#and all the other fans there were so chill like damn we really built such a health community here🥹

[wasteland-lover]

post concert pics

[roeroe-world]

her.

starring: ryan destiny as juno, method man as himself

set in the memorable summer of ‘95 in Atlanta.

warning: detailed smut warning , use of profanity and drugs, very long scene ahead

Sweat beads drips amongst his caramel coated skin as he tosses a close by dry towel on top of his slightly nappy braids. Exhaustion yet adrenaline pouring over his 6 foot 3 frame, returning backstage. Mef had just finished a show and more than ready to return to his hotel room, hearing the bed calling—screaming his name. Although the crowd still going wild knocked the calling out of the park by a long shot.

“Yo! We killed that shit!” His friend and fellow artist, Redman, shouts while breathing intensely before the two would dap one another up.

Not only did Mef perform but a few artists performed beside him as well. Wu-Tang Clan members joined to perform a couple tracks together. Redman wasn’t exactly scheduled to perform though Mef decided to bring him out anyway. As a result, the fans loved it.

Mef was sweating bullets, breathing as heavy as ever, and physically tired. He desired to give his fans a great show— no fuck ‘great’ — he wanted his set to be amazing. Mef crowd surfed, brought out his group members and Redman whom was making a ton of noise on the streets, gave the audience his 110 percent of energy… now he needed to chill.

“Tryna hit up a club?” Redman’s inquiry earns a chuckle from the rapper as he takes a hit of the blunt he’s passed. “Nigga, I ain’t tryna hit nothin’.” Seriousness within his raspy, deep tone while observing his crowded surroundings with a head shake. Backstage was heavily crowded tonight.

“Shit…” The fellow rapper kisses his teeth, the two walking alongside each other. “I don’t know ‘bout you but I’m definitely tryna hit something before I leave tomorrow morning. I saw some fly ass bitches in the crowd.” He caught himself staring at a plethora of women passing by. Atlanta was filled with beautiful women. Not only were they gorgeous but their bodies were out of this world.

Maybe it was the Southern meals. However, whatever, they were stacked. Ranging from big to small, nonetheless, the women were captivating.

The women flocked at Mef’s every direction. It was no secret that he’s a chick magnet. Women loved him and he loved them too. Though he’s surrounded by a fish of captivating beauties with perfect bodies. The only chick on his mind is his current on and off girlfriend, Tamika. No matter how many women threw themselves at him, she’s all he ever thinks about often.

His love life was no-one’s business so therefore he hardly ever spoke about her publicly. She isn’t involved in his lifestyle, doesn’t want a damn thing to do with it. Currently, they’re having issues and not exactly on speaking terms at the moment. But as far as he’s concerned that’s still his.

Self-medicating himself with drugs and alcohol kept him afloat as he did his shows, although it didn’t help much. He didn’t really want to express his girl problems to his homies because their issues were absolutely none of their business. But he knows bottling his emotions weren’t healthy.

Between the pressure of maintaining his booming rap career and remaining in a committed relationship, it was growing a bit overwhelming. He has a lot of pent up frustration built that he possesses no clue of what to do with it so until then… he would continue to self-medicate.

After turning down yet another girl, an unopened bottle of Cristal found its way into his masculine large right hand— the moment it’s open he engulfs the alcoholic beverage as he welcomed himself near a table which was seated backstage.

“Damn, you good?” A sultry feminine southern accent meets his eardrums though he continues to drink not ready to meet eyes with the random voice just yet. “The only time a person drinks like that is when they going through somethin’.”

Suddenly, he drops the bottle from his lips and averts his low gaze into the woman’s direction before being immediately taken off guard by her beauty; Her skin coated a beautiful clear shade of brown. Dark irises shaped like an almond, similar to a siren. Her round face fit her perfectly as well as the short pixie cut she’s sporting.

The woman’s lips began moving though he wasn’t exactly paying attention to what was exiting them. He just knew the pair appeared very plump and juicy, adorned by red lipstick with a little gloss coat. It wasn’t long before he snaps out of his daze, catching, “The name’s Juno. I noticed you over here by yourself and decided to bless you with my company.” Redman had left awhile ago to tend to his needs for the night.

She wasn’t nervous, afraid, nor inappropriate. Her almond shaped eyes peered into his as she spoke clear enough for him to hear.

Confidence. He loved that shit.

A friendly grin forms across his lips, sneaking a quick glance of her outfit. Which happened to be a lace choker surrounding her neck, a crop top showcasing her belly button ring, a pair of short denim shorts as well as a pair of Air Max ‘95’s. She had a few tattoos too.

“I’m straight. ‘Preciate you for your concern.” Not to be cocky but he didn’t really feel the need to introduce himself if she came out to his show.

“If you don’t mind me asking… how you get back here?”

Chuckling to herself, “Backstage pass.” She motions to the pass in her hand and he nods, lifting the bottle near his lips. This time his eyes closely but slowly eyeing her frame. He definitely liked what he saw. “I don’t mean to talk your ear off but I really enjoyed your show tonight. You did your thing especially with your album.”

“Preciate it, shorty. What’s your favorite joint on the album?” More than likely, he was expecting it be the All I Need Remix with Mary J. Blige. The track was a huge success.

“Tical. That’s my shit.” Genuine smiles etched across both of their lips, finding themselves staring at each other.

“You smoke?” His inquiry earns a playful scoff, giving him a look, “Nigga, I’m the blazing queen. I bet my rolling skills better than yours.”

“Yo, what? Hell nah…” Mef laughs aloud, “You know what? We just might have to see ‘cause that ain’t possible. What you finna get into?”

————

A limousine ride and several drinks later, the two arrived to the Four Seasons. Mef would be residing there for the night. Underneath his long eyelashes, his squinted dark irises analyzes the rolled blunt closely. As much as he wanted to find a flaw… he couldn’t. Damn. He thought to himself, slightly impressed.

“Shit, you cool with me.” He places the perfectly rolled blunt between his lips, throwing his hands up in defense. “Told you.” The woman sticks out her tongue teasingly, grabbing her lighter out of her purse and sparking up the blunt for him.

Juno watches as the smoke blows smoothly between his lips, his gaze low and slightly dead. The side of his canvas showcasing red lipstick stains due to her kissing him on the cheek multiple times during the limo ride. She couldn’t help but to run her hair over his nappy cornrows, a slight grin etched upon her mouth as the smell of marijuana engulfed the spacious hotel room.

Her exposed left leg rests on top of his thigh while he caresses her soft skin gently. The pair sat on the edge of the bed, enjoying the peacefulness of the atmosphere and one another’s company.

“You should let me rebraid your hair.”

“Unh, unh, I’m tender headed, shorty.” He passes the blunt to the young woman, eyeing her once more. “You can massage my head though.” Neither of the two broke eye contact as she took a hit, exhaling slowly, blowing out o’s.

“Which head?” She quizzes boldly and Mef immediately catches on to her sexual innuendo.

“Which ever you feel comfortable with.” Mef’s low intense gaze immediately makes her nervous so she glances away, very intoxicated though shocked herself that she’s in Method Man’s hotel room with Method Man.

Juno loved the fact that he didn’t push himself on her or made any sexual advances. She’d heard a lot of rumors about rappers but Mef doesn’t appear to be that way. He was chill, nonchalant, hilarious and quite charismatic. And to mention… very fine. She always believed he was handsome from the moment she laid eyes on him upon seeing a photograph of him in the Source Magazine.

His roughneck look fit him perfectly. Now that she’s up close and personal, she could definitely see why the women went crazy. He was a pretty boy with a raspy, deep New York accent that could make you melt.

The moment Juno breaks their eye contact to avert her gaze downward, he finds himself looking away as well. Silence falling between the pair. Tamika’s face racing through his brain yet again. It was an ongoing thing the entire night though he’s in the company of a striking beauty.

“You hungry?” Her inquiry began to remind him, he’s starving. Not only that but he had the munchies. Of course, he’s hungry. He hadn’t ate much after the show and that was hours ago. Now it’s peeking on two in the morning. “Yeah, room service doesn’t sound too bad, huh?”

“Yeah, no…” She stops him from reaching for the phone with a laugh. “I know a place way better.” His eyeballs fell upon her plump backside as she crawls across the bed, sitting on her knees while the satisfying sound of her mid-length French tip acrylics meets the dialing pad. Her vanilla scent danced in and out of his nostrils the entire night, though, he couldn’t lie; a woman with good hygiene turns him on.

Mef finds himself traveling from the edge of the bed to plop his head on a nearby pillow, continuing to smoke the blunt Juno rolled moments before. Feeling a dip on the bed as she places their order, she turns to see him lying on his back comfortably. More importantly, in the bed wearing shoes.

Raising a brow at the sight, the call ended and the young woman sends a light smack to his bottom leg. “Boy, if you don’t take them damn shoes off.” Laying closely beside his being, snatching the blunt from between his lips and planting between hers instead.

He kisses his teeth playfully, “This my fuckin’ bed but since you told me to take my shoes off, I will.” The rapper sits up to do as told. “Happy?”

“You had a show tonight too so don’t take this wrong… you should freshen up— I’m not saying that you stink ‘cause you don’t. I’m just saying.” She shrugs, blowing the smoke through her nostrils.

The slight annoyance of her demands quickly subsided due to her looks.

“Coming in my hotel room and telling me what to do… you lucky you fine.” He speaks truthfully with a head shake, heading for the bathroom for a much needed shower.

————

“Taste this.” She scoops a good amount of sweet potato pie onto the plastic spoon, bringing it to Mef’s lips. He hums as the sweetness enters his taste buds. “Good ain’t it?” A wide grin falls upon her captivating face as he sends her a nod as a response.

Awhile after Mef’s shower, their food arrived. It was a nearby Soul Food restaurant. The food was delicious and he couldn’t deny it. The next time he would come to the A, he would definitely be eating there again.

“I got a question.”

Putting their plastic containers to the side, she retorts, “Ask away.”

“You ain’t got a man?” A chuckle passes her lips at the question. “As good as you look I know some nigga wanna lock you down or got you locked down.”

His statement made her mentally scoff. “If a nigga had me locked down, I wouldn’t be in this hotel room with you.” Her love life isn’t a topic she’s too enthralled in discussing. She didn’t completely answer the question because she doesn’t feel obligated to.

“Word.” He nods.

“You got a girl?” Almost in an instant, he stops nodding but tries to play it off. Juno is really good at reading body language so she knew instantly. “You love her?” Mef doesn’t bother to meet eye contact, telling the young woman everything she needs to know.

Silence falls amongst the pair until the rapper breaks it, “…just some issues going on right now.” He doesn’t want to talk about it. Juno could hear it in his tone.

“We don’t gotta talk about it. I ain’t tryna pressure you.”

There was sudden mood shift. Both of them could feel it. Juno instantly regretted asking the question because it seemed as if he was still in his feelings over the woman.

“If that’s a dealbreaker for you then… you can leave if you want. I’ll be aight. I enjoyed your company.” With a sigh, he stands to his feet and prepares to walk off to another direction of the hotel room.

Silently, the young woman mentally contemplated whether to leave or not. He had a whole woman at home which whom he’s in love with. Sure, they were having their problems, but what relationship didn’t? She just knew that if she was in the other woman’s shoes, she would be crushed to find out her man is in a hotel room with an another woman being fed.

Though, if she would leave then Mef would still be upset, drinking away his sorrows like how she saw him prior. Deep inside, something made her want to help him feel better. She wasn’t sure how it felt to date him and doesn’t want to know. She couldn’t make him forget about her.

But just for the night, she wanted to make him feel something. She wanted to make him feel good.

She doesn’t owe his girlfriend or whatever she is to him any absolute loyalty. Juno had one of her man crushes in the same room as her so she’s going to take her chance.

Standing to her feet, Juno struts behind his chair, her hips swaying side to side seductively. Mef feels a presence behind him but stays put, thinking nothing of it. Her dainty hands meets the top of both of his shoulders, caressing the pair softly before sliding them along his clothed chest and between his legs.

His attire consisted of a plain baggy white beater and a pair of basketball shorts. Juno didn’t understand why he didn’t settle with the hotel bathrobe because it would’ve been easier access.

Removing her touch, her smooth glowing legs leads her in front of his frame. Mef’s legs were stretched wide, his arms resting on the arms of the chair while his low seductive gaze peered upward in her direction before traveling downward with her sudden movements. Juno was on her knees, pulling his shorts to his ankles to reveal what she’d been aching to lay eyes on for so long.

Mef remained silent, observing her actions closely. It was crystal clear what she wanted and he was going to give it to her.

It was exactly what she imagined. Long, thick, veiny, very well-endowed. He was ecstatic to see her just as much as she was. Without a hesitation, Juno devours him into her mouth and the minute she does, his head tosses backward with a low groan.

His groans would transition into small moans and the moans eventually grew louder. Juno was ravishing him like he was her last meal. Sucking, licking, finding herself kissing it as if it was a trophy. Her right hand wrapped around his phallus, stroking him to perfection. The other down her shorts, playing with herself.

The strapless crop top slid below her perky breasts, revealing the pair due to her hard work. Mef averts his attention onto the beauty giving him the best head he’s ever received. Though, he couldn’t help to notice a name tatted on her left breast that read ‘Dante’ in cursive. He ignores the observation and focuses on her Oscar-winning mouth instead. His hand found itself onto her head, not giving a single fuck about her hair or the fact that she has another man’s name tatted on her.

Her head bobbed up and down, creating beautiful music to their ears. Juno’s mouth reminded him of a vacuum, a beautiful and very skilled vacuum as she sucked like no tomorrow. This wasn’t her first time. She was much too skilled and he had no absolute complaints. He was in bliss. So deep in bliss that he grew close, an orgasm he isn’t ready for just yet. Too quick.

He found himself slightly trying to push her head back, lifting his waist off the chair a bit. She notices before saying, “Don’t run, papa.” Upon quickly going back to work, his toes began curling at the intense pleasure. A plethora of curse words exiting his mouth, “Fuck…”

Moments later after attempting to hold back, he finally let go while she sucked him dry, swallowing every drop. His body shook slightly, a low groan passing his throat. Pools of brown peering into one another’s as Juno took her time to undress, peeling off every piece of clothing one by one teasingly. Initially she was planning to leave after giving him the best head of his life but he was still up at attention, intensely staring in her direction hungrily. Apparently, there was still a job needed to be completed. Who was she to back out of a challenge?

Mef was growing impatient.

No longer seated in the chair, he towers the young woman before lifting her small frame into his arms by her legs while forcing himself inside. His lips crashing into hers. “Oh, fuck…” Her jaw drops at the sudden sensation of him inside her love. Not giving her much time to adjust. Her back was pressed against the wall as he sent the woman powerhouse strokes, arms pinned above her head. His hips circling round and round much to her pleasure.

Her constant wetness and tightness around his phallus kept his top row of pearly whites embedded into his bottom lip. Juno’s eyebrows furrowing together from the pleasure and the pain. The more he had his way with her, the louder she would become. The pair found themselves all over the room, making their mark as well as pushing a few things out of their path, items in which broke. They couldn’t care less about the complaints.

Bent over on the edge of the bed, Juno glances backward at the rapper behind her frame underneath her low gaze. Loud moans exiting her throat. “F-Fuck me like that..” Mef’s head was thrown back, gripping her waist while he gave her his all. He was fucking her so good that she was speechless and she’s usually vocal during sex.

“Mef, oh Mef, oh papa…” Her juices coating his phallus was a hell of a sight. He loved the fact that she was making such a mess because of him. He had her screaming, scratching his back, cursing him out, squirting everywhere, fucking up the sheets, legs wide open as if it wasn’t almost four o’clock. Mef had a flight in three hours yet that hadn’t seem to cross his mind.

Nothing seemed to cross his mind when he had a beautiful woman screaming his name and squeezing around him.

“What, baby?” He quizzes, dragging his tongue across his lips for the millionth time. “Fuck…” Mef couldn’t get over how incredibly wet she was. The sounds were driving him insane. “This pussy so fuckin’ wet for me, mama.” Sending a smack to her backside, she began to throw it back.

His mouth falls agape slightly as he watches her, “Juno, shit.” He couldn’t let her get the best of him again so he flips her over onto her back, pressing her wide legs upon her shoulders, pounding into the woman mercilessly. At this point, she was screaming to the top of her lungs. “Just like that, papa!” Her dainty manicured hands resting on the bottom of her thighs, no matter the pain, she loved it. Not once did she tap out nor push him back. She loved that rough shit.

Juno liked to be fucked like a slut and she was sure that Mef had a lot of pent up anger which she desired for him to take out on her.

Dark brown irises peering down in her direction and suddenly he decided to deepen his strokes before leaning in closer to her face. Both of them admiring one another’s canvas. Her top row of pearly whites embedded into her bottom lip, their eyes meeting instantly. They made a lot of eye contact during their activities but not like this… not in this position.

“You so fuckin’ beautiful, baby.” He compliments the young woman below his being before bringing their lips into a passionate union. “You so perfect.” His dick continuously jabbing at her spot and it wasn’t as rough anymore, it was long and passionate strokes.

Juno wanted to fuck. Not make love nor fall in love.

The dick already had her willing to die for it. The consistent compliments, the dirty talk, the choking, his skillful strokes. Mef knew exactly what he was doing in bed. They were going at it for sometime now and his energy amazed her.

The way he stared at her as if he wanted to do any and everything for her as if he actually loved her. But she knows he doesn’t. He’d only met her a few hours prior. She could never be the woman he was drowning himself in sorrows about. She could never be her. This feeling of his love is temporary. She knew she would never see him again after tonight.

The thought hurt.

Mef’s love brought her to tears, caressing his shoulders and beautiful face to pretend as if she was his girl. As if he was hers. He belonged to someone else. But for right now, Mef belonged to her and she was going to fuck him like no tomorrow.

Regaining her strength, Juno flips the two over to gain control. Bouncing on top of the rapper energetically earning a plethora of groans as he sends several smacks to her backside. Suddenly, his firm right hand grips her neck, thumb sliding between her lips and she sucks on it. “Tell me you love this dick.” He demands, scanning her bare frame and the sight of their bodies colliding together for the millionth time.

“I love this dick.” She does as demanded and though it was a demand, it was the absolute truth. His dick fit her perfectly. “Papa… are you gonna cum for me?” Sucking his thumb seductively, her hips moved in a circular motion, desiring to feel him breed her again. No, she isn’t having his baby. She didn’t want to have his baby. There was no absolute use of protection but she does happen to be on the pill.

Without another word, he nods, completely speechless. She was really putting it on him from her mouth to her everything. For her final move, she leans forward to plant a few sensual kisses along his neck before whispering, “Come inside your pussy,” into his ear. It drove him wild when she called her pussy his. Over the years, she learned that men loved that.

Mef began to fuck her back from underneath the woman, palming her plump backside as his orgasm approaches. His mouth slightly agape in amazement, watching her breasts bounce in his face.

The moment the tip of his dick started to jab at her spot, her orgasm was quickly approaching as well. “Fuck, papa, I’m gonna cum!” His thrusts grew rougher and moreover, the pair found themselves releasing in unison. Their eyes meeting while riding their high, mouths wide open.

For some reason, Mef made sure she felt every drop of his semen. She guessed that it was because he knows it intensifies her orgasms.

“Damn.” Breathing heavily, Mef eyes the woman hopping off of his frame as slow as she could due to her body being sore and slightly limping to the bathroom. A light proud smirk creeps amongst his lips, eyelids shutting to get some sleep.

Light footsteps meets his eardrums yet again so his low tired gaze falls upon a naked Juno whom is getting dressed to his dismay. He wasn’t ready for her to go.

“Leaving me already?”

A giggle passing her throat, she slides on her underwear then came her denim shorts. “You and I both know what this was, Mef.” Her statement results in the rapper’s head to tilt backward in offense, immediately getting out of bed to throw on a pair of the basketball shorts that was laying sloppily on the floor to make his way towards the woman.

“Yeah…” He began. “It was two people who got together and enjoyed each other’s company.”

“Don’t you got a flight to catch in like what two hours?” She found his reaction to her getting ready to leave quite comical. They didn’t really know one another from a can of paint.

“So. That don’t mean you gotta leave yet, shorty.”

Sighing heavily, a captivating smile gracing her lips, “It doesn’t. But after you leave… you have someone to go home to. Never take that for granted.” Sliding her crop top through her head and adjusting it onto her chest. “Not many people have that.” Soon came her socks and shoes.

Juno was unlike any other woman he’d been with sexually. Maybe he was blinded by lust or her looks or the fact that she’s the epitome of cool. He wanted to keep in contact with her, at least. He definitely wanted to link up again.

“Can I at least get your number?”

“Go home to your girlfriend, nigga.” She replies humorously, grabbing her purse and heading for the door. “I enjoyed you, Method Man.” Planting emphasis on his stage name, she pauses through the open door before waltzing in front of his tall frame. Her tattooed arms wrapping around his neck and he leans downward mindlessly, connecting their lips passionately.

One last taste.

Their tongues fight for dominance. Enjoying the taste of one another. Eventually, Mef wins. His hands falling just above her covered backside. Nibbling softly on her bottom lip as she pulls away, sliding her hand down his chest. His intense low gaze peering down at the young woman whom was admiring his half-naked silhouette.

His girl would be dumb to let him slip out of her hands.

Finally, she walks away and he watches her until she’s no longer in his peripheral. The moment she steps outside of the hotel room, her back presses against the wall before tossing her head backward in disbelief.

“Did I just do that?” She mouths to herself.

Moments after squealing softly to herself, Juno saunters for the elevator, feeling like a whole other woman.

[boopshoops]

🥣

🥰

🏘️

For Jojo, Shishi, and Ezzie (The Twst OCs ;w;) for the OC Ask meme)

Similarly to the last post!! This is color coded: me/narrator as default, blue as Jocia, and green as Ezra

🥣what's your favorite food?

"So this is some sort of interview? Alright then," Jocia gruffly responded, slouching over in her seat upon realizing the question was actually rather simple. She grinned, "Bulgogi's a fav. It's something my sister showed me when we were kids. Apparently she was trying to learn more about our family history or somethin', did a damn lot of research too."

"It's not something I looked much into myself, but I'm a complete sucker for anything barbecued or grilled. I think... Oh yeah, we tried it out on a camping trip. I stole some of hers off her plate," Jocia chuckled, scratching at the back of her head as she reminisced, "I gave her hell during that trip. Wouldn't be surprised if that's why we never did something like that again. Made it up to her later, though."

-

"Ooh! How fun!" The professor exclaimed with a sharp-toothed grin, "Let's see, should I go into detail? I don't see why not. You're supposedly looking into learning more about me after all, little sprout," He cheerfully pondered aloud, politely folding his hands in his lap.

"My favorite dish is Pasta Alla Gricia. It's absolutely divine. With most of the foods I like, they've unfortunately been changing and shifting in ways I'm simply not a fan of with the passage of time. BUT! With this? It's only gotten better since the first time I tried it one hundred years ago! I'll gladly buy you some sometime, little sapling. Oh! Perhaps I can get some for the whole class... Like a day of celebration after one of our competitions! It's important for student's to destress, after all!~" Ezra hummed to himself with a firm nod.

🥰do you think you're attractive?

"Uh..." The woman droned on, crossing her arms over her chest. She offered a casual nod after perusing her own thoughts, "Like, physically? Sure, yeah," She bluntly answered.

"It's not really something I've thought too much of before. I guess looking in the mirror and seeing how far I've come gives me something to be proud of. Especially since I'm... not the best at styling. Everyone else in the family got all that."

"But, hell, I've worked hard on myself. Even if working out and such is more of a chill hobby of mine, I'm still confident in how I'm built. Not to mention I can see little parts of the people around me in myself too, yeah? Like- an old friend of mine regularly helps me dye my hair, and I got my piercings at the same time as my brother. If I didn't like those parts of myself, it feels kinda like a dig on them too. No matter whatcha think anyway, there are gonna be people out there who think you're pretty sick."

"...Eh, I'm not good at getting all sappy."

-

Ezra blinked, his drawing his lips into a line. His brows furrowed, "This is a difficult question to be modest about, isn't it?" He awkwardly chuckled, bringing a hand up to massage his temple.

"Oh, I don't know. I have a lot of things I have to work on, truly. It's quite an ordeal. Not that I'm not proud of my appearance! After all, a lot of it was greatly inspired by my late father."

"...Ah! I forgot to mention- I'm a changeling fae, of course. I'm not the biggest fan of shapeshifting, however, so I try my best to correlate my appearance to my adoptive human family. In that way, I suppose topics such as 'attractiveness' are a bit more complicated to someone like me, dear," He finished, dodging and weaving around the actual question through his rambles.

🏘️where's your happy place?

Jocia brightened up a bit at this, smirking as the answer came easily, "With my siblings," she replied briefly.

"They're fun as hell to be around. We got each other's backs. They're a bunch of little shits sometimes, but we know each other better than anyone else," She paused, "At least... most of us. More of a reason for me to get home, as if I didn't need any more of one already."

-

"My classroom, of course! Oh, it's so fun!" The teacher excitedly replied, eccentrically taking the time to pop up out of his seat and lean over the table, "It's where I spend most of my time! Working with students in bloom, watching their talents grow, listening to my favorite stars sing broadway, tending to my adorable potted plants..." He babbled on endlessly, happily explaining to no end.

"...I haven't been here for very long, that is true, but it has very quickly become my favorite place to be. So much so I often get caught up in things and forget to attend meetings. I suppose me and the other fae individuals here have that in common... I'm working on that, however! Got to make sure my memory is in top condition!"

"Is that it? 'Kay. Be seeing ya."

-

"This was very pleasant! Thank you kindly for inviting me."

Ask Game!

Yuu Shi's responses are here

[anotherwvba]

Learning on the Job pt. 4

As the day wore on, fighters and hopefuls came in and out of the WVBA Gym. It was a veritable symphony of thuds, grunts, cheers, and gripes. In the center ring, Gemma was now sparring alternately with Skye and Mika under the watchful eyes of Coach Maxwell and Dudley Bruce. Glass Joe was on the treadmill trying to warn people away from a napping trainee, while Disco Kid and Cutie Hondo were showing new signee Jon Adamski around the gym and introducing him to people with varying degrees of success.

Meanwhile, in a corner of the gym, Razor Sharp was on the speed bag. She was a force of nature. She danced around the bag, keeping its rhythm flowing for strikes from all angles. She had the flair and showmanship of a star. From all around the gym, eyes fell on her and the bag. She knew and she loved it.

As Razor drew stares and gazes with her incredible bag work, Luna Doll approached a neighboring speed bag, ready to start her own workout. Luna was as precise and quick on the speed bag as she is with a controller, something viewers of her streams knew all too well. But as focused as she was, Luna found herself stealing glances of Razor’s performance on the bag next to her.

Taking a quick break, Razor took a moment to hydrate and grabbed her water bottle. Most of those watching her went back to their own training at that point, but Luna caught a glimpse of the bottle, the word RAZOR boldly emblazoned across it.

“Yo,” Luna stopped her bag as she spoke, “you’re Razor Sharp, ain’t ya’?” Her tone was friendly and warm, as usual, but had a touch of challenge to it, like she was putting her quarter down on the arcade machine to call ‘next’.

Razor turned, sizing Luna up with a smile, “That’s me, girl! Philly’s finest in the flesh.” Her brash and braggadocious nature came through, but certainly good-natured. “And you’re Luna Doll, the stream queen herself. Loved your ‘Shadow Hearts’ playthrough. Pretty cool stuff.”

“Thanks! I can’t believe you watch,” Luna’s face lit up at the recognition. “You know, I gotta tell you, debuting against each other? It’s like a dream. I’ve seen you in action before and you’re amazing! It’s like you were born for this… which kinda makes sense. B-T-W, big fan of your dad.”

A mischievous quality came through Razor’s grin, “Appreciate it. Our fight’s gonna be lit, something really special. For me, anyway. Kinda like a good public workout.”

“Excuse me?” That comment hit Luna like a game over screen and her friendly expression darkened. “What do you mean by ‘public workout’?”

Razor’s confidence never wavered, her smile securely in place. “Means you’ve never had a fight, not a real one. I step into the ring, I’m not like your influencer friends. They playing tag. I’m starching chicks. You ain’t ready for what I’m bringing.”

Pride and determination overcame Luna. Her eyes flared, but she held her temper in check. “Just ‘cause I fought influencers before I came here doesn’t mean I don’t take this seriously. Those fights were real. We weren’t playing games. We were trying to put each other on the canvas. So, you best not sleep on me, girl!”

“Hey, chill,” Razor shrugged and put her hands up. “Ain’t saying you didn’t scrap. I’ve seen what you’ve done. It’s cool and all and it took a lotta guts. But this? Me? This is the big leagues, baby, and, like you said, I was born for this. You ain’t built for a beatdown, giving or receiving.”

Luna heard the challenge in Razor’s voice and smiled. It wasn’t out of amusement, though. It was ‘game on’. She stepped a little closer toward Razor, “We’ll see, Razor. But I’mma tell you right now, you treat me like anything other than another pro and I’m gonna flip the script on you, Baby Sands.”

Closing the distance between them to mere inches, Razor’s smile broadened, her voice dropped. She was loving this. “Let’s keep this 100, aight? You best be ready to catch a beating, girl. I’mma send a message to the whole damn Circuit and that message is gonna be you, out like a light, flat on your back.”

“Oh, girlfriend,” Luna met Razor’s gaze with her own, her smile bright, too. Unfazed and unflinching. “Stay cocky. Keep underestimating me. ‘Cause I can’t wait to prove you wrong. Just one thing… don’t blink, baby. You do and you’ll wake up on your ass wondering what happened.”

And there it was. Challenge laid out and accepted. Bring your best or pay the price when the bell rings. Luna turned back to her bag, finding her rhythm driven by a newfound purchase. Razor moved on to the heavy bags to continue her own training, but just couldn’t help herself as she called back loudly over her shoulder, the whole gym hearing her.

“Hey, Hitmaker! By the time I’m done whooping your ass, you gonna wish you stuck to boxing with TikTokers and Twitch streamers. It’s a lot safer than stepping to me, baby!”

Luna’s response was a barely there smile and words only loud enough for herself to hear, drowned out by the rhythmic sounds of her speed bag. “Game on, Baby Sands… game on!”

Star Mika is an OC belonging to @cyrah-is-cool101 and is used with permission. Jon Adamski is an OC belonging to @punchout-ispunched and is used with permission.

[vivispec]

so. absolution. i watched it last night and boy howdy am i a fan. i’ll give my non-spoiler thoughts above the read more, and then some more spoilery thoughts under the cut, keeping in mind i’m pretty easy to please. like golden retriever levels of easy-going.

first of all, can i just say what a wonderful surprise? when I first heard netflix was in charge of this, I was not exactly hopeful. the team did great, though. the whole thing was very respectful to the world bioware built, while still being unique and interesting. they used the lore to build a great story, and didn’t seem smothered by it. 

honestly my high point? the action scenes. they were incredibly well-animated, and had an amazing flow. easy to follow, but still packed with movement and stunning. i usually don’t give two fucks about fighting scenes but these were mesmerizing. the dialogue was quirky, but i didn’t find it annoying. honestly, felt pretty da to me, like banter. characters were well-written (though it felt a bit rushed. like everybody else I wish there had been more time to set them up, but they did a lot with the 6 eps they were given) and there were lots of twists and turns, but they weren’t surprises for the sake of surprises. i feel like everything was foreshadowed pretty well, kinda in the vein of solas’ whole deal: hard to see it until you know, but once you do its so fucking obvious. still, might bother some with how much whiplash you get.

as said by many before, the pace is a little wonky in the first episode, but the rest of the series really smooths it out. they had to estabilish already built relationships and characters in a way that made you care for them from the start, and they did it pretty well, if awkwardly. but i can’t see it working any other way. 

my stepdad, who only ever played origins all the way back when it came out, seemed to enjoy it with very little context. most of the episodes seem to be enjoyable for people who don’t know a thing about dragon age, but the final reveal of the series will not be very impactful if you haven’t played/watched da2. it’s such a small portion of the series, however, and i would still recommend it for anybody who wants to watch it before playing da:d, but who doesn’t want to play da2.

okay here’s my real actual spoilery thoughts yippeee

i am so sorry fairbanks you and your wife deserved so much more

can i just say how chilling the conversation between rez and hira is after we know the truth? like got damn. that was....something holy shit.

i actually really like rezaren as antagonist. i was kinda rolling my eyes at his whole deal when they set him up like he was going to be sympathetic but...then he just. turned, when miriam didn’t do what he wanted. and it was chilling. he is an evil, evil antagonist in a series that loves moral middle ground and i love it. 

and that one line he says, oh my god. something like ‘how many lives taken to control one beast’. and you can’t tell if he’s talking about miriam or the dragon. chilling. maybe one of my favorite moments for that reason alone.

and i loved that neb turned away from rez like that! and towards miriam! he knew!

which btw....spirit neb was so pretty. god i wish he wasn’t a corpse.

speaking of middle ground antagonists, i won’t claim i saw her betrayal coming from the getgo but i was getting strange vibes from hira from the start. i think they handled her really well, all things considered? you can tell she legitimately cares for miriam, but that her desire for revenge is just. too strong. not unlike a couple other mages i know and love.

like, does being a mage just make you the most passionate motherfucker on thedas by default or? 

i was going to ask if it was the oppression but she’s still a tevinter noble so. not quite the same as somebody like, say, anders. who really went through it huh.

on that note, because everybody has opinions about miriam wanting to stay with hira....i really do think its in character. they seem to legitimately love each other, and miriam hasn’t known love like that before. she’s desperate, and so very hurt. she just lost her brother a second time. i think it’s very in character

that doesn’t mean i want to see them together again. hira trying to sell her back into slavery is something you don’t get over. even if sapphira gets some kind of ‘redemption’ (next season? in da:d?) and they’re friends again...i think that trust should be gone. but that’s just my two cents.

i maybe possibly am on the qwydion/miriam train though so i am possibly maybe biased. legitimately don’t know yet if i ship them romantically or platonically though, either way i just. want them to be together and supporting each other. i love them i love their hugs. 

i love love love seeing their interpretation of the demons and shades. memory was super cool, too. and the fact that you could tell what spells the mages were using? they could’ve opted for just ‘ah yes fireballs and lightning’ but they chose to use abilities that are pretty specific, like crushing prison. 

going back to what i said before, where you can’t tell if rez is talking about miriam or the dragon, i really like them releasing the dragon like that at the end. you can tell just how painfully euphoric it is for her, to see something that had been shackled and chained and used as a weapon be recognized as simply a living thing that wants to be free. to be treated with kindness, and understanding, and love when all to often it is instead feared and hated. i wanted to cry, such a beautiful scene.

and the fact that its qwydion doing the healing, and releasing. the fact that she was the one who freed it in the first place? foreshadowing maybe? not my lil wlw heart jumping on this ship and setting sail. romantically platonically i just.....want them to be together holy shit

and finally, that fucking ending. holy SHIT. i was watching it with my stepdad (who only ever played origins, back when it came out) and i could not stop yelling. i think i scared him. when i heard her voice i lost my shit. like it makes sense: lyrium has a connection to the fade, red lyrium has some restorative abilities, and if i remember correctly there have been reports of regular lyrium holding onto memories, so...i could see it being that the red lyrium trapped her spirit before it could make it into the fade and restored her over the years, or a number of alternatives. but damn i did not think that i’d see her ass. poor hawke and varric. can the tyrants they kill just. stay dead, pls.

bioware seems to be acknowledging da2 a lot more and can i just say i am living for it. 

i do think it was very evil of the writing team to make me think that we were going to see varric when hira said she had a contact in the hanged man and i do not forgive them.

and lackland? holy shit. i didn’t say anything about them here because what more can i say. their dynamic is so good, i love how roland teases and flirts but is seemingly just as invested as lacklon is. despite how little time they get the team did such a great job of building up their chemistry with the training and fighting scenes, which isn’t easy when there’s so. much. action going on. really, truly, they used what little time they were given so efficiently. they heard that we wanted a dwarf romance and boy did they deliver.

[testudoaubrei-blog]

Content note for discussions of eternal damnation, and all sorts of other shit that will trigger a lot of folks with religious trauma.

Before I get started I might as well explain where I’m coming from - unlike a lot of She-Ra fans, and a lot of queer people, I don’t have much religious trauma, or any, maybe (okay there were a number of years I was convinced I was going to hell, but that happens to everyone, right?). I was raised a liberal Christian by liberal Christian parents in the Episcopal Church, where most of my memories are overwhelmingly positive. Fuck, growing up in the 90’s, Chuch was probably the only place outside my home I didn’t have homophobia spewed at me. Because it was the 90’s and it was a fucking hellscape of bigotry where 5 year olds knew enough to taunt each other with homophobic slurs and the adults didn’t know enough to realize how fucked up that was. Anyway. This is my experience, but it is an atypical one, and I know it. Quite frankly I know that my experience of Christianity has very little at all to do with what most people experienced, or what people generally mean when they talk about Christianity as a cultural force in America today. So if you were raised Christian and you don’t recognize your theology here, congrats, neither do I, but these ideas and cultural forces are huge and powerful and dominant. And it’s this dominant Christian narrative that I’m referring to in this post. As well as, you know, a children’s cartoon about lesbian rainbow princesses. So here it goes. This is going to get batshit.

"All events whatsoever are governed by the secret counsel of God." - John Calvin

“We’re all just a bunch of wooly guys” - Noelle Stevenson

This is a post triggered by a single scene, and a single line. It’s one of the most fucked-up scenes in She-Ra, toward the end of Save the Cat. Catra, turned into a puppet by Prime, struggles with her chip, desperately trying to gain control of herself, so lost and scared and vulnerable that she flings aside her own death wish and her pride and tearfully begs Adora to rescue her. Adora reaches out , about to grab her, and then Prime takes control back, pronounces ‘disappointing’ and activates the kill switch that pitches Catra off the platform and to her death (and seriously, she dies here, guys - also Adora breaks both her legs in the fall). But before he does, he dismisses Catra with one of his most chilling lines. “Some creatures are meant only for destruction.”

And that’s when everyone watching probably had their heart broken a little bit, but some of the viewers raised in or around Christianity watching the same scene probably whispered ‘holy shit’ to themselves. Because Prime’s line - which works as a chilling and callous dismissal of Catra - is also an allusion to a passage from the Bible. In fact, it’s from one of the most fucked up passages in a book with more than its share of fucked up passages. It’s from Romans 9:22, and I’m going to quote several previous verses to give the context of the passage (if not the entire Epistle, which is more about who needs to abide by Jewish dietary restrictions but was used to construct a systematic theology in the centuries afterwards because people decided it was Eternal Truth).

19 Thou wilt say then unto me, Why doth he yet find fault? For who hath resisted his will?

20 Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus?

21 Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour?

22 What if God, willing to shew his wrath, and to make his power known, endured with much longsuffering the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction:

The context of the allusion supports the context in the show. Prime is dismissing Catra - serial betrayer, liar, failed conqueror, former bloody-handed warlord - as worthless, as having always been worthless and fit only to be destroyed. He is speaking from a divine and authoritative perspective (because he really does think he’s God, more of this in my TL/DR Horde Prime thing). Prime is echoing not only his own haughty dismissal of Catra, and Shadow Weaver’s view of her, but also perhaps the viewer’s harshest assessment of her, and her own worst fears about herself. Catra was bad from the start, doomed to destroy and to be destroyed. A malformed pot, cracked in firing, destined to be shattered against a wall and have her shards classified by some future archaeologist 2,000 years later. And all that’s bad enough.

But the full historical and theological context of this passage shows the real depth of Noelle Stevenson’s passion and thought and care when writing this show. Noelle was raised in Evangelical or Fundamentalist Christianity. To my knowledge, he has never specified what sect or denomination, but in interviews and her memoir Noelle has shown a particular concern for questions that this passage raises, and a particular loathing for the strains of Protestant theology that take this passage and run with it - that is to say, Calvinism. So while I’m not sure if Noelle was raised as a conservative, Calvinist Presbyterian, his preoccupation with these questions mean that it’s time to talk about Calvinism.

It would be unfair, perhaps, to say that Calvinism is a systematic theology built entirely upon the Epistles of Romans and Galatians, but only -just- (and here my Catholic readers in particular will chuckle to themselves and lovingly stroke their favorite passage of the Epistle of James). The core of Calvinist Doctrine is often expressed by the very Dutch acronym TULIP:

Total Depravity - people are wholly evil, and incapable of good action or even willing good thoughts or deeds

Unconditional Election - God chooses some people to save because ¯\_(ツ)_/¯, not because they did anything to deserve, trigger or accept it

Limited Atonement - Jesus died only to save the people God chose to save, not the rest of us bastards

Irresistible Grace - God chooses some people to be saved - if you didn’t want to be saved, too bad, God said so.

Perseverance of the Saints - People often forget this one and assume it’s ‘predestination’ but it’s actually this - basically, once saved by God, always saved, and if it looks like someone falls out of grace, they were never saved to begin with. Well that’s all sealed up tight I guess.

Reading through these, predestination isn’t a single doctrine in Calvinism but the entire theological underpinnings of it together with humanity’s utter powerlessness before sin. Basically God has all agency, humanity has none. Calvinism (and a lot of early modern Protestantism) is obsessed with questions of how God saves people (grace alone, AKA Sola Fides) and who God saves (the people god elects and only the people God elects, and fuck everyone else).

It’s apparent that Noelle was really taken by these questions, and repelled by the answers he heard. He’s alluded to having a tattoo refuting the Gospel passage about Sheep and Goats being sorted at the end times, affirming instead that ‘we’re all just a bunch of wooly guys’ (you can see this goat tattoo in some of his self-portraits in comics, etc). He’s also mentioned that rejecting and subverting destiny is a huge part of everything he writes as a particular rejection of the idea that some individual people are 'chosen' by God or that God has a plan for any of us. You can see that -so clearly- in Adora’s arc, where Adora embraces and then rejects destiny time and again and finally learns to live life for herself.

But for Catra, we’re much more concerned about the most negative aspect of this - the idea that some people are vessels meant for destruction. And that’s something else that Noelle is preoccupied with. In her memoir in the section about leaving the church and becoming a humanistic atheist, there is a drawing of a pot and the question ‘Am I a vessel prepared for destruction?’ Obviously this was on Noelle’s mind (And this is before he came out to himself as queer!).

To look at how this question plays out in Catra’s entire arc, let’s first talk about how ideas of damnation and salvation actually play out in society. And for that I’m going to plug one of my favorite books, Gin Lun’s Damned Nation: Hell in America from the Revolution to Reconstruction (if you can tell by now, I am a fucking blast at parties). Lun tells the long and very interesting story about, how ideas of hell and who went there changed during the Early American Republic. One of the interesting developments that she talks about is how while at first people who were repelled by Calvinism started moving toward a doctrine of universal salvation (no on goes to hell, at least not forever*), eventually they decided that hell was fine as long as only the right kind of people went there. Mostly The Other - non-Christian foreigners, Catholics, Atheists, people who were sinners in ways that were not just bad but weird and violated Victorian ideas of respectability. Really, Hell became a way of othering people, and arguably that’s how it survives today, especially as a way to other queer people (but expanding this is slated for my Montero rant). Now while a lot of people were consciously rejecting Calvinist predestination, they were still drawing the distinction between the Elect (good, saved, worthwhile) and the everyone else (bad, damned, worthless). I would argue that secularized ideas of this survive to this day even among non-Christian spaces in our society - we like to draw lines between those who Elect, and those who aren’t.

And that’s what brings us back to Catra. Because Catra’s entire arc is a refutation of the idea that some people are worthless and irredeemable, either by nature, nurture or their own actions. Catra’s actions strain the conventions of who is sympathetic in a Kid’s cartoon - I’ve half joked that she’s Walter White as a cat girl, and it’s only half a joke. She’s cruel, self-deluded, she spends 4 seasons refusing to take responsibility for anything she does and until Season 5 she just about always chooses the thing that does the most damage to herself and others. As I mentioned in my Catra rant, the show goes out of its way to demonstrate that Catra is morally culpable in every step of her descent into evil (except maybe her break with reality just before she pulls the lever). The way that Catra personally betrays everyone around her, the way she strips herself of all of her better qualities and most of what makes her human, hell even her costume changes would signal in any other show that she’s irredeemable.

It’s tempting to see this as Noelle’s version of being edgy - pushing the boundaries of what a sympathetic character is, throwing out antiheroics in favor of just making the villain a protagonist. Noelle isn’t quite Alex ‘I am in the business of traumatizing children’ Hirsch, who seems to have viewed his job as pushing the bounds of what you could show on the Disney Channel (I saw Gravity Falls as an adult and a bunch of that shit lives rent free in my nightmares forever), but Noelle has his own dark side, mostly thematically. The show’s willingness to deal with abuse, and messed up religious themes, and volatile, passionate, not particularly healthy relationships feels pretty daring. I’m not joking when I gleefully recommend this show to friends as ‘a couple from a Mountain Goats Song fights for four seasons in a cartoon intended for 9 year olds’. Noelle is in his own way pushing the boundaries of what a kids show can do. If you read Noelle’s other works like Nimona, you see an argument for Noelle being at least a bit edgy. Nimona is also angry, gleefully destructive, violent and spiteful - not unlike Catra. Given that it was a 2010s webcomic and not a kids show, Nimona is a good deal worse than Catra in some ways - Catra doesn’t kill people on screen, while Nimona laughs about it (that was just like, a webcomic thing - one of the fan favorite characters in my personal favorite, Narbonic, was a fucking sociopath, and the heroes were all amoral mad scientists, except for the superintelligent gerbil**). But unlike Nimona, whose fate is left open ended, Catra is redeemed.

And that is weird. We’ve had redemption arcs, but generally not of characters with -so- much vile stuff in their history. Going back to the comparison between her and Azula, many other shows, like Avatar, would have made Catra a semi-sympathetic villain who has a sob-story in their origin but who is beyond redemption, and in so doing would articulate a kind of psychologized Calvinism where some people are too traumatized to ever be fully and truly human. I’d argue this is the problem with Azula as a character - she’s a fun villain, but she doesn’t have moral agency, and the ultimate message of her arc - that she’s a broken person destined only to hurt people - is actually pretty fucked up. And that’s the origin story of so many serial killers and psycopaths that populate so many TV shows and movies. Beyond ‘hurt people hurt people’ they have nothing to teach us except perhaps that trauma makes you a monster and that the only possible response to people doing bad things is to cut them out of your life and out of our society (and that’s why we have prisons, right?)

And so Catra’s redemption and the depths from which she claws herself back goes back to Noelle’s desire to prove that no person is a vessel ‘fitted for destruction.’ Catra goes about as far down the path of evil as we’ve ever seen a protagonist in a kids show go, and she still has the capacity for good. Importantly, she is not subject to total depravity - she is capable of a good act, if only one at first. Catra is the one who begins her own redemption (unlike in Calvinism, where grace is unearned and even unwelcomed) - because she wants something better than what she has, even if its too late, because she realizes that she never wanted any of this anyway, because she wants to do one good thing once in her life even if it kills her.

The very extremity of Catra’s descent into villainy serves to underline the point that Noelle is trying to make - that no one can be written off completely, that everyone is capable of change, and that no human being is garbage, no matter how twisted they’ve become. Meanwhile her ability to set her own redemption in motion is a powerful statement of human agency, and healing, and a refutation of Calvinism’s idea that we are powerless before sin or pop cultural tropes about us being powerful before the traumas of our upbringing. Catra’s arc, then, is a kind of anti-Calvinist theological statement - about the nature of people and the nature of goodness.

Now, there is a darker side to this that Noelle has only hinted at, but which is suggested by other characters on the show. Because while Catra’s redemption shows that people are capable of change, even when they’ve done horrible things, been fucked up and fucked themselves up, it also illustrates the things people do to themselves that make change hard. As I mentioned in my Catra rant, two of the most sinister parts of her descent into villainy are her self-dehumanization (crushing her own compassion and desire to do good) and her rewriting of her own history in her speech and memory to make her own actions seem justified (which we see with her insistence that Adora left her, eliding Adora’s offers to have Catra join her, or her even more clearly false insistence that Entrapta had betrayed them). In Catra, these processes keep her going down the path of evil, and allow her to nearly destroy herself and everyone else. But we can see the same processes at work in two much darker figures - Shadow Weaver and Horde Prime. These are both rants for another day, but the completeness of Shadow Weaver’s narcissistic self-justification and cultivated callousness and the even more complete narcissism of Prime’s god complex cut both characters off from everyone around them. Perhaps, in a theoretical sense, they are still redeemable, but for narrative purposes they might as well be damned.

This willingness to show a case where someone -isn’t- redeemed actually serves to make Catra’s redemption more believable, especially since Noelle and the writers draw the distinction between how Catra and SW/Prime can relate to reality and other people, not how broken they are by their trauma (unlike Zuko and Azula, who are differentiated by How Fucked Uolp They Are). Redemption is there, it’s an option, we can always do what is right, but someone people will choose not to, in part because doing the right thing involves opening ourselves to the world and others, and thus being vulnerable. Noelle mentions this offhandedly in an interview after Season 1 with the She-Ra Progressive of Power podcast - “I sometimes think that shades of grey, sympathetic villains are part of the escapist fantasy of shows like this.” Because in the real world, some people are just bastards, a point that was particularly clear in 2017. Prime and Shadow Weaver admit this reality, while Catra makes a philosophical point that even the bastards can change their ways (at least in theory).

*An idea first proposed in the second century by Origen, who’s a trip and a fucking half by himself, and an idea that becomes the Catholic doctrine of purgatory, which protestants vehemently denied!

**Speaking of favorite Noelle tropes

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 297: We’re Bustin’ Outta This Joint

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi did his best to undo all of the good vibes from the Girl Power arc by killing off Midnight. It sucks and I still don’t like it, but it is what it is. Unfortunately, Not Killing Off Your One Female Teacher Character With Any Character Development was worth 30% of his grade for the semester, so it brought his average down all the way to a C-, and so he and his report card will just have to live with that. Meanwhile Ochako did some rescuing, and the other U.A. kids lay around unconscious and/or traumatized. The chapter ended with an abrupt cut to Tartarus, where AFO is apparently just chilling and waiting for the Nearly High Ends to come bust him free. What kind of a cliffhanger is that to leave your fans hanging on for three whole weeks. Who’s suffering more here, the characters or the readers.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “okay I know you all want to know what happens to Deku and Shouto and the rest, but have you considered finding out what happens to Overhaul and Muscular and Moonfish and New Girl Character instead?” Fandom is all, “you had us at New Girl Character.” Seiji’s dad is all, “I’m just going to say a bunch of stuff to help make sure none of the readers feel conflicted about cheering on a bunch of mass murderers escaping from prison.” Tomura is all, “dammit AFO why are you still here.” AFO is all, “shhh, Tomura, go back to sleep.” Tomura is all, “wtf but you’re literally hijacking my body and continuing to shred it to bits while we break into BnHA Alcatraz to recruit your own personal Suicide Squad.” AFO is all, “:).” Real!AFO is all, “HERE I AM, EVERYONE, SORRY TO KEEP YOU WAITING.” And then the chapter ends. Geez.

oh shit lol it’s a whole big fucking page all about Tartarus

my very first thought was “that’s a long-ass fucking bridge”, and then I went to go google “longest bridges”, and Wikipedia was all “son there are literally a hundred and fifty bridges in the real world longer than 5km, and the longest one is actually 165km”, and I was all “oh shit I really don’t know jack shit about bridges.” then I looked at the list for a few more minutes and realized that the super-long bridges were all built over land, and that the longest bridge over water is only 38km. which is way more reasonable, but also still really fucking long though?? ngl I would freak the fuck out on that bridge. what does any of this have to do with Tartarus you ask?? absolutely nothing, I literally forgot I was reading a chapter for a sec lol uh

anyway, my parting thought on the bridge is that it kind of defeats the whole purpose of having a giant island fortress prison, but whatever. moving on

and the six levels thing is straight out of One Piece lol. something tells me BnHA’s prison break arc isn’t going to be quite as fun. hmm

so now we’re cutting to “the Bronze Gate”, which is the main entrance off of the bridge, and some goat-looking motherfucker is out here trying to become my new favorite character. bro

SON OF A BITCH WHAT’S WITH THE BULLETS FLYING IN THE BACKGROUND. DON’T TELL ME THEY’RE SHOOTING AT GYGES. THEY CAN’T KILL OFF MY FRESHEST HOMIE GYGES. SURELY THEY WOULDN’T

ooh and now, giant robots!

giant robots with machine guns. “I’m very sorry I killed off Midnight, makeste” you know what, fuck you Horikoshi. thinking you can buy my affections back so easily

does Gyges have six arms??? look how fucking calm he is announcing the code red security lockdown, holy shit. GYGES

NOOOO

NO NOT BRIAREUS. THIS DAY EXACTS A HEAVY TOLL

YO, WHAT

he came there himself?? so much for making the Noumus do his dirty work. and based on the speech bubble shape and font, this is still AFO talking

uh oh what’s happening

is he using Decay or is his arm just sort of crumbling to pieces because he hasn’t had time to heal up yet? if it’s the former this prison break is going to set a record for shortest arc yet isn’t it

now we’re cutting to B10 which is apparently the lowest level. but do they mean lowest as in the least security, or lowest as in the deepest underground, a.k.a. the most security? idk it’s confusing and I think they should be more specific. is it B like in basement?? are there six levels or ten?? stupid Tartarus

anyway so the guards are talking about how Gigantomachia is scheduled to arrive tomorrow morning. heh. will there even be a Tartarus tomorrow morning

(ETA: WELL, UH.)

wow they’re talking about just killing him outright. damn

I kinda feel like “prison guard” is one of those jobs that just sort of naturally attracts shitty people. anyways yeah, Seiji your dad is a real piece of work

and he’s even doubling down on it after the other guy repeatedly keeps trying to hush him up. dude we get it, you’re an asshole

ooh and now we’re getting an interesting look at the various prisoners, some of whom look suspiciously familiar!

for starters, that’s definitely Moonfish in the upper left corner, I’m like 99% sure. not quite clear who that is across from him in the upper right, but it’s been a hot minute since we saw Muscular, so maybe?

and could that be Overhaul in the panel beneath him?? they’re not showing his face so I assume it’s someone we’d recognize, and he’s the only currently-incarcerated villain with that haircut as far as I can recall. though it seems weird that he’s not restrained more given his quirk. I thought Horikoshi mentioned in Ultra Analysis that he’d gotten it back somehow. eh well we will wait for answers

I don’t recognize the person to his left either (though she has an oddly familiar look to her?). but the person on the bottom right, next to Kurogiri... is it Stain?? the hair and body language are sure giving off Stain vibes. if someone had told the me from two years ago that I’d actually be excited to see Stain again I would have said you were full of shit. and yet here we are. these sure are interesting times

anyway so now the Code Red intruder alarm is blaring. and I gotta say, that one scene sure was effective at killing any sympathy I might have been inclined to feel for these guards lol. bring on the imminent massacre

“what horrible timing” lol yes. it’s almost as if they planned it that way

uh oh

is he omae wa shindeiruing. watch your six, Mr. Prison Guard

oh shit

WHAT DID I SAY. WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY. but nooo, you all were all, “but a bridge is more convenient!” VERY WELL THEN, LIE IN THE BED THAT YOU HAVE MADE

anyway so it’s the High Ends lol. I mean we already knew it was them. let’s just get on with it

omfg Tomura ARE YOU RIDING ONE

WHAT ARE YOU, A NAZGUL. WHY IS THIS MY FAVORITE THING

and it looks like it actually is Tomura again, too (as opposed to AFOmura)

-- is he using Decay on himself?? is that what it is?? or no wait, is this just more of the weird side effect shit that’s been happening since he Awakened. actually yeah never mind that’s clearly what it is

y’all this man is out here having a full blown argument with himself

so this is equal parts compelling and hilarious to me right now lol. like I feel so bad for Tomura, but I also lowkey want to see how far this escalates. like do you think he’d go as far as to punch himself in the face. where will this journey lead us

fucking look at this shit

other people have already mentioned this, but with this scene especially it makes me really curious how they’re going to show this in the anime. will it be AFO’s voice coming out of Tomura’s mouth? or Tomura’s voice using AFO’s speech patterns? more importantly, will it be cool and dramatic, or will it actually wind up being hilarious? or both?? never count out both

also he’s looking pretty good there in that bottom panel with his one eye just barely visible. that doesn’t have anything to do with anything, but here I am, pointing it out

also also, lol at Tomura being all, “the fuck do you mean, ‘rest’, you’re the one that dragged my body out here to raid a fucking prison,” and AFO being all, “oh yeah, lol, true true, but I meant rest after that.” yes, this man clearly has nothing but the purest intentions, Tomura. trustworthy af

this fucking guy. Tomura is your bullshit radar finally operational yet?? can you see yet that it was always his intention to use you right from the very start?? oh man I am starting to get fidgety now listening to this

so Tomura’s saying he doesn’t just want to be used as a chess piece. and AFO is all, “well okay but what if it’s a VERY NICE AND IMPORTANT chess piece.” bro DID HE STUTTER

-- AHH BUT NEVER MIND THAT, HERE IT IS, THIS IS WHERE THE FUN STARTS OMG

GO ON AND ACQUIRE THEM THEN! omg. why am I so fucking excited. it seriously makes no sense. like seriously, ‘hooray, our old buddies, Overhaul and Stain!!’ -- come again now?? who is this person that I have become

meanwhile AFO is making all this fuss and I really don’t understand it though

why would you need to plow directly through the building. why can’t you just use doors like a normal person. it’s not like they can lock you out, like hello, you can literally turn anything you touch into dust, what’s with all the melodrama

anyway so he’s apparently hitting the prison with some sort of EMP attack now and shutting down all their systems

omg the suspense is killing me. this is going to be so badass once it’s animated, but right now all I keep thinking is “YES, GREAT, CAN WE PLEASE JUST MOVE IT ALONG”

the doors are opening ahhhhhhh come on come on come on let’s go let’s get to the excitement already

now the guards are running over to try and regain control. but, like

yeah that’s pretty much how I’m expecting the rest of this to go basically

so now they’re shooting at the dust cloud lol. well if there’s one thing movies have taught me, it’s that bad guys who wait inside clouds of dust while panicked cops blindly rain bullets at them until they run out of ammo are basically invincible lol. soooooo

OHHHHH SHIT

AHAHAHAHAHAHA. THEY ARE SO FUCKED LOL, SHIT

YEP, AND HERE’S ANOTHER ONE

is this the first time we’ve seen Moonfish’s face? I feel like we might have caught a glimpse of it before on an omake page or something. either way, it wasn’t anything I actually needed to see again. thanks...?? I guess??

okay but seriously, are we supposed to actually know who this badass lady is?? like I don’t know her but I feel like I know her, you feel?

(ETA: lol there are already like 60 different theories about how she’s related to every single character in the series. will be interesting to see if anything comes of this. although we did just get three “this villain was secretly related to [insert character(s) here] all along” reveals just in the last arc, so idk, it might be better if we pass on it this time lol.)

girl who are you. please stick around. for the love of god don’t let this man kill you off too

????

wait so is this Overhaul? boy sure has seen better days huh. but the floppy sleeves... yeah, it’s gotta be him

anyway so then the only ones missing are Stain and Kurogiri, yes?? omg. and one page left to go

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

NO ONE WILL BE ABLE TO CONVINCE ME HE COULDN’T HAVE DONE THIS SHIT RIGHT FROM THE VERY BEGINNING. FUCKING TIME-BIDING DRAMA QUEEN

AND HE’S JUST FLOATING HIS LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEM ALONG BEHIND HIM SOB. THIS FUCKING GUY

AND IS HE JUST ABSENTMINDEDLY DRAGGING SOME POOR SCHLUB’S CORPSE ALONG BESIDE HIM LIKE A SLEEPY TODDLER CARRYING THEIR TEDDY BEAR. I FUCKING CAN’T. REST IN PEACE, FRIEND. GIVE MY REGARDS TO GOOD OLD BRIAREUS

so that’s it! and we still don’t have any idea what AFO is actually planning to do now, after all of that. are they going to merge bodies?? or is he going to try to switch with him?? either way Tomura’s body has to be part of the plan somehow since he keeps making so much of a fuss over it. flkhglkhlk. dammit I need answers lol

[neonponders]

I have to be an adult today (whatever the hell that means) so this is short but I couldn’t help myself. Based on This Steve with This Billy post for the lovely @lovebillyhargrove 🌹 and @withoneheadlight 🌹

photographer!Steve and model!Billy - boyfriend shenanigans.

💋 💋 💋 💋 💋

Potentially Billy’s favorite thing about Steve - out of many characteristics - was how easily gob smacked he could be.

Billy knew what he looked like.

But still. Seeing Steve just kind of stare in wonder at him for a while never gets old.

He does it today, while Billy’s trying to pay attention to whatever his manager is saying. He can’t help but slide a smirk in Steve’s direction, though: the poor guy standing listlessly with one camera hanging around his neck, and another on a tall tripod next to him.

The manger notices and wraps up what he’s saying concisely. Billy understood his frustration. Billy and Steve working together had proven a 50/50 chance at making million dollar ad campaigns

Or

Just clumsy dates, really.

Billy had been Steve’s entrance into this business - a fact not lost on either of them since various managers and executives threatened reminded them of it whenever photoshoots fell through - but Billy’s second favorite thing about Steve was how he didn’t let that cause a rift between them. If anything, Steve asked for more jobs with Billy, even at the risk of being demoted to a photographer’s assistant or Billy’s personal assistant.

But it kept them together. It allowed Billy a reassurance on international flights that he’d have Steve available to climb into his first class seat whenever Billy’s fear of flying kicked in.

As much as the agencies loathed to admit it, Steve was like a walking insurance policy for one hot-headed Billy Hargrove. If a photographer said something wrong, treated the models rudely, or if he was merely having a bad day, Steve could step in, and Billy eye fucked his boyfriend for hours.

Other models requested Steve. Billy knew that was a big deal for his boyfriend and was proud of him. He could always find Steve on set, either by his brightly colored beanies, or the fluffy hair going without. That had helped Billy feel more at home in this business; he may have opened the door for Steve, but Steve furnished it with friends and loyal connections.

Today Steve yanked the head covering off, already hot under the lights. It was just Billy here, even though he raked a hand through his mane. Billy liked seeing the gleam on his hair. He also enjoyed Steve’s little self-esteem thing about needing his hair styled in the presence of models.

“Ready, pretty boy?”

Steve refocused and stepped behind the tripod. “Yeah. Whenever you are.”

Steve must’ve taken hundreds of photos just in the first half hour. He set it on a steady timer, and moved around the room, changing the lights to warm tones, and then less explosive on the brightness. Billy did his work, tilting himself appropriately to catch the fan’s breeze when Steve pointed it to blow his suit jacket open, or billow through his half-open, black dress shirt.

“Ten minute break,” Steve announced. He was good about breaks. Billy’s manager brought a chilled bottle of water and Steve went through the portfolio paperwork for the shoot. It wasn’t much of a break for him, as he moved the lights and furniture around, but Billy was ready for him.

He sat on the luxurious ottoman, already in his first stance when he peeked at the lack of camera noise. “Steve?”

His boyfriend stood with his shoulders a little contorted so he could examine something going on with the camera hanging from his neck. “Sorry. I...I need another minute.”

Billy relaxed as much as he could so the suit did not wrinkle or collapse in shape. Eventually, though, he noticed Steve crouching over one of his bags for his tools.

Oh boy.

Billy sauntered over, standing over him as he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Can you hold this?” Steve answered instead. He blindly held the camera up, and Billy accepted, along with the explanation, “The lens is uneven and one of the pieces is askew.”

Billy silently thanked him for not wielding fancy terms at him, but upon a closer look at the device, it certainly wasn’t correct. A thin, middle section between the lens and the camera tilted wonkily. He breathed with a small amount of awe, “How did that happen?”

“I don’t know. I think it got bumped during the drive,” Steve sighed, holding a tiny screw driver as he stood up.

“Come here,” Billy nodded toward the set, and Steve came to sit on the floor while using the ottoman as a table. He removed his jacket and wiped his forehead, glancing at the lights before Billy pestered, “What’s the matter?”

“I have to expose the sensor. With the shudder, it’s fine, but with too much light, we might be stuck with the tripod.”

“Can’t we turn off some lights?”

“I need to be able to see. Maybe you could, um, just hold your hands over it? Or hold that umbrella for me?”

Billy detached the umbrella from one of the unused lights and sat on the ottoman, with the umbrella situated on his thighs. As the camera became more exposed, he added his hands for extra shade. Eventually Steve surprised him with, “Are you okay?”

“Hm? I’m fine. We do this all the time.”

“Wasting a lot of time, though,” he exhaled nervously.

“We’re going to Sydney on Friday. That’s locked in, so don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t think blowing one shoot is justified by the promise of another,” Steve managed to giggle. Then he tilted his face up and just...gazed at him. “You look really good.”

Billy smirked softly. “I know.”

Steve’s eyes rolled. “Forgot who I was working with here.”

Billy laughed and saw in his periphery people moving around, other cameras working. This job always had multiple cameras. Hair and makeup stylists capturing their work from afar. His and Steve’s managers locking in behind the scenes shots for Instagram. Another perk of their success: the fanfare material behind the cameras built as much revenue as the actual scheduled photoshoots.

As Steve unscrewed something, Billy saw and heard the clatter of it falling back into place. “That’s good, right?”

Steve sighed a relieved smile up at him. Billy felt ticklish warmth in his chest. “Yeah, that’s good. The screws are probably bent, but I can get new ones before Friday. It’ll work for now.”

Steve put the damn thing back together while Billy returned the umbrella, and resumed his posture on the ottoman. A couple of people manifested around him to touch up his raiment and make sure his shirt was open to cleavage perfection.

“Steve, come here.”

The stylists retreated as his photographer trotted up -

Billy yanked him down for a kiss. And just as quickly pushed him back up to standing. “Go to work, my time is precious.”

“Don’t be a dipshit,” Steve remarked, and pointed the camera right at Billy’s face to make the lights flash in revenge.

Come Friday, Billy showed him something on his phone: the Instagram account his manager operated. Much to both of their amusement and chagrin - because a long day taking pictures was more grueling than most people realized - was a picture behind the magazine editor’s shoulder while he worked at his computer.

The caption read: Impromptu cover. Sometimes candid is better.

The image was Steve on the floor and Billy on the ottoman, the two of them gazing at each other mid-conversation in the set’s warm lighting.

Steve chewed his fruit and yogurt slowly, processing in the airport vip lounge. His hair was in glorious disarray, and Billy’s not much better underneath his ball cap.

“That’s the cover?”

“Seems so.”

“Your manager’s going to steal my job with a phone camera - why am I on the cover?”

“The theme was Warm Encounters,” Billy reminded. “It’s not a secret that we’re together.”

“I’m not styled or anything - ”

“Your hair looks good.”

“I’m wearing the t-shirt I got in Hong Kong. It says BURBUSSY.”

Billy laughed and closed the app. He pushed his leg to rest alongside Steve’s. “Good thing you were turned around. We don’t know if Burberry has a sense of humor.”

[bee-cried]

SoRRY I JUST WANNA FANGIRL ABOUT THE BLUES REAL QUICK

This ship is my HEART

I love them so much omg. I just wanna talk about them in the mth universe real quick okay? Okay.

I love how SBJ wrote Boomer.

I SINCERELY LOVE THE WAY SHE WROTE HIM.

Oh god. Im going back to my early 2012 days when i was obsessed with fanimations of the Powerpuff girls and i would legit sit around and watch hours of the same animated stuff (im looking at you rrb x ppnkg Katy Perry ET fan music video)

But because we were all pretty young at the time and not really that creatively original, we all sort of just made Boomer some innocent, soft boy in the fanfics who instantly fell for Bubbles and they would just be a couple.

BUT GAH DAMN DID SBJ SUBVERT MY EXPECTATIONS.

Being a kiddo at the time, and assuming that only people around my age were writing ppg fanfics, I was like "TCH, why is everyone on Deviant art obsessing over this More Than Human cRAp. I caN wRiTE a BeTTeR fAnFIc."

But then I read it.

And it was more than grammar/spelling errorless, unlike most fics I read.

the characters had DIMENSION.

I didn't expect to see

Blossom as a dancer

Butch into Blossom (i was a big cry baby over color crack ships, but her fic became the exception.)

Brick being mature and scary

BOOMER AS A GOOFBALL

AND BUBBLES LITERALLY DENYING HIM OF HIS AFFECTION

Talk about a full 180.

And I know, I KNOW THAT DOESN'T SEEM LIKE A BIG DEAL. BUT OMG WHEN I TELL YOU THEIR EARLY INTERACTIONS ARE SO FUCKIN-

AHHHHHHHHH

Its the way Boomer tries to pin her for me.

It's the way he's literally obsessed for me.

It's the Bubbles seeing right through him for me.

IT'S THE "MR. STEAL YO GIRL" ATTITUDE FOR ME.

Boomer has literally worked so MOTHA FUKN hard to get this ONE GIRL'S ATTENTION who , as Brick clearly puts it, "IS THE ENEMY"

And he falls for her over a Mariah Carey song. HE KNEW IF YOU COULD SING LIKE MIMI... BITCH THERE IS NO COMPETITION.

Omg i feel bad for Hailey.

Oh yeah and, he and Hailey... Bruh. This guy gets his ex to agree to play an Avril song with him just so he can serenade BUBBLES.

THAT IS SO

Boomer. Omg that is so Boomer cause it's like his thought process>> "I know we broke up, but your guitar skills are awesome and I really need you blessing.... Yes by your blessings im referring to your guitar playing...Yes this is for another girl"

" ...Yes it's for Bubbles... Please don't hate me."

And just the fact that Bubbles is like, "Hun, I don't care if you're up there singing "I will Always Love you" to me. If the name ain't Will, you can gon' 'head and chill. "

But Boomer is so determined.

Everytime he gets the chance to impress her, he doesn't hesitate. He's sung to her in the rain (sort of). He picked up on joining the school musical just to have the slim opportunity of kissing her. Can you imagine him , up at like 1 a.m on a school night watching a bunch of musicals foR BUBBLES.

And their banter is so cute! Bubbles knows Boomer's game and she likes to play it just enough to keep HERSELF entertained. She is fully aware she's tempering with a ROWDYRUFF BOY. She see's his tricks from a mile away.

So they just go back and forth and back and forth because really, even though Boomer says he doesn't take his shenanigans with Bubbles seriously...

This is the only thing he's had to work for. Like legit, everything else he's got was because of a hand out or advantages.

His musical talent: a handout from HIM

His first girlfriend: The advantages of his good looks

JS Inc: An advantage from being Bricks brother and being a rowdyruff boy

No neck joe: His advantage of playing instruments (and because he was a ruff boy)

Him becoming popular: his advantages of, music, rrb background and good looks BOOM

BUT DON'T NONE OF THAT SHIT IMPRESS BUBBLES ENOUGH TO GIVE HIM THE TIME OF DAY 😭

She doesn't care that he's hot, that he's popular, that he can literally play her anything ahe wants, just how she likes it. She doesn't care that he says "he'll be nice" or "play fair" or whatever, or that he's literally so charming, so smooth, he treats her as if she's the only girl to exist in his world. He's tried to amplify that he cares about her by hurting other people- BUT IT'S IN HER NAME.

No. What Bubbles want is simple...

It's commitment.

If he can't be committed to love her (I mean look at how easily he threw Hailey aside), or be there when she needs him, or simply BE COMMITTED TO BEING A GOOD PERSON.

Then she can not date him.

Because she doesn't just want to date a cute guy, she wants to be in love with someone she trusts...

And at first it seems like Boomer just wants to have her as an accessory to his life, and he DOES. The guy literally expects her to drop her relationship with Will just so they can live out his five minute fantasy.

But slowly he realizes, it's more than that magnificent voice. He likes to see her flustered and he doesn't like seeing her upset because of what people say about her. He doesn't want her to be annoyed by him, or to just brush off his advances.

He starts to really want her.

Like REALLY want her, because whatever they've built, that's the only thing he's had to work for in his life, and he loves her for that. He loves her even more when she implies that he is just as important as his brothers and that it's okay to be just a teenager in love. He loves her and his music, she doesn't ask for more from him. She wants him to be happy, and he wants to just be happy with her.

AHH FUCK I CAN TALK FOREVER ABOUT THESE TWO OKAY??

FOREVER

THEY ARE MY OTP

But dear lord, I've been typing for some time

Anyway, YES. I adore their dynamic. Boomer may be more of a douche than he realizes but he's never had to work for anything. He's never really been challenged. Bubbles is his only challenge EVEN WHEN THEY GET TOGETHER, he begins questioning the longevity of what they have because he's reminded that he's not the first and Bubbles has a heart of her own. No matter what he does, because of who she is (not just to him, but in general) he cannot manipulate that. He can not force Bubbles to love him if she falls out of love with him. And that's so world shattering for him because the girl is literally his WORLD. Like no other person could replace her because Bubbles is literally all of who he is. He feels like, if he loses her, what is he? What's his purpose? This is the only thing he's ever built.

Which is really, incredibly sad because he shouldn't think of their relationship like that, but he's so deeply in love with her, for him there really is no other. You could try to hand him "the girl of his dreams" and he'd just... Sort of laugh and turn right to Bubbles because everyone knows, THAT'S the girl of his dreams. It's the only girl he'd want to be with.

A lot of people probably won't believe me if I said I'm also a big boomercup shipper, because their dynamic just works so well.

Okay, i am done FANGIRLING. Thanks for reading my long ass post.

[layniapetrovnaaa]

“No boys”

 Request: @soytrash

Hey beautiful 🤍 how about a cute little moment between reader and Logan with Laura regarding a crush 🥺And Logan is just overprotective, but prior to Laura coming home from school and talking about a crush, Logan is trying to get some from reader 🥵 please and thank you hun let me know if that’s okay or not 🥰 (maybe with the baby from your family series too) sorry if it’s too much I love your writing 🥺🤍 

Warnings: Smut, swearing (if you squint).

A/n: Do you guys picture yourself when reading fanfiction? Cause I do and don’t haha. Typically when I read/write for Logan I picture myself as Scarlett Johansson in Match Point and The Island lol. I’d love to hear about you guys, so just let me know!

Reader is written as under 30 y/o, if you are older, just change the number :)

I hope this is good enough (I’m not really that confident in this one). Let me know if you have any constructive criticism. 

[The Howlett Family series] 

It was a particularly warm day in the Canadian Rockies, warm enough to open a few windows and have the cozy log house smelling of the fresh outdoor air. the window above the sink that you were currently standing at let a breeze into the house that tickled you just enough to have your body bear a small chill. 

As you rinsed one of the bowls you had used this morning to prepare breakfast, your hips swayed side to side in a fluid manor that matched the rhythm of the song that lightly boomed out of the speaker which sat by the fruit bowl on the counter. The reason behind the low volume was that Logan was currently trying to put your youngest daughter down for her daily afternoon nap. If the wails and grumbling coming from the baby monitor was any indication, it wasn't going very well.

You dried off your hands and picked up the monitor, holding down on the button that allowed your voice to come through on the other end.

“You need some help?”

“We’re fine. I just cant find her goddamn pacifier.”

“Did you check on the shelf by her changing table?” you spoke again.

Suddenly the crying stops and you smile knowing he found it.

He lets out a quiet “Thanks.”

You set the monitor back down and go back the the half a dozen dishes left in the sink.

“Kid’s quite the screamer hm?” you announce as Logan walks out from the hallway a few minutes later.

“Yeah she is, I think she got it from her mother.” he jokes walking around the island to be closer to you.

You let out a breathy gasp like-laugh.

“Oh really?” you say in an exaggerated tone, humor still consuming it.

“Mhm, and speaking  of screaming...” he places his hands on your waist and squeezes a bit.

“We can’t baby, Laura's gunna be home in like ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes is enough time. I can’t help it, you just look so sexy--”

Before he can finish you interrupt.

“Logan, you know damn well ten minutes isn't enough time.”

“I just need something [Y/N].” he says as his hands find your breasts and you let out a small moan, abandoning the dish towel and griping the counter.

He kisses your neck, sucking and nipping at the soft flesh, which brings forth light breathy moans from your mouth.

You turn your head to kiss him and you can feel yourself throb a bit when your lips meet. his hands dip into your top and pull your breast out of their confines, teasing your nipples with his fingers.

He continues to grope and kiss you as his dominant hand makes its way into your pants.

You moan loudly into his mouth as the pad of his middle finger circles your clit a few times.

His lips separate from yours so he can speak.

“Hmm, You like that?” he says in his breathy and gruff voice.

You can’t seem to make out any words, so instead you offer an almost whiny sounding “Mhm.” as his fingers inch lower.

You gasp, throwing your head back onto his shoulder, your right hand coming up to hold the back of his neck, as his middle and ring fingers enter your tight lubricated hole.His fingers curling in the classic “come hither” position, making you squeeze around his digits.

Even after all of the time you had spent with Logan, your body still didn't know how to handle the pleasure, that being evident in the way that your back arched and you sporadically bucked your hips back into his crotch with every jolt of pleasure that you felt.

Your moans were absolutely erotic as he seemed to push further into you, finding that spot that did in fact make you scream.

And the explicit squelching noises were making you even more desperate as he fucks you with his fingers.

As you let out another slew of loud moans, you feel his hand come up to cover your mouth.

“As much as I love hearing those pretty noises you make, baby, you gotta be quiet.”

Your eyes rolled back and fluttered shut at his his words and the vibrations from your moans bouncing against his cupped hand.

His thumb starts to circle your clit in the same rhythm that his fingers were moving in.

God, you were so done for.

He releases his hand from over your mouth before he asks:

“You gunna cum?”

“Mhmm” you let out in high pitched whine.

“Ouh! Don’t stop.” you pleaded as that marvelous feeling started to take over.

“That’s right baby, jus like that.” he speaks, egging you on until your mouth falls open and your eyes squeeze shut, your orgasmic euphoria taking over.

Eventually your body comes back down to earth.

“Look at that, you got three minutes to spare.” he coos in a triumphant tone.

Your breath is heavy and you whimper slightly when he pulls his fingers out of you.

You glance over to the built in clock in the stove before readjusting yourself and catching your breath.

Turning around, you plant your hands on the space where his shoulders and neck connect, and kiss him. Your tongues danced together sensually until you pulled away.

“I wish I could return the favor...” you hum and he kisses you again.

“You will later.” he says as the screeching of the school bus tires alerts you of Laura’s homecoming.

You look up at him and bite your lip, giving him a sensual smile as you nod.

You separate from him as you hear the front door open, going over to greet Laura.

“Hey honey, how was school?”

You could hear Logan in the kitchen, chuckling at your total change in demeanor. 

You turn slightly to roll your eyes at him, but the small amused smirk on your face gives you away.

You turn back to your daughter as she answers you while getting her homework and lunchbox out of her backpack.

“It was alright. We got to watch a movie in my english class, so that was  nice.”

You follow her to the kitchen where she sits at one of the bar stools at the dark wood island, slapping her purple folder and pencil onto the table.

You noticed something off with the young mutant, like she wasn’t telling you something.

When she looked up to see you and Logan analyzing her, she knew she would have to put on a better performance if she wanted to keep her secret. Fortunately for you, she wasn’t feeling up for a challenge today. And it’s not that she wanted to hide what her friends had told her was called a “crush”, but she knew how her parents would probably react.

“Laura, is there something you need to tell us?” Logan spoke.

“Sweetheart, you know you can tell us anything, right?” you squeeze her shoulder in a loving manor.  

She nods, taking in a breath before turning to you and muttering: No puedes decírselo a papá... (You can’t tell daddy...)

Hearing this concerned you. Laura and Logan had a pretty open relationship, despite their constant bickering.

Your eyes quickly flick over to Logan, who was watching you and Laura, his arms crossed while he leans against the kitchen counter.

“Que es Laura?”

Logan was accustom to yours and Laura’s more private conversations you had in spanish. He wasn't really a fan, only because when they would occur, he felt left out. But, he figured this must be important and waited patiently before asking you what she had just said about him.

“Hay un chico en mi clase que está enamorado de mí.” (There is this boy in my class who is in love with me). Her voice is quiet, but her tone sounds exasperated.

Logan's brows furrowed when he heard “un chico”. He didn't know much spanish, but he did know that un chico meant a boy, and he did not like the sound of that.

You snort, your hand quickly flying up to cover your mouth before you speak.

“Aww Laura!”

A shy grin spreads across her face.

“What did she say?” Logan speaks up

You bite your lip, trying to hold in your small bit of laughter. You look over at Laura and can tell that, although she is nervous for what her fathers reaction may be, it would be best to tell him about her dilemma.

“Laura has a not so secret admirer.”

“He wrote me a note.” she says, grabbing a crinkled white paper from her pocket.

You could tell by her humorous tone that she found the situation comical, and didn't seem to reciprocate the feelings.

Logan on the other hand had immediately gone into full protective father mode, snatching the note from her hand, and reading over it to make sure nothing obscene had been written/drawn on it.

After he is finished looking at it he crumples it up and puts it in the garbage.

“No boys until you are 30.”

“Logan don’t be ridiculous.” you say, walking over to fish the note out of the can.

“I am not being ridiculous.” he scoffs, incredulously.

“In fact, I think I’m being a bit lenient. 30 years old is a perfectly reasonable age to start being romantic with someone.” he says, and now it was your turn to scoff as you hand the paper to Laura.

She makes a disgusted face and holds the very corner with her pointer finger and thumb. You couldn't tell if it was because it had been in the trash, or because of it’s contents.

You turn back to face Logan and cross your arms.

“You do realize that we’ve had a baby together and I’m not yet 30, right?”

He retracts slightly, and grumbles:

“That’s different.”

“Uh-huh” you reply sarcastically.

“The feelings are not mutual by the way.” Laura finally speaks up. Deciding to clear the air before an argument started brewing.

“I don’t have a crush on him.”

“That’s my girl.” Logan says, and you chuckle.

“That conversation is not finished by the way.” you say while you walk over to the pantry to get Laura a snack, Logan grimaces, thinking of the conversation that would come later.

“Daddy?”

“Hmm?”

“How did you and Mama end up together?”

“Uhh, well...” he starts, glancing up at you, not sure if it was the right time to share.

Yours and Logan’s story was a bit controversial. The reason being that you were only 19 when you first “got together”, and Logan was your ex-teacher. And it wasn't exactly the most orthodox either. Instead of the typical flowers and a dinner date, it was more like neither of you could sleep one night, and one thing led to another, which led to you waking up in his arms in the morning. You had always had romantic feelings towards The Wolverine. Though they were never truly discussed, you both knew they were there, and you knew they were unbreakable. So, after that night, you two became exclusive.

“We met at Charles’ school, you know that.” you speak, setting the packet of crackers in front of the pre-teen, and walking over to grab an apple to cut up for her.

Laura sighs, knowing that she probably wouldn't get the answer she was looking for if you weren't willing to share it.

She rips open the wrapper, glaring at Logan when he steals a cracker from her.

“Well, how did you know you had a crush on each other?”

You chuckle lightly as the knife cuts into the ripe and scarlet colored fruit.

“We didn’t exactly have a crush on each other, Laura.” Logan starts, but a dry cough finishes the sentence.

You look up at him, asking if he was alright with your eyes.

He gives you a blunt nod as he lets out a deep breath.

You notice your daughters furrowed brow as she munches on the biscuit, and elaborate on Logan’s previous statement.

“Your father and I’s relationship is a bit complicated and unconventional, Laura. What he was saying was that we have and had a connection on a level so much more than a crush.”

She nods and pops another cracker in her mouth.

“But,” the crisp sound of the apple interrupts you slightly.

“usually when you have a crush on someone, you get the feelings of butterflies in your stomach whenever you see or think about that person. You smile when they smile, and laugh when they laugh. You want to be around them all the time, and you try to get their attention. You sometimes get nervous, and jealous of others that are close to them.”

You place the apple slices on a plate and slide it over to her, cleaning up the slight mess you had made and you glance over at her.

Laura sat starring at the plate as she thought of all of her symptoms you had just listed.

“Why were you asking?” Logan asks, his voice stern and suspicious.

She looks up, once again nervous.

You smile, getting an inkling as to where this is going.

“Well, there’s this-”

“No Laura. No boys, remember?” Logan interrupts, his custodial protectiveness resurfacing.

“It’s not a boy.” she mutters.

Logan blinks a few times, looking over to your grinning face.

“It’s a girl?” he asks, making sure that he wasn’t getting mixed up at all.

Laura looks up from the oxidizing apples a second time and nods.

“Well,” he leans back in his seat, breathing out.

“Tell me ‘bout her.”

She grins and you smile back, lovingly.

And then she doesn’t stop talking about the girl with the dark umber skin and curly caramel highlights until you have to remind her to eat her apple slices.

[hobbitsnapes]

the elf in the café chapter 3

A corpse husband story

(I do not own this photo, nor do I know where it originated from. All credit goes to the artist.)

Summary: Never in his life, did he think going to a cafe and meeting a Harry Potter nerd could change his life. (I’m shit at summaries)

A/N: H/N means his name, being that we don’t know what his actual name is currently.

Each day passes by, and neither couldn’t stop texting one another. They’d text at least once a day, whether it be how their day had been, or trying to plan a day to see one another again. Their sleeping schedule was quite similar, but with her waking up early each morning for class. But he’d still get texts from her in the middle of the night, how she managed to do her schoolwork on such little sleep was beyond him.

She chalked it up to having done this for so many years, that she grew used to staying up late at night only to wake early in the morning.

They had finally set a day for the date, the coming Saturday. Nerves wracked him each day it grew closer, but excitement filled him further. He hadn’t felt this excited to have someone over, honestly since David had come by. Since then, he’s had little to nobody come over. Let alone having a date come. Each day that grew closer, the happier he became to seeing her again.

Panic filled him as he scrambled to get the rest of the ingredients ready to throw in the pot. He had decided on trying to make menestra de verduras, a soup he remembered having as a child. He however completely forgot how difficult the dish was to make, when you had never made it and have little to no culinary skills.

A knock was heard at the door, causing him to drop the spoon he had in his hand, splattering sauce all over the floor. “Fuck!” He exclaimed, grabbing his apron and hastily taking it off, wiping away the mess. He ran over to the door, stopping and checking in the mirror to make sure he hadn’t got any on himself. Once he saw there was none, he ran to open the door.

She waited at the door of the apartment, slightly fidgeting with her jacket. She heard a muffled yell,her heart rate increasing.

She waited for about a minute,growing concerned she had red the text wrong and got the wrong apartment.

That was until the door was hastily opened, spotting him in the doorway. He had a smile on his face, his hair slightly pushed back out of his face. Her breath hitched when she saw him, taking notice of his attire. Black pants that were pulled over a dark grey dress shirt, with the sleeves cuffed to about his mid arm. It was a slightly fitted top, showing his toned torso and arms nicely. “Hi.” He chuckled out, sounding slightly out of breath.

He pulled her into a hug,inhaling his smell almost instantly. The smell of pine hitting her nose, making her smile. His warm arms envelope her so comfortably, masking the chill of the night air from her.

They pulled away slightly, arms still around one another. Their faces were close, berry feeling each other’s breathing fan across their faces. They both smiled, growing warmth in the face from the close proximity.

He let her inside, telling her to have a seat on his couch.

He ran back over to the kitchen, ready to chop up a few more of the vegetables. He kept stealing glances at her, his breath catching each time.

He knew from the second he saw her she was beautiful, but tonight, she was breathtaking.

A soft tan floral top was tucked into a black pleated skirt, that hit right above her knee. It sit right at her waist, giving her a very romantic vintage feel. Her legs were covered by flesh colored nylons, black ballet flats covered her feet. Her hair was slightly curled, framing her face perfectly. Her face looked almost bare, but her eyes sparkled as if she had gems in them. Her cheeks were dusted with a soft flush, with the rest of her skin glowing, as if she was being lit with candle light. The only truly noticeable makeup was her lips, painted in a soft, rose red color. Making them look like a freshly budded flower.

Panic sets in him as he rushes to cut the rest of the remaining vegetables, anxiety growing with the sound of the soup boiling. “Fuuckk.” He whispers to himself, seeing the soup burning. He scrambled to shut the burner off, trying his hardest to try and figure out how to salvage the dinner. He should’ve chose something easier, something that he wouldn’t fuck up and ruin the entire night. God why did he even bother trying to-“Hey what’s going on? Everything alright?” She asks, making his heart plummet into his chest. He feels her hand on his shoulder, knowing she can feel him shaking. “Uh-m. Yeah yeah it’s fine, I just kinda burnt the entire thing.” He stammers, giving up on trying to steady his voice. His hands tangle into his hair, pulling the long strands. He wishes he could just disappear, get away from the sheer embarrassment of the situation. “Here let me see.” She says, slightly moving beside him to look at the now ruined soup. Her face slightly falling, dread filling him. She looks up at him, no trace of anger or annoyance in her face. “Here, why don’t I make something tonight? Is that okay?” She asks, her voice smooth and calming. “Uh, sure. I’m so sorry.” “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, now, I have an idea of something I can whip up.” His heart slightly calms down at her words, no longer worrying about ruining the entire night. “Alright, I’m gonna need milk, flour, pees and some kind of fish. Salmon is best for this.” She says, walking over and opening some of the food cupboards. He runs to grab the supplies, knowing he has all of those.

In less than 30 minutes, dinner was plated and ready. He watched her in amazement as she whizzed around the room, effortlessly making the entire dinner like it was second nature. Not once did he see any panic, or rush in her. It’s like she had done this for forever, knowing exactly what to do so easily.

They both sat on the couch, pulling the table closer for them. He let out a small moan at the taste, a smile on his face as he ate. It was shockingly amazing, way better than the disaster he was gonna make for them both. “This is amazing.” He says, causing a smile on her face. “Thanks, it’s an old recipe that I’ve made countless times over the years.” She chuckled, watching as he eats smiling. “Where'd you learn it?” He asks. “It’s a really common recipe in New England, that’s actually where I’m from. I grew up primarily in both New Hampshire and Vermont.” “Wow, so then what made you come to San Diego?” He asks,watching as she let out a small sigh. “School mostly, and to get away from, some people.” He can hear the sadness in her voice, his heart panging slightly.

“That was so amazing, thank you.” He says, watching as she chuckles as she dried the bowls. “You’ve said that like 4 times tonight.” “And I’m gonna keep saying it cause it was amazing.” He laughs, causing her to throw her head back in laughter.

They both settle in on the couch, sitting beside one another. “Uh, I don’t really watch TV, so we’ve really only got my laptop to watch stuff. Is that okay?” He asks, looking over at her. “That’s perfectly fine cause I don’t watch TV either.” She laughs.

“Alright so I’ve got Netflix, Hulu, and prime. What’s something you’d like?” He asks, setting his laptop up in front of them. “Uh, are you into horror movies?” She asks. “I like them.” He chuckles. “Okay so do you wanna watch a classic, hack and slash, paranormal, or psychological?” Age asks, a smile on her face. “Whatever you like, I’m fine with anything you’d want.” He asks, a smirk on his face. He watched as she flushed, smiling at her. “Psychological it is then.”

“That was, what?” He asks, watching as the credits roll. They had gotten closer throughout the movie, no longer with a small bit of space between them like they started. Their legs and sides touched, facing the laptop. His arm later behind her, after a while of toying with the idea and barely moving his arm, he finally built up the courage and placed his hand over her shoulder, letting out a breath when she smiled and scooted closer to him. Letting him put his arm over her. Both of their faces flushed.

“Did you not like it?” She asks, looking up at him. “No i did, it just was kinda weird. What was the name of it again?” “The school. It’s one of my favorites because of how different it is. And you gotta remember, I’m in school to become a Behavioral psychologist. It’s in my nature to like these kinda movies.” “Hm, at least there’s one smart one here.” He chuckles, pulling her in closer. “You’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for.” She chuckles. “Oh yeah, how can you tell?” He asks, looking down at her. She looks at him with her eyebrows raised, a small smirk on her face. “Oh yeah.” He laughs, realization setting in. Causing both of them to laugh.

“So now, do you need a PHD to become a psychologist?” “In the state of California, yes. You also need 3,000 hours of supervised experience, 1,500 which can be pre-doctoral. I started college when I was 17, completing my bachelors when I was 20. Now I’ve only got about 5 more years until I’m finished with my PhD which is another word for a Doctorate.” “Well damn, miss smarty pants. Got everything don’t ya.” He says, making her look at him in question. “Got not only brains but beauty.” He says, making her flush and shove her head into his chest, causing him to laugh as he pulls her in further.

They both sat on the couch with another movie playing, neither one paying any attention to it. They both had opened a bottle of wine he had for some time, deciding to have a glass. He had it for years, always saying he’ll leave it for a special occasion. Well tonight seemed like the perfect night for it.

Neither were drunk or even tipsy, maybe a slight buzz. But it did help to wash away any small ounce of awkwardness between them. He slightly opened up more, cracking jokes with ease and making her laugh so hard she had to use the bathroom 3 times.

“And the movies over. I can’t even remember what it was.” He laughs, watching as the credits finish. “I honestly don’t even think we picked anything. I think we just clicked on it and used it for background noise.” She laughed. “Well then, what do you wanna do?” He asks, arms folded comfortably over himself, the same smirk planted on his face. “Well, there is something I love doing.” She says, a smile on her face.

Both laughed out loudly as they moved around the room, arms around one another as they tried keeping up with the song. They tried keeping in beat with the song playing in the beginning, but giving up halfway through.

He has been leading it for the most part, having loved dancing for years. But not doing it in years, and having a good buzz on him, made his moves a little worse than he remembered. But neither cared as they moved around the room, laughing as they sang along to the song. The song came to an end, both stoping with their movements momentarily. “Wait, I know the perfect one.” He says, running over to the laptop. He types in something, then runs down the hall out of the living room. She wondered if he’s lost his mind and ran off. That is until she hears the beginning of the song, letting out a laugh. “Just take those old records off the shelf!” He sings, sliding across the floor in his socks, making her clutch her stomach in laughter as he recreates the scene perfectly. Using a hairbrush as the makeshift microphone. He breaks after a few lines, falling over laughing. She runs over to him, bending down to see if he’s okay. She can’t help but fall over laughing with him, him pulling her in closer as they both wheeze out laughing on the floor.

“That was, oh my god.” He laughs, barely able to catch his breath from his laughter as they sit down. They danced for another hour, barely able to contain their laughter as tears fell down their faces. “God I haven’t had that much fun in, I can’t even remember.” She laughs, her head resting on his shoulder.

She lets out a small yawn, trying to cover it with her hand. “It’s getting pretty late.” He says, his voice hoarse due to laughter. “Yeah it is, but, there’s something I’ve been waiting for all week.” She says, making him look at her in question. Until he remembers, a smile breaking on his face. “Oh yeah I forgot, you still want me to say batman or snape lines.” He chuckles. She sits up, her eyes wide as she smiles. He can’t help but smile at the excitement on her face. “Alright fine. But you better feel lucky, I’ve had so many people ask me this and I’ve refused for forever.” “Well that’s not the only reason why I’m lucky.” She says, making him flush. “Alright, I’m guessing you want me to say the obvious one.” He says, making her nod her head in excitement. He lets out a small cough, taking in a breath. “I’m Batman.” He says in his most serious voice. Making both throw their heads back in laughter. “That was, that was perfect hun.” She laughs, her face falling in realization when she realized what she said. Her heart plummets to the bottom of her stomach. “Hey it’s okay, I kinda like it.” He chuckles.

“Okay what’s another one you want?” “Hm, how about your best snape you can.” She asks. He coughs again, reading his voice. “Mister Potter.” He says, trying his best to try and emulate the potion Professor. Making her laugh at his struggle to match the accent. “That one was really bad.” He chuckles. “No it wasn’t, tire doing such a good job.” She laughs. “You’ve got the perfect voice for both, although I do prefer your own voice over each of them.” She says, a flush to her face. “Oh yeah?” He asks, changing his voice slightly to have a more flirty tone. He watched as she flushed harder, trying to cover her face in her hands. “So you like when I talk like this?” He asks, the same tone but with a smirk on his face. He chuckles as she completely covers her face in her palms, shaking her head yes. “Then I’ve got one that you’ll really like. Come here.” He says, pulling her into his side. He looks down at her, watching as she removes her face from her hands. He has a smile on his face as he looks at her. “What up baby?” He says, making her slightly squeal out and bury her face in his chest. Making him laugh as she burrows her head into him. Wrapping his arms around her as he shakes from laughter.

“Tonight was amazing, thank you so much.” She says. Both of their arms around one another as they stand at the door.

It was extremely late at night, neither realizing how late it was until they checked the time. Neither wanted to leave, wishing they could stay in the small bubble they created that night. “Are you sure you can drive home? I can call a cab or an Uber-“ “I’m fine hun, it’s been hours and I only had a glass and a half of wine. I’ll make it home safely. Trust me, I’m really careful.” She says, a hand resting on his cheek. He can’t help but smile at her, wishing so bad to pull her back inside and having her stay. “Alright, text me or even call me when you can.” “I’ll call you when I get home okay? Now get some sleep, I can tell this past week it’s a habit of yours not to get much.” “How did you, oh wait I forgot again. Damnit.” He laughs, making her chuckle. “Yeah, can’t fool someone like me.” She teases. “Alright fine, but I’ll be waiting for that call before I even lay down.” He says, making her smile. He pulls her in for another hug, his heart beating out of his chest when he feels her soft lips press a kiss into the side of his jaw.

She pulls away with a smile, watching as his face flushes a deep red with a dumbfounded smile on his face. “Bye hun.” She says, walking away from the door, his eyes watching her until she’s out of sight. His fingers lightly touching the spot from her lips, pulling them back and seeing the small bit of red on his fingers. He runs over to his bathroom, looking in the mirror and seeing the mark of her lips on his jaw, a smile grows on his face.

He sits in his bed with his phone in his hands, checking the time every few seconds. Anxiety builds in him the longer the time goes by, only growing stronger the longer he waits. What if she didn’t make it back? Is she okay? Oh god he should’ve just asked her to stay, what if something hap-his thoughts were interrupted when his phone rings, her contact shining on the screen. Relief fills him as he answers the phone, a large breath leaving him. “Hey I’m sorry it took so long. It usually doesn’t take more than 20 minutes but there was a good amount of traffic in my way.” She says, he can hear her as she exits her car and walk up to her door. He can hear as she unlocks her door, hearing as she walks in. Her flats tap lightly against her hard floor, the sound comforting him. “Hey it’s alright, I’m just glad you made it home safely.” “You don’t have to worry about that, I’m a really, careful driver.” He lays his head down on his pillows, his eyes growing heavy. “Good, thank you for calling me. You really didn’t have to.” “But I wanted to, I knew that you’d be worrying if I made it back home safely.” He chuckles at this. “God you can really read me.” “Well I mean you do let me.” She chuckles, making him smile. “I guess I do.” He says, his voice lowering in volume due to his tiredness. “Why don’t you sleep? I can hear how tired you are.” She says, her voice calming hun further. “Alright, I’ll get some sleep. Thank you again.” “It’s no problem hun, why don’t you call me when you’re up okay? I don’t have classes tomorrow.” “Alright, I’ll call you in the morning, I hope you had a good night tonight.” He says, hearing her chuckle. “I did, have a good night hun, sweet dreams.”

[m-y-fandoms]

Blood on Our Stage - Vampire Nagito Komaeda x Human Female Reader -Part 1 (Slight/Platonic Female Reader x Hajime Hinata)

So, this is an old fic I updated to fit these characters because I want to continue it :)

NEEDED CONTEXT FOR THIS AU: Hajime and Nagito are step brothers, (Y/N)/Reader is a human, Hajime and Nagito are vampires, and Hajime did indeed get into the Main Course at Hope’s Peak, for acting.

The paycheck… It's all about the paycheck...

   You took a deep breath, reassuring yourself for what seemed like the hundredth time that year… or that hour.

Smile, s-smile. Breathe, lean into him. It has to look real, (Y/N). God… it’s a whole new level of crackhead when you stutter to yourself in your thoughts.

 Dissociate. 

What are we having for dinner? How many more steps ‘til that damn egg hatches? If it’s another fucking Diglett I swear I’ll go apeshit. 

You shifted to your right, the most forced of grins creeping onto your cosmetic-plastered face. You let your head fall onto Hajime’s shoulder. Convincing right? Touching is convincing. Random gentle displays of affection are convincing... 

By this time, you were nearly blind from the flash of some fifty or so cameras in your face, anyway, so why not just pretend that the photographers and press were blind as well?

  Why not, why not?

 You pretended in every other aspect of your life.

"Isn't that right, (Y/N)?" Hajime’s voice shook you out of your trance, and you turned your head, letting go of his arm, which you had grabbed out of habit. His sparklingly white teeth - sharper than the average man's - gleamed down at you, and you felt that usual pang of fear run down your spine and chill your bones. Even attached to the gums of the sweetest boy on earth, you’d never get used to the sight.

It's all a show, (Y/N), a game. Pretend. "Fangs for the fans, and all that" 

How long would that farce last until people started to realize?

  What had Hajime said earlier that month? You retreated into yourself, thinking deeply, trying desperately to calm the anxiety that rose with at the sight of his flesh-tearing canines...

   _______________________________________________________________

"I can bare my fangs at interviews, photoshoots… you know, when the paparazzi are around. It’s what my dad wants,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Don't worry about it, (Y/N). Honestly, you freak out over the silliest things sometimes.” He ruffled your hair. “It will look like I'm dedicated to the role, or something like that… whatever. People will love it, trust me."

      ___________________________________________________________

But you never could. How could you? A monster with a secret, stupidly displaying that secret openly to the world? No… trusting meant removing little stones from that carefully built wall, which sub-sequentially meant getting hurt, and not just emotionally. You recited this mantra to yourself almost routinely; something you’d picked up from someone very close to your heart. Isn’t it funny how we steal little bits of personality from those we love most?

You knew Hajime just followed whatever his father commanded, that he’d do anything to feel like he mattered, that people cared. He’d done all this: the acting lessons, depending on daddy’s money, the unless studying and promoting himself, just to get into that stupid school and kickstart his illustrious career.

"Isn't that right, (Y/N)??" Hajime tenderly brought his hand up, stroking your shoulder awkwardly. The clench in his jaw, however, wasn't friendly at all. You couldn’t really blame him, though. He was doing it for your sake, after all. You had to get through this, and he knew he had to pull you through; everything depended on it.

How could this flock of idiots not tell the “chemistry” was forced???

"Uh… o-of course! Yeah!" You smiled, a fake chuckle escaping your lips, and the crowd of reporters and internet journalists roared in front of you. Of course they did… wasn't everything the disciplined and people-pleasing boy beside you said fucking hilarious? You sighed, returning your gaze to the mass of people below you as you and your leading man sat raised on a platform behind a pretentiously high table.

    Just let Hajime handle all the questions, you thought to yourself indifferently. You always did. They rarely directed them at you specifically, anyway. So much for your dream: to stun the world as an independent starlet, a crimson-hot femme fatale. It was always ‘Hinata Hajime’s doe-eyed leading lady!’, ‘Hajime’s little love interest!’, never ‘(Y/N) (L/N)... featuring Hajime Hinata!’ But... you were famous, and with no little chunk of change to boot… you should’ve been thankful… right?

So why weren’t you…?

  Your eyes scanned the faces before you, and you realized that you hadn't… really looked at them until now. Yes, the usual prolific online bloggers and huge theatre junkies were there, and Mr. Hinata of course. He wouldn't miss out on one of his company’s press meetings for the world, especially with his money-making beloved son in the spotlight. He was so anal, how could anything possibly go off without a hitch unless he was there?

You wondered if the girl next to him knew he was a ravenous monster as well, but thought better of it. Of course, she didn't know. You shouldn't have even known. But you did, and it plagued you every day of your life.

  Fuck... you just wanted to go back to your room and overthink in peace. It was embarrassingly uncomfortable to do so in public

Mr. Hinata sat sternly upright, with his polished, slick hair, in his polished, slick shoes and extravagantly tailored navy suit, his secretary at his side, brushing his hand unnoticeably between the chairs. His wife would never care, anyway. To their right sat a rosy-cheeked intern, spunky and full of character. Holding a clipboard between perfectly painted nails, the only thing that spoke louder than her bright smile was her neon miniskirt. She must not have known, either. No human simply knew, and still managed to look that innocent and lively. The PR girls loved press conferences, and each new show only yielded fresh publicity. This most recent show, set to premiere the following night, was a tale of romance: A vampire lord and his human lover: a medieval era period piece. Of course, for this reason, Hajime did nothing to hide his all-too-real fangs. 

You loved a good historical romance, and loved being in one even more. It had always been your goal as a starting actress to take the lead in at least one period play, be it Victorian, colonial, medieval.. but... it had not turned out quite the way you planned...

   A few other members of the Hinata family accompanied their revered head of  the household… or was it head of the clan… coven? Whatever, it was expected. The murderous bloodsuckers always clung to their leader’s side, and could always be found lurking around Hinata’s estate, if they weren’t already crammed up his ass looking for approval.

A flash came from the reporter to the left, directly into your vision, and left you dazed.

 Fuck… you seethed internally. Calm down. Calm down. The paycheck. That's it. This is almost over, anyway. Why did you always find yourself spacing out at the worst possible times? You acknowledged that it was how your body coped with the overwhelming urge to break down, but damn if it wasn’t inconvenient at the minute. Nothing screamed ‘I have something to hide’ like acting shady in front of a hundred people…

You leaned into Hajime again. Sell the relationship. Sell the love.

You exhaled in exhaustion. It wasn’t that you didn’t love Hajime… you did, just, not like this. Never like this. Lying to millions of fans and the press, pretending Hajime was anything other than a brother-like figure to you just to line his father’s pockets, tore you apart more than keeping his immortality a secret. Denying you both a chance at real love for fear of scandal… you were sure that there was no phrase you’d ever grow to hate more than “The Hinata Theatre Company!” Ironic, wasn’t it, that at one point in time, you begged to be here?

You found that scoping out a crowd lowered the anxiety you had about actually being in front of them. It's funny, many people asked how you could possibly be afraid of crowds or public speaking when you were a damn Broadway-level star. Your answer was always the same: your rush of adrenaline and passion for theatre got you through a show, but anywhere else but on that stage, and a crowd turned your mind to jelly. It was different… walking out for a performance tamed the butterflies that flew around inside your stomach.

  Of course, there was always the fact that your boss could tear you apart at a moment’s notice that contributed to the anxiety, but you obviously couldn't share that little bit of information with anyone. It was all so hard to process, that this kind young man beside you could be something so fearsome, that your whole life was a public sham. You’d never forget the day you’d found out… how it changed everything. You shouldn’t have to be afraid of your best friend, you just shouldn’t. But how could you ever truly trust him again?

Your eyes bounced once, twice around the room.

  ...No

   You gasped, breath catching in your throat as your eyes caught on something that caused you to jump slightly in your seat.

"You ok?" Hajime whispered, the crowd going noticeably silent for a moment. Mr. Hinata glared in your direction. A silent warning, reminding you that even one wrong move made his company look bad, and that would not end so well for you. That was the shining aspect of Hajime’s personality, that he was nothing like his father.

"Yeah, y-yeah," you spoke airily, cheeks heating. "I just slipped to the edge of my seat a little, almost fell!" You lied timidly, a small laugh.

They'll eat that shit up. Soft-spoken, innocent, clumsy girls are all the rage! Of course, Hajime picked up on the lie immediately, catching the change in tone, the skipping of your heartbeat. Being an immortal freak had its perks.

The bright-eyed boy beside you patted your arm, the crowd chuckling politely before returning to their bombardment of questions.

Your eyes flew back to the corner of the room, back to the object that had you startled in the first place. You tried to tell yourself you’d imagined it, but there was no mistake,

 It was him...

 Standing there in the entranceway, so dimly lit, he hid in the alcove. There was no mistaking his favorite jacket, the fabric ripped and weathered from use. There was no mistaking the intricate, almost root-like pale green veins which spiraled up his arms, told a story across his milky collarbone, tumbled down his wrists, and made him all the more intimidating. Intoxicating. There was no mistaking that full head of tousled hair, brightly standing out even in the meager lighting in that disregarded corner of the room, messy whisps branching out dangerously; an air of nonchalance and bored irreverence. Smug bastard…

And there was absolutely no mistaking the way those bright eyes illuminated his white skin in contrast, a frightening and ethereal glow shooting off of him in waves. Hajime’s chestnut-brown eyes never mimicked that terrifying iridescence, but then again, Hajime never took his life-sustaining drink from a human host. Your hands began to subconsciously shake. From fear or the itching desire to… you didn’t know, throw your arms around him, touch his cheek just once... ? You never knew with him. He was a wild thing, a beast untamable. But why the hell was he here?

Carelessly he leaned against the door frame. His tongue shot out predatorily, running along his lower lip in one fluid motion. His knuckles raised, brushing against the green of his coat and coming up to scratch the side of his face.

❘ What are you doing here?! ❘ You sent your thoughts out in waves so loud you might as well have been screaming. You knew immediately that he had taken them in, absorbing your mental cursing and inner toil like sun rays. It was a power and privilege only those of his kind who were purebred enjoyed.

He did not answer, but merely tilted his head, the corner of his lip rising in that maddening grin he always threw at you. An impish smirk hiding mischief and chaotic intentions, you were sure.

You knew it would be mere moments ‘til your flawless "boyfriend" beside you noticed his presence as well, and you feared what might become of this night that was supposed to be of celebration. Almost as if on cue, Hajime’s words halted to a stop. That evil smirk only widened, a small snort shaking the intruder’s chest.

"Nagito..." Hajime murmured through clenched teeth, his hand shooting down to grab your wrist. "He's here."

  "I know..." your words shook, just loud enough for any non-human in the room to hear. Now it was time for you to be Hajime’s rock. Nagito's head bobbed, looking down at his old ripped jeans, and you saw Mr. Hinata's eye twitch before you, his vampiric hearing triggered immediately upon hearing your quiet exchange with Hajime.

Mr. Hinata followed your eyes to the back of the room, his fiery glare landing on the face of his eldest and only step-son in the shadows.

Was it too late to run back into the dressing room and never come out?

You could feel the tension in the air, a line of electricity connecting the three vampires like mental twine, ready to break at any moment. It was like watching three animals square off, sizing up their threat on a National Geographic documentary. The other Hinata coven members, all also fierce bloodsuckers in their own right, merely sat forward politely, sensing Nagito's aura but knowing better than to give him the time of day. After all, alerting the press to his presence would certainly not be a wise way to stay on Mr. Hinata’s good side.

  No one outside of the family even knew about the existence of the elder brother. He was an embarrassment, a stain on Mr. Hinata’s designer tie. In the packed room, he looked so out of place, with dark, torn clothes in a sea of try-hard collared shirts and dresses. Sure, everyone who was anyone in the media world had turned up for this interview, and would also return for the opening night the next day, but everyone who was anyone never included Nagito. He made sure of that. He just had to stick out, be different, didn’t he? Even among a bunch of immortal freaks, boy… was he a freak. 

Oh no, mommy remarried some rich man then got herself killed, better act like a little ungrateful little prick. Woe is me, I have super good luck that is sometimes super bad! No one understands me!!!

He sickened you, the way he did his best to destroy what he and Hajime’s family had built, all in the name of his backwards and twisted idea of “hope.” As if he didn't live like a prince because of the Hinatas’ hard work. Don’t get it twisted, you hated Mr. Hinata and would love to see the Hinata empire burn, but this company, the desire to be recognized and worth something, was all that held dear Hajime up. It was his only dream, and he deserved it. Nagito didn’t have a right to tear Mr. Hinata down if he had to wreck Hajime to do it.

     He disgusted you, you’d decided months back, to make it all easier on yourself. Everything he’d done, the trouble he’d caused, the hurt he’d caused so many people. Routinely, you reinforced to yourself that you hated Nagito Komaeda

   ...You were disgusted by the way you… just... couldn’t hate him. It didn’t feel right. Something felt… wrong in hating him.

  Your heart lurched, meeting his eyes again.

Why not? Why not just hate him, (Y/N)? Like everyone else…

Why was it so hard? You were supposed to be with Hajime. And Hajime hated Nagito. Everyone who knew Nagito hated Nagito. But… telling yourself you were anything but infatuated with that dangerous creature… was a lie. You owed everything, good and bad, to that feral, insane man.

Your nerves and the hairs on your arms pricked up like an agitated cat. Why why why? Why would he even do this? He knew what showing up here would start. He was born to start shit, to brew altercation, to cook up conflict. Maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt? Perhaps he finally came to an event to support his darling step-brother, but the way he bore his fangs when his eyes met Hajime’s said otherwise.

❘ Leave. Just Leave. You're just here to antagonize me and I won't let you be a problem. Not today. This is my day… ❘ Hajime spat mentally, and his thoughts burned through your own and, you're sure, Nagito’s.

❘ Aren’t all the days yours, Your Majesty? ❘ Nagito’s thoughts were more severe, yet more playful, taunting, careless, a venomous snarl behind every synapse pulse.

❘ ...Leave. ❘ Hajime pulsed back in warning.

❘ ....Or what? ❘ Nagito’s own ominous threat reverberated through your cranium. You pressed a hand to your temple, an angry, stinging sensation pulsating through your head. Having a vampire read one’s mind was uncomfortable enough: feeling the slight probing and perhaps needing an aspirin after, but being the third line in a purebred pissing match… it was a call you desperately wanted to hang up on. But.. humans didn’t naturally hear a vampire’s thoughts on accident. No, you were hearing this conversation because you were meant to, someone wanted you to. You had no powers of your own, but Nagito kept you trapped in this nonverbal battle, strung up betwixt two immortal minds. You brought the back of your free hand up to your nose, wiping away a stripe of red vitality that began to flow from both nostrils. The panging inside, the angry shouting in your mind only got louder.

[gunshou]

This is probably a bad idea, but...

So @luna-rainbow has been posting quite a bit about the portrayal of racism in TFATWS and how it's difficult for non-Americans to understand why Sam didn't want the shield and why he didn't just explain his thinking to Bucky. I replied that I wanted to try and tackle that question, so here we go.

BIG DISCLAIMER: I am a white, middle-aged, cis woman living in the northeastern USA, so I am really in no way the proper spokesperson for this topic. I'm not going to put forth my views as truth, but instead try to explain why I think Sam was so ambivalent and why Bucky just didn't get it (and probably still doesn't even if the writers gave him a small epiphany in the penultimate episode).

Everyone knows that the US was built on the bleeding backs of Black slaves. There is no rational way to dispute this disgusting fact, but the white people who have been in power in this country since forever have done such a good job of normalizing and minimizing the ramifications of that fact that many Americans just go through their lives and never, ever, consider it. Schools teach history, but it's often sanitized and presented in a very "Oops, our bad, sorry y'all" manner that makes young students feel like it was Very Very Long Ago and Over Now. I'm a high school teacher (of literature, not history, but they're intertwined) in a school where I know my colleagues in the Hx Dept are teaching racism as a living, breathing, hideously present concept, and I still have kids tell me every day that "America isn't like that now" as if examples of racial bias and systemic oppression aren't all around them.

In my mostly white district, the few Black kids don't speak up in these discussions, and lord, I do not blame them one bit. For one, they are tired. Tired of being oppressed, tired of talking about it, tired of trying to make other people see their lives and their struggles. Second, no one wants to be the Poster Child and have to bear the ignorance and intrusive interest of their peers. I imagine Sam feels similarly, and that's why he just never gets into it with Bucky. Sam is an optimistic and positive-thinking guy, and probably wants to talk about a million other topics before he wants to educate a 106-year-old white dude about the Black American Experience, and that's his damn right, good for him.

Said 106-year-old, by the way, has literally no concept of what being Black in America means. Luna-rainbow likened him to an immigrant in his own country, and there's some merit to that, especially considering the bulk of his conditioning as the Winter Soldier was at the hands of our Cold War enemies who were invested in making Bucky see America as an enemy. But mostly, the problem is that Bucky was asleep or absent from normal life during one of the most racially tumultuous times of our history. Now, the man lived in NYC, one of the most diverse cities in the USA, and seems relatively chill for having grown up in Ye Olden Times. But he likely hasn't studied the Civil Rights Movement, and how the Whites In Charge panic-reacted to the idea of other people having basic human rights with a coordinated and systemic effort to stop that shit in its tracks while appearing to bow to the social zeitgeist. Jim Crow, Confederate statutes, voter oppression, gerrymandering, redlining -- all the things that the United States Government did (and still does) to keep those BIPOC in their proper place and whites in power -- are often big news to modern people, so of course Bucky wouldn't get it.

He wouldn't intrinsically understand that The Shield represents a government that did its GD best to keep Black people poor, ignorant, and powerless while at the same time pretending to advance them and congratulating itself on how well it tied justice into knots and r*ped that blindfolded bitch holding the scales. He wouldn't know that Sam struggles with how to best embody his hope for the country he loves while also acknowledging that his country doesn't really love him all that much. How conflicted he must be as a veteran who fights for freedom while knowing he's not free to be treated with the dignity and respect everyone deserves. That Shield is government property, Sam is told many times, and to take it up means being the face and mouthpiece of a government that does not look, act, or experience life the way he does. A government that doesn't want him to gain power and will do basically anything to keep him down while all the while denying that they're doing any such thing. Captain America may visibly punch out Nazis, but is he punching out Karens? Or racist cops? Or racist teachers? "A complicated legacy," indeed.

So yeah, there's no way Bucky could know why Sam refused the shield and Bucky took it personally, as a rejection of Steve Rogers himself. And maybe to explain that would have forced Bucky to confront that while he is still Steve's Best Sidekick(TM), Steve abandoned him to this crazy future of alien invasions and divisive politics and tiger selfies and Bucky really just cannot deal. So he just gets pissy about it.

And Sam, for his part, was not going to unpack 70 years of American history and racism because that shit is tiring, especially when he's literally living in it right the f now. So he gets rightfully pissy about Bucky's inability to let it go.

And TFATWS writers go traipsing into the sunset congratulating themselves on the buddy cop story they pounded out that has all the buzzwords and the right tone for our post(?)-BLM times without ever once delving as deep into the story as the topic deserves. And people are confused and disappointed and don't really know why. But the truth is that 200+ years of history and oppression are not easily condensed into a 6-hour superhero TV show, and maybe the writers should have given some damn thought to how much they could realistically convey with sophistication and sensitivity instead of trying to have it all. Because we deserved better, not just as fans, but as critical viewers. (On the other hand, hooray for some people having these discussions instead of just saying BuT it'S JuST FiCTioN LiGhTen UP. Because it is never "just fiction," it is a reflection of our lives and has weight as such.)

Thanks for coming to my long-winded TED Talk, please don't send me hate mail. I'm already having a panic attack at having posted this.

[allthefilmsiveseenforfree]

Godzilla vs. Kong

From the first rumble in the seats in the Dolby theater, I was so glad I chose to see this movie on the big screen. At times it felt like I was on one of those “4-D” roller coasters where the seats rumble and they spray water on your or pipe smells into the audience. That’s how close I was to the action! As at least a casual fan of the previous entries in the Monsterverse, I was looking forward to Godzilla vs Kong and my goodness, those medium expectations sure were met. How medium was it? Well...

I would like the science in this movie to win Best Comedy or Musical in next year’s Golden Globes. This is probably the hardest I’ve laughed in a theater in over a year (obviously there are other reasons for that, but the sentiment still stands). This movie was nonsensical, loud, shiny, dumb fun and I had a great fucking time watching it. Oh, you probably want a plot summary - I’m just gonna refer you to the title of the film. That about covers all you need to know.

Some thoughts:

“Somewhere on Skull Island” - whaaaaat is with this title card? It’s a tiny island. How many possible locations could there possibly be for a giant fuck-off ape to be taking his nap?

I know we’re not here for any semblance of plot but boy, they really sprained something trying to lift these clunky paragraphs of exposition into anything resembling what actual humans would say.

These opening credits are one of the funniest sequences I’ve seen in ages.

My main man Brian Tyree Henry! I had no idea he was in this (frankly I knew virtually nothing about this movie because what do you even need to know about a movie with the title Godzilla vs. Kong). He’s playing a completely different vibe than I’ve ever seen him play - the comedic relief and a mile-a-minute vaguely conspiracy theorist podcast host who is obsessed with Sir Zilla and the other Titans. I really enjoyed seeing this other side of him!

Absolutely terrible waste of Kyle Chandler, who was probably paid more than my yearly salary for 60 seconds of Protective and Frazzled Dad perfection.

One of the highlights of the film is the performance of young actress Kaylee Hottle as Jia. Jia is Deaf, and so is Kaylee in real life, and I’m always here for more Deaf representation onscreen! And her friendship with Kong is one of the few things in the movie that elicits any genuine emotion of any kind. When he booped her I literally said “Aw!” out loud.

The visuals of the hollow Earth are very cool and remind me of those space age desktop backgrounds that most of the guys I know who built their own PCs and spent a lot of time on Tor.com would have had.

Even the most ridiculous films like this one will sometimes include little bits of worldbuilding that are thoughtful and have fascinating implications. For example, the “Titan Shelters” in Hong Kong - who pays for those? The government? Do rich people have reinforced private Titan Shelters while poor folks have to rely on the public ones, which are likely overcrowded and possibly don’t have enough resources? (I think we all know the answer to that).

I am very much enjoying all the neon in the Hong Kong fight, and how much more visually interesting it makes two giant blobs slamming their blob bodies against each other while causing a staggering amount of property damage.

Finally a realistic “I can crack the password!” scene!

Did I Cry? Ok, a teeny tiny bit, about Kong and Jia’s friendship.

Times I laughed LOUDLY in the theater: when Mr. Zilla, who can literally shoot lightning out of his damn mouth just straight up punches Kong in the face. When Kong gets attacked by all those lizard things in the hollow Earth and just uses one motherfucker to slap another motherfucker. When they use an anti-gravity machine (whatever that actually means) as a defibrillator for an ape that is sometimes as big as a skyscraper and other times as big as a mountain.

And now a series of questions:

Why is this high school class just watching the news in the middle of the day? The G-Z has attacked cities at least 3 other times in this universe that we know of. Like, this isn’t their 9/11, this is a thing that just regularly happens.

You decided it was a good idea to transport Kong over the ocean...where Big Daddy G hangs out all the time? Like...that’s where he lives, you guys. You’re basically trying to sneak Kong over the roof of Godzilla’s house and hoping he doesn’t notice.

OH and you had a Kong-sized net and a team of Kong transport helicopters ready the WHOLE TIME? But you still chose “sneaking over Godzilla’s house” as your first plan of action????

How long can Kong hold his breath? He goes underwater for some long ass periods.

In fact, what are the details of Kong’s physiology in general? How tall is he? Because at one point in his fight with The GZA, he’s standing on the floor of the Tasman Sea, no big deal - except the Tasman Sea has a depth of roughly 18,000 feet. And Kong’s just chilling out in the water at waist level? But he’s also shorter than the skyscrapers in Hong Kong? I choose to believe he can grow and shrink at will because that makes more sense than the sloppy joe approach to his biology the screenwriters are using.

I like Millie Bobby Brown as much as the next guy, but does it bother anyone else that she always sounds congested? Is that a consequence of her doing her American accent? It’s incredibly distracting.

Oh, this entire scene is set in Antarctica but no one is wearing hats or gloves? Sure sure sure.

And no one is having any problems breathing the air in the middle of the fucking earth? No one thought to check that the atmosphere was breathable before everyone takes off their helmets? No noxious fumes to worry about in the center of a planet that produces magma and shit?

You’re taking your child to the literal center of the earth? Is this not the ONE TIME you think you might need a babysitter?

The ship that can *checks notes* withstand the forces present during an entire reversal of gravity is crushed by Kong’s fist like it’s a tube of toothpaste?

Even though the Earth is hollow, I’m assuming the distance to reach the core is still about the same, so Godzilla’s lighting can 1) act as a drill to - I cannot reiterate this strongly enough - the CENTER OF THE FUCKING EARTH and 2) Godzilla and Kong can yell at each other for 3,958 miles (give or take) and still hear each other? Do they have superhearing? Is this something we’re studying or are we content to just have them Hulk smash all of that incredibly important evolutionary biology to bits while everyone stands around?

Because this is a “vs” movie, of course there is no clear-cut “winner” at the end. Instead the two parties leave each other with a grudging respect formed, an uneasy truce in place. But I’m obsessed with the way this final scene plays out, as though Godzilla is a bitter ex walking away from Kong after their doomed relationship has run its course. The lighting, the soft music, the absolute melodrama of this giant lizard slinking slowly back into the sea. Godzilla is giving the gays everything they want in 2k21 and I am here for it. Here’s hoping the next entry in the franchise has Kong hooking up with Rodan to make G jealous and they all have a messy public fight over brunch, Real Housewives style.

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

[v3nusaphr0d1t3]

i’m so tasty and the price is right (shigadabi)

crossposted on ao3: <3 rating: explicit content warning: shameless porn, name-calling, both feminine & masculine terms used for ftm genitals, uhhhh i think thats it, hit me if i’m wrong tomura has an onlyfans and dabi helps him out for the viewers

-

tomura shigaraki, the anxiety-riddled, anger-filled, screaming child prodigy turned drop-out streamer that dabi was currently rooming with, had an onlyfans. dabi had only found this out through coincidence one night when he, for the first time, actually grabbed the mail on his way up. tomura had a bunch of perverted letters sent in from fans, all knowing him by his streamer name ‘decay’. they called him by his given name in the letters, something that shocked dabi and made it even funnier to read through.

his first instinct was to charge into tomura’s room to question him on it. and dabi wasn’t really a thinking man, so that’s what he did. he charged in with the letters in his hand, interrupting tomura’s stream as he scrambled to mute himself. 

“what the fuck do you want, dabi?” his raspy voice stuck in a permanent whine. it was honestly kinda cute sometimes. it was very easy to antagonize the poor boy, so dabi did it as often as he could get away with before tomura started threatening him. and not that dabi was scared of tomura— he could easily beat his ass at this point in time, all made up of scrawny limbs and long-term malnourishment. the only times he ate a real actual meal were when dabi reminded him and/or provided him with food. it put another pang of worry in dabi’s chest that he chose, again, to ignore.

tomura’s eyes scanned dabi, falling onto the papers in his hands with a confused expression.

“what?” tomura repeated, “what’s that shit?”

dabi’s grin was maniacal. 

“nothing, nothing,” dabi moved them behind his back, “only your creepy fan letters. from your fans.” there was a beat of silence before tomura’s face heated up and he stomped over, trying his hardest to grab at the letters dabi held.

“dude, why didn’t you tell me you were a pornstar? that’s like—” his laughing was cut off with a cough as he held the papers above their heads, shaking them to taunt tomura even more. tomura eventually jumped and snatched them out of dabi’s hands, shoving them in his trash can and going to sit back in his chair. he paused his stream as dabi caught his breath.

tomura took a deep (slightly crackly) breath, and started a practiced monologue, “i’m not a pornstar, i just hold… extra liveshows later on for more cash because streaming doesn’t exactly pay the best and for certain legal reasons i can’t really get a good job. so i basically just…” he sighed and winced a bit, “i record myself jacking off?” his sentence ended in more of an uncertain question than a statement, almost as if he was scared. “i don’t do it when you’re home, or at least i try not to, and i don’t bug you with it, so i don’t see why it would matter—” 

his rambling was cut off as tomura looked up to see dabi suddenly being a lot closer than he remembered.

“that’s fuckin’ hot, no apologies needed.” dabi’s voice was lower than usual, setting tomura’s face even further on fire, lighting up red as he covered his face.

“what the hell, freakshow, you can’t just say shit like that—” tomura said, muffled through his hands.

“but i can, and i will. you know i’m a pretty honest man, creep.” dabi chuckled. “now are you gonna let me fuck you up on your little stream or what?” he leaned down to be level with tomura who was still sat in his chair. 

there was only silence from tomura’s end.

“c’mon, won’t another dude be good for business? i promise i’ll take good care of you.” dabi got even closer with these words, trapping tomura in with his hands on the elbow rests, mouthing filthy promises in his ear.

“okay. we can take turns blowin’ each other.” tomura grumbled, pushing at dabi’s shoulders to move him from his position over him. “but i gotta finish off this stream first, i’ll come get you when it’s time. get cleaned up and shit, i won’t suck you off if you’re gross.” tomura didn’t look him in the eyes, putting his headphones back on and officially ending the conversation as he got back to whatever murder game he was playing with an apology for being gone.

dabi stalked off to the bathroom, burying his intense excitement and arousal deep in his gut and turning on the shower. he got pretty much everything, cleaner than he had been in weeks as a gross dude with an illegal gig barely classified as a job. he always did wonder how tomura was able to pay so much of the bills, but he didn’t want to bring it up and sound bitchy. he was half hard just from the thought, tomura always being the grumpy catch he was always afraid to go for, for fear that he would get kicked out of the apartment the morning after or something along those lines.

the stunt he had just pulled was exhilarating. he thought about the flush he had seen on tomura’s face as he stepped out of the shower. he was still at half mast as he brushed his teeth and put on deodorant (stealing tomuras’), towel wrapped around his waist. dabi had always thought himself to be a kind of a catch, positively covered in tattoos and piercings and even some cosmetic staples. his brother said he was addicted to body mods, bu he chose to ignore those words in favor of finding something else to do to or with his body. 

he wondered what he should wear. he didn’t want to struggle with it too much, just going for what he had on before the shower. he shook his hair out like a dog, water slightly darkened from the hair dye (he had just redyed it a couple days ago and he never truly had the care to wash it all the way out).

and when he was done with all that, he went into his room and collapsed on his bed facedown. there he stayed for a few moments as he tried to calm himself down, before just turned to his bong on the side table for some manual chill. he lit up a few times, only enough to make his head swim the tiniest bit, and went to play a few shitty games on his phone.

apparently he had been playing a little longer than he thought, already gone through a cigarette and another couple rips before tomura knocked on his door.

“ready to start up the live stream, get your ass in here if you still want in on it.” he heard through the door, followed by tomura’s footsteps leading off into his bedroom.

dabi, of course, immediately followed, hopping up and throwing his door open, excitedly shimmying his way up to tomura’s doorway. 

man

he was. he was wearing black thigh-highs, held up by a garter that he could barely see the beginnings of over a sweatshirt that was giant on his small, skinny frame. dabi’s sweatshirt.

“did—” dabi was damn near short of breath at the sigh ton display in front of him, “did you get that from my room?” 

“no, i got it from the living room. now let me get the camera on and the stream rolling before you fuck me up.” tomura chuckled softly, something that he didn’t do often. dab’s heart skipped a beat, and he pointedly chose to ignore it.

“you look fuckin’ hot, baby.” he murmured, eyes glued to the sligh bit of thigh on display over the top of the sock and before the sweatshirt.

“baby? what happened to creep?” tomura pressed record, laptop set up next to the camera so that they could see themselves and the chat, not giving dabi a chance to respond. tomura waited a few moments, before addressing the current pileup.

“hey everyone. i have a guest tonight, my roommate and the dude who eats all my damn cereal—” tomura paused and turned back to look at dabi who was still out of camera, “do you want your identity to be anonymous? ‘n’ do you wanna show your face?” 

dabi had a moment of pause, before shrugging. “nah, i don’t really have any shame, you’re not really anything to hide.” dabi once again shamelessly looked tomura up and down, earning an eyeroll and the beginnings of… was that a smile?

tomura turned back to the camera. “this is dabi, my roommate, and the dude who’s gonna eat me out on stream.” tomura said with no pause, and no stutter or hesitation. this was a performance, surely. it was so different from the blushing and hiding man who was avoiding his eyes a couple hours ago. tomura cupped his hand around the side of his mouth, mimicking a stage whisper. “this’ll be the first time with him, so you get our genuine reactions for free.” tomura chucked gently, watching the chat blow up at the premise of some genuine roommate porn.

tomura turned back to dabi, moving to pull him into frame and pushing him to sit on tomura’s bed.

“well, here goes nothing,” tomura murmured to himself, climbing into dabi’s lap and pulling him into a kiss. he immediately heard the dinging of tip notifications off to his side, and he knew his chat was probably going wild. dabi’s hands wandered, up tomura’s thighs that were positioned over his hips, and over the other mans own hips, back down to his thigh-highs. he pulled at them, snapping it against tomura’s thigh, earning a gasp that allotted enough room for dabi to stick his tongue in the others mouth. tomura’s own arms were slung over dabi’s shoulders coming up to run his hands through dabi’s undercut. tomura ground down against dabi’s half-hard cock, trying to work him up further. 

eventually their kiss broke for air and dabi stared into the camera with a knowing grin as he ground his hips upwards. tomura gasped loudly, sensitivity intensified by the hormones he had been taking for a while now. dabi moved to kiss down the white-haired boy’s throat, leaving little nips that had tomura giving breathy whines. he could tell some were played up for the camera, but he didn’t mind at all. he was rock hard in his jeans now, and he could feel the slickness that tomura had built up— soaking through his panties. which, by the way— now that dabi could see them, he was obsessed. they were bright blue and lacey, gorgeous against the pale flush of tomura’s scarred thighs. they hugged his hips nicely and made dabi want to rip them apart. 

tomura gently pushed him away from his neck, rolling his hips against dabi as he leaned back slightly to look at the camera. “chat, who should go first? who do you wanna see cum first?” his words were syrupy and seductive as their hips worked in tandem. someone donated with a fairly large amount, spouting something about wanting to see the pretty boy choke on cock.

and who were they to deny the nice donator?

tomura turned back to dabi, running a hand down the man’s chest, grabbing at the end of his shirt. dabi got the hint and removed his shirt, hearing the chat pop off for a moment.  “your lucky day, freakshow. fuck me up.” tomura whispered and he hopped off dabi’s lap, spreading dabi’s legs manually and making himself comfortable between them.

“feel free to grab the camera to get that angle, yknow?” tomura looked up at him as he laid his cheek on dabi’s thigh, uncomfortable close to the bulge in dabi’s pants.

dabi leaned back on his hands, letting tomura unbutton his pants and shimmy his boxers down enough to pull his cock out. tomura had a moment of shock at the sight of it, long and thick with about 5 pieces of fuckin’ metal stuck into it. 

when his shock wore off, he decided a quip would be appropriate. “y’know i always did wonder if it continued on down—” tomura gestured to all of his various facial and body piercings, finally licking a stripe up his length and taking dabi by surprise, making him gasp. tomura was surprisingly good at this, dabi had thought him a lame little virgin before he found out about the whole onlyfans thing. but no, tomura had apparently had quite a bit of practice, shown off by the rapid rate at which he was able to adjust to the intrusion of dabi’s cock, sinking down and feeling the metal rods on the underside grind one by one against his tongue. it was heaven, and dabi reached one hand into tomura’s hair for support.

this led tomura to pull off, only to say the words, “pull on it,” before sinking his hot mouth back down onto dabi’s dick. and so dabi did what he was told, taking the hair in his hands and pulling, earning a genuine moan from tomura that reverberated its way down his cock. the hottest thing was that tomura was making him feel this good with only his mouth. his hands were currently on dabi’s thighs, moving up to his hips as if to insinuate something. dabi pulled him back by his hair. tomura whined, which was the hottest thing ever and looked up at dabi with a wanting— no, expecting stare. 

“use your words, babydoll.” he muttered to tomura, watching his face heat up, much more like his bashful self before the camera turned on. the audience was eating it up, so used to his unphased confidence and sheer no-fucks-given attitude, that seeing this form of subby shigaraki was like dessert for them.

“use me, dabi,” tomura muttered, eyes focused on the ground as he shuffled on his knees.

“what was that? i couldn’t hear you, speak up.” dabi teased and used his hand that was in tomura’s hair to slip down and hook his finger under his chin, forcing him to look up at dabi.

tomura’s eyes glazed over for a second at the stern look that dabi was giving him, before blinking harshly and shaking his head a bit, as if to clear his mind.

“fuck my throat, dabi. use me.” his voice was clear and without any shyness now, an almost grin spreading across his cheeks. though his inner submission didn’t go unseen, as the look in his eye and the redness of his face and the way he arched his back even now, was more honest than any words he could say. 

“if you say so, baby. tap me if you want off.” dabi moved his hand back to tomura’s hair, gripping it tight and using it to line himself up with tomura’s lips.

“open up. you’re gonna be so good at this, i can just tell.” dabi growled out. tomura followed directions, opening his mouth and sticking his tongue out to show up, dabi sliding his cock to the back of the other man’s throat. he stopped for a moment to let tomura adjust, but tomura took that to his advantage, meeting dabi’s eyes and sucking hard.

“jesus fuck, baby—” dabi panted, starting up a smooth rhythm with his hips, both hands now in tomura’s hair to practically use him like a toy. a human fleshlight.

“god, tomura, you whore— how’dya get so good at this? d’ya— d’ya practice?” dabi’s hips sped up as tomura moaned deep in his throat, vibrating against his cock. the words were turning tomura’s poor brain into jello. the chat was going wild, donations at an all time high as they watched their favorite creator get used like a toy. 

dabi felt the tension building up in his gut. a few more moments of this and he would be done for. he reached down with one of the hands to wrap around tomura’s throat, so that he couldn’t even semi-breathe through his nose. he felt tomura gag, throat clamping down on his cock. tomura had yet to tap him, so he continued with his wild ministrations, letting go of tomura and pulling his dick out until just the tip rested on tomura’s tongue as he worked himself off the final edge and came, coating tomura’s lips and tongue.

“don’t swallow yet.” dabi’s tone was winded yet still authoritative. “show your audience baby, you did amazing. show them how good of a slut you are.” dabi grabbed tomura’s chin and manually turned the boy’s head to the camera, watching with hungry eyes as he showed off the spend on his tongue. 

“okay, now swallow.” dabi ordered, watching as tomura did it easily. dabi knew at that instant that he had sent tomura into a momentary headspace of sorts. he wanted to treat the boy after using him so roughly, so he helped him up and out of the sweatshirt, splayed out on the bed, hair spread out around his head like a halo. he looked like a proper angel as the blurriness finally worked its way out of those eyes and the real tomura came back on line.

“jesus christ, dabi.” tomura grumbled. his pale face was on fire. dabi thought that was the hottest thing he had ever experienced. 

dabi was lowering himself onto his knees, pulling tomura’s hips to hang off the bed, spreading them so that he could lay lovebites along his inner thighs. it was almost agonizing with how long he carried it out, working numerous dark purple hickeys onto his thighs, as if to claim, and to show off. he knew that if tomura did a show in the next few days, they would be visible, and that made him hot under the collar.

“god, freakshow, get on with it!” tomura whined, trying to arch up onto something, but failing as a result of dabi’s iron grip on his thighs. 

“ah, ah ah— what do we say when we want something, babydoll?” dabi’s low voice made goosebumps rise up on tomura’s skin, and the poor boy nearly gave in and started begging right there. dabi stopped pressing kisses to tomura’s thighs, sitting back holding tomura’s legs apart, waiting on his reply.

“i need an answer, creep.” the familiar nickname from the man between his legs made it more… intimate. tomura swallowed his pride.

“please— please dabi, please suck me off, i need it—” he was rewarded with dabi ripping his panties off, exposing his nether regions to the open air. tomura whined at the cold, feeling it against his wet cunt. but soon the feeling of cold air was replaced with a soft, excellent warm suction on his dick, one of dabi’s hands reaching up to run two fingers along his slit. 

it made tomura nearly scream, instead moving one of his hands to cover his mouth. dabi instantly let up on the attention, reaching up to move tomura’s hand. “you gotta put on a show tomura, remember that.” dabi chuckled before he went back to work, moving his lips down to run his tongue against tomura’s hole. tomura was arching his back and more or less grinding against dabi’s face as he moaned loudly. dabi knew his way around eating out, so it wouldn’t be long for the other man, who had already been so wound up for so long. dabi went back to sucking on his clit and he moved his two fingers to enter, making an awful noise when they did. tomura’s wetness rolled down dabi’s wrist and before long, tomura’s legs were shaking as dabi brought him to the edge. 

now, dabi was a little shit by nature. so he doubled, even tripled his efforts in speed and pressure, rocketing tomura over the edge and working his fingers in and out at such a speed that had tomura writhing against the sheets in oversensitivity. 

and dabi kept going. he was on a mission, and soon enough, his efforts were rewarded when tomura soaked the sheets and dabi’s arm and lower face. dabi worked him through it, milking him of every drop, before he finally let up. tomura lay there practically braindead for a bit, dabi even going so far as to wave at the camera as he stroked tomura’s thighs, waiting for him to be coherent enough for dabi to leave for a second to get a towel. 

once he had come back to the land of the living, tomura ended the stream with a quick thank you to the donators and visitors, while dabi was up getting a towel, and tomura had caught his breath by the time dabi was back with towels and water. dabi wiped his face, arms and upper torso off, and tomura wiped his junk down, throwing the towel somewhere on the floor. 

“my junk hurts, you asshole. god— why are you so good at that?” were the first words out fo tomura’s mouth, eliciting a loud laugh from dabi as he opened the window and pulled out a cigarette.

“get me one too, freakshow. i need it after that. my dono’s are through the fuckin’ roof though, so thanks for our rent.” he spoke quietly against the sounds of the city as dabi lit his cigarette and tossed one and his lighter to tomura.

dabi only gave him a devilish smirk.

“you gonna let me do that again?”

[auro-ora]

Friend or Foe

Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 2,144

Summary: what happens when two enemies are stuck in quarantine together?

Warnings: enemies to friends, language, angst, quarantine problems, arguments. 

Notes: @jobean12-blog​ here we are babes, thank you for wanting to read this and sorry if this sucks. :c I haven’t written in over 3 years <3

There was no doubt about it that Bucky Barnes, your roommate, your enemy, your rival, your whatever else you wanted to label him as, was officially driving you to the point of insanity. It didn’t help that you were quarantined with the man in question since the beginning of March, three months. Three months of being locked in your spacious two-bedroom Brooklyn apartment with him. Neither of you were free to leave, neither of you were allowed to go to work, the compound was out of the question, your family lived in a different state, you had no choice but to stay here under this roof with him.

Some days, you believed he was doing most of his antics on purpose, such as leaving his dirty dishes in the sink for you to clean, leaving his dirty laundry on the floor in your shared bathroom, cooking his own food and leaving you to make your own food, playing his music too loudly, only one of you were allowed to go grocery shopping and he often went, forgetting to pick you things up even if you did ask him nicely. It was your worst nightmare and it couldn’t have happened at a worse time when the weather was starting to get warm, the heat causing more arguments between the two of you, which often ended with him screaming at you.

It wasn’t funny anymore, at first you would probably admit you loved to piss him off on purpose, but as the months passed, it was becoming upsetting. You wondered what you did at the beginning to make him dislike you so much, he was talkative when you first moved in, a steady foundation for a friendship but then it went downhill after day 5. Bucky wasn’t a man you could talk to, he wouldn’t listen and he would often ignore you and pretend you didn’t exist, and it was much easier for him to do that when he brought other girls home for the night. But you? Bucky made the rule when you first moved in that no other men were allowed in this apartment, which at the time you agreed to because it was his apartment and you were grateful to have found a room in Brooklyn.

You overheard him say to a friend just the other week how he wished some girl named Natasha was living here, which made you upset and since then, you have tried to avoid him as best as you could. You would use the shower when he was in his room listening to music, you would cook when he was in the shower and then you would sneak back to your room. It was like two strangers sharing a space, and you were sure roommates weren't supposed to act this way. You did try to find another apartment, but unknown to you at the time Bucky was the one sabotaging everything by contacting the person advertising the apartment and falsely warning them of your partying habits, which resulted in your viewings being canceled at the last minute. They never told you the reason why, you assumed they had found someone better suited, financially. Was Bucky proud of his actions? No, he wasn’t, but he didn’t want you to leave, he didn’t want to go through the hell of replacing you with someone else who he might really hate next time.

Today would be a good day, you were almost sure of it. The light from the sun created pretty patterns on your wall, you pulled yourself up from your bed and walked out into the living room, scoffing by the sight of your roommate sprawled across the couch with his arms spread out on the back of it. You mumbled a good morning, he ignored you as usual. You rolled your eyes and walked into the bathroom, making sure to slam the door a little harder than necessary.

“Stop slamming the fuckin’ doors!” he yelled from his spot. You could feel the anger building up inside of you. The frustration from having a complicated roommate and no means of fixing the already broken relationship. You peeled your pajamas off your body and turned the water on the shower to a comfortable temperature, pulling your hair tie off, your hair falling loosely over your shoulders. You step into the shower and sigh, making the most of your time here because this is the only time you get peace and quiet from Bucky. You lather up your loofah with your favorite shower gel and wash every inch of your body, at least twice. Then working on removing your body hair and finally, shampoo and a deep condition. Meanwhile on the couch, Bucky was scowling towards the bathroom door, the steam started to appear from under the door. He knew you were taking your sweet fucking time on purpose to avoid him, but 40 minutes to wash yourself? No, he was not having that. He stood quickly and walked to the bathroom door, surprised to find it unlocked. He saw your form behind the shower curtain, and swiftly yanked it to one side where you screeched, using your hands to cover your private parts.

“BUCKY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?” you yelled at him, but the jerk just stood there, his eyes trailing and you wanted to smack the smug grin off his stupid face. 

“Thought you drowned in ‘ere or something. What’s taking you so fuckin’ long to wash your damn body?” 

“GET! OUT!” you threw the soapy loofah at him which he easily batted away. 

“Hurry the fuck up!” Bucky spat.

Fearing Bucky would return sooner than later, you hurriedly washed the conditioner out of your hair and stepped out of the shower, wrapping the white fluffy towel securely around your body and stepping out into the living room once again. This time your pain-in-the-ass roommate was busy making himself breakfast. Your room was warm from the heat of the sun and you sat on the edge of your bed, staring longingly into the mirror opposite you. The towel pooled around your waist, you sighed and walked to your closet for some clothes, putting them on quickly just in case Bucky decided to walk in once again. You towel dried your hair, putting it up into a messy bun. You went back to the kitchen, this time to prepare some breakfast for yourself, only to find Bucky had left you no eggs or bacon and the bread was gone.

“You ate all the eggs?” you rubbed your temples, this couldn’t be happening. It was supposed to be a good day and it was already going to shit.

“I did.” came his nonchalant reply. “There’s no milk either.”

“Okay.” you sighed knowing he wasn’t going to be helpful. “Can I borrow a face mask and some latex gloves please?” you rubbed your temples with your fingertips and watched as your roommate leaned back against the counter and folded his arms across his wide broad chest. 

“No.” he deadpanned, his tone and eyes were stone cold.

“I said please!” now your eyes were filling up with tears, and you were completely helpless, unable to go out to buy your food with protection, because if you went out without a mask and gloves, you risk catching the virus. 

Bucky steps in front of you, his large frame towering over you forcing you to crane your neck upwards. His breath fanning across your face as he spoke.

“Make me a list of items you need and I’ll go and get it.”

“Why? Each time I’ve asked in the past, you’ve always refused!” you shouted a little louder than you intended.

“Y/n, come on. Don’t be an asshole and make this difficult. Just write the fuckin’ list so I can go!”

“Not when you speak to me like that. Get out of my way, I’ll go my damn self!” you attempted to shove him but he didn’t even budge.

“You’re not goin’ out there, it’s too dangerous.” 

“I don’t know why you even care!” you yelled. Weeks of built-up anger and frustration all coming out.

“Because I care about you!” Bucky yelled back. And then there was silence, neither of you spoke a word, just staring and blinking at each other. He cared about you? Since when? Since when does ignoring someone, yelling at them and picking arguments count as caring about someone? 

“No you don’t.” a single tear rolled down your cheek, you nibbled on your lip, mulling over his words in your mind like a loop.

“I do, y/n. I was just scared… when you first moved in, I didn’t even think you’d like me as a friend, then I saw the way you looked at me like you were trying to figure me out and I panicked. I’m sorry.”

“All I wanted was to be your friend Bucky. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“I know and I’m so sorry for everything I ever did and said to you, I’m an idiot and it wasn’t my intention to drag it out for as long as I did.”

“You really hurt me. All those times you screamed at me and made me feel like I was the problem, that you hated having me here and you made me feel like if I suddenly died, you’d throw a party!” you attempted to shove him again, but he stepped closer instead grabbing your wrist and pulling you into his chest.

“Don’t you EVER say that. I’d be lost without you honestly, because you’re so argumentative and you amuse me.” his heart thumped against your ear and you didn’t actually understand what was happening. One second you thought you two hated each other which turned out not to be true, you learned Bucky did care about you. You pulled back after a while, wiping your wet cheeks with your palms and a wet chuckle came out.

“I never wanted you to see me cry.” you admitted through some deep breaths.

“You’re still pretty. I really hope we can start again from the beginning, though I don’t expect you to forgive me right away.” he smiled sheepishly.

“It’ll take some time, you have been an asshole.”

“Alright, don’t sugarcoat it.” he teased

“No but seriously, we both have been pretty stupid, so yeah. During this quarantine, let’s work on a friendship.”

Later that day, Bucky kept his word and did your grocery shopping, picking up everything that was on your list and more. He bought some snacks and chips in hopes you’ll agree to watch a movie with him later, which you did. The pizza was taken out of the oven and the chilled beers were on the coffee table waiting to be cherished. You contemplated on lighting some candles, but didn’t want to give Bucky the wrong impression since you weren’t interested in a relationship (at this time). You went with the other options and switched the lights off entirely, the only light was from the TV screen. Bucky chose a movie, an action he had found on Netflix and the two of you settled into the couch. The pizza was eaten, the beers were gone and you were halfway through the movie when a loud knock sounded on the front door. 

“Oh, I’ll get it.” Bucky said squeezing your thigh as he stood up. You paused the movie and placed your hands under your thighs. You heard a harsh laugh boom through the apartment and you cringed. 

“Nat! What are you doing here?” Bucky joined in on the laughing as he invited her in. You narrowed your eyes, remembering no visitors were allowed in people’s households so why was she here?

“I came to see you. Couldn’t wait to see my man any longer!” she laughed and pulled him into a hug, looking over his shoulder towards you and smirking.

“Uhm, Bucky? The movie…?” you interrupted them. Bucky offered you an apologetic look as he took Natasha’s hand in his and led her to his bedroom door. 

“Sorry doll. Maybe another time.” your heart sunk, you knew this was too good to be true. The slam of his bedroom door caused you to tense up, as you sat on the couch in the dark listening to their giggles behind the door and then the loud music started.

“Thanks for nothing.” You mumbled to yourself, turning the TV off and sheepishly walking into your bedroom, allowing the tears to fall down your cheeks. You sank to the floor, raising your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around your legs. You wished this time you were good enough for Bucky, but clearly his priorities were the wrong way around.

Maybe this time you’ll be lucky enough to be approved to rent a different apartment. Now you were more sure that you didn’t want to be here, you didn’t want to be near Bucky any longer.