#make the change happen and the self reflection impossible to ignore

[zephyrfuse]

hiya! just wanted to say how i admire your confidence about your opinions on splatoon tumblr,, which can honestly be scary,,, but anyways i strongly agree with your opinions about frye!! i love her she deserves the world…. frye nation rise up let’s win a splatfest

FRYE ICON SPOTTED BASED AS FUCK!!! 🫵🫵🫵

Honestly that's real. I mean I was pretty vocal about my perspectives and opinions on twitter and weebs (as far as i'm concerned they were white) hated my ass for it so I eventually did leave cause that's a hellhole.

And for once this time, I don't blame a majority of the issue on the designers at nintendo who made Frye. It rlly is the shit bias of a large population of this planet.

Although I do blame nintendo's issue to first make less popular teams have a chance in splatfests and then immediately give frye the majority/child options: Family (seriously what % of children can celebrate solo or have the freedom to celebrate with friends) and saturday (the ease of appeal option, shiver of course got the workaholics with friday) I do wish they can give frye niche but insane options to actually utilize the new system better. Frye needs to absolutely win a splatfest but it's not gonna happen if they continue with the current trend with the newly balanced system.

If support for spoon 3 really is going to end 2 years from launch without frye winning more than 1 you know it's bad bad. It's already been bad bad and a lot of us seen the bias in the raw, but damn. And honestly, even if it sucks to look at and experience for a lot of people, once again it proves a point. I don't want to hear anymore "Stop making it about race" in splatoon after everyone seeing this. The only option is to move forward, you can't go back to ignorance anymore after this. The overall character design choices are going in good direction, it's just everyone hates to see it now that the dark character isn't shy and easily made into submissive fetish material. lol! I can only hope that whoever made these designs and approved of them, don't stop continuing to make those decisions that continue to diversify their cast. Again, splatoon 4 needs 4 fryes. I rest my case.

[urfavitgurl]

Holi. My sp is a guy from my university and I already knew him a year ago, I thought he was cute but nothing else. I only talked to him once, but for a course question and he was very polite. However, this year from one moment to the next I started to like him and I didn't understand why. He and I, we never spoke again since that one time, we have no friends in common, much less in networks and I know absolutely nothing about him, but his name. * I saw him with a girl, with a physical aspect very different from mine. She was kind of blonde and stuff) Back to the present * however, I started to claim that he is head over heels in love only with me. I didn't believe it at all, but I claimed only when I could and my negative thoughts were a bit stronger. The first week I started to pay more attention to him (before I didn't care what he did) but I was more attentive to him. I just got nervous when I passed him. Then I started to get confused if he was looking at my friend or me, so the doubts stayed in my mind and my friend started talking about him as if she was interested in him too, so I got sad. But I kept affirming, I only crossed paths with him a couple of times and his friends added me to talk but he never spoke to me, and he was on his cell phone, he ignored me. But then I saw him with the most popular girl in college, she is very pretty and obviously I am very insecure because I feel that I don't fit the standard of beauty or that I am not his physical type of him. Even more so when She is like the other girl I saw him with. I felt really bad, both because I saw no movement for me and I didn't understand how if I claimed that he was in love with me, he was with another girl flirting. What's more, he never talked to me or anything and I thought how would it happen. So I gave up and stopped affirming a couple of days ago, I feel really sad and I can't affirm because I'm kind of busy with my exams. But I really like that guy a lot, I feel like I left him in oblivion and I'm losing him, even when I try to affirm that he only has eyes for me. I remember his image with her. And even worse my friend told me that he was looking at her. What should I do? I don't even believe in my affirmations and I don't do them, maybe affirm two minutes a day or so. I want him to come closer to me and start something nice together. But I get depressed. Thank you so much and sorry for so much

hellooo, you don't need to apologize, it's okay to make long texts :)

my english is not so good, i'm using translator, so i hope you can understand ♡

first of all, circumstances don't matter, don't care if he has preferences/standards, you shouldn't feel bad about not fitting into eurocentric beauty standards. i'm sure you're beautiful, you just need to be more confident

once read that Neville once said that it is the states that manifest and that even if the 3d forces you to see the old story, at the end of the day you must return to the state of your new story.

i think that, first of all, you should improve your mindset and assume more self-confidence and self-love. i don't think it's a good idea to be in a relationship being very insecure, so take care of yourself first, take on more self-confidence and a better mindset and you will see that things will improve. 3d just reflects what is in your inner world/4d.

he's not impossible to achieve... it's already worked! nothing and no one can stop you from manifesting, nothing can get in your way. once you change your mindset, 3d changes too.

maybe i couldn't help you, but a good tumblr blog (in english) is theshiftingwitch

[burnbeforepod]

Claire the Nerd by Charlie

You wake up one morning and look in the mirror and see a different face staring back at you . . .

Claire was the most popular girl in the school. She was the head cheerleader and was dating the captain of the football team.  She used to have blond hair and blue eyes.  That was before something changed her life forever . . .

One Monday morning when she was getting ready for school, she went into the bathroom to do her make-up but didn’t see her usual blue eyes staring back at her in the mirror.  She saw the face of one of the nerdy girls she always bullied.  She had auburn hair and dark brown eyes.  At first her reflection was hard to see and she wondered why.  On her sink was a pair of glasses, so she picked them up and once she looked through them she knew that she had switched places with a nerd!

Claire went back to her room to find that she wasn’t even in her own house!  There was definitely something wrong there.  All of her designer outfits in her closet weren’t there.  Instead she found jeans, tie-dye T-shirts, button down shirts, and suspenders.  She tried to find something “wearable” for school that day.  She also met the other girl’s family downstairs but they didn’t seem to notice that she wasn’t their daughter at all.  She walked to school and saw her popular friends but when she tried to talk to them and tell them what had happened they ignored her and walked away.

Claire found the girl’s schedule and found that she would have to go to all Honors classes.  Claire actually was a smart girl but if she told anyone that she would be unpopular.  She didn’t know what to do.  No one would believe her if she told them that she was the most popular girl in school stuck inside the least popular girl’s body.  All through the school day her friends who still didn’t recognize her pushed her around and made fun of her.  Now she knew how the other girl felt.  How could this have happened?  Claire never thought she had done anything wrong.  She wasn’t nice to unpopular people only because they weren’t worth talking to.

During lunch that day she saw someone who looked like her old self holding hands with her boyfriend.  She was furious!  No one could touch her man without getting seriously hurt.  So she walked up to the couple.

“Why are you holding hands with my boyfriend?”  She asked outraged.

“I don’t even know your name, so how could I be your boyfriend?”  The guy asked.

“I handle this,” The girl in Claire’s body told him.

“Why did you steal my life?”  Claire asked when he had left.

“I wanted payback on you,” The girl said.  “You’ve been mean to me since 6th grade.  I wanted to be the one people liked for a change.”

“Look,” Claire said gritting her teeth.  “If you don’t switch back with me, you will be sorry.”

“That’s impossible,” The girl said.  “When I talked to the fortune-teller person she said that we would only switch back if you learned not to be mean again.”

“Maybe I won’t be if I get my life back,” Claire said.

“You’re wasting my popularity time,” The girl said.  “I have a boyfriend to get back to.”

The girl walked away leaving Claire standing alone in the middle of the lunch room.  She didn’t even know where to sit.  She couldn’t be popular looking how she did.  Then she noticed a table with nerds yelling out to her.  She got her lunch and sat with them.

“Hey, Angela!”  One nerdy girl yelled.  “Aren’t you sad its lunch and we’re not in class learning?”

“No,” Claire answered.  “I’m sad because that girl stole my popularity.”

Everyone at the table laughed like she was telling a joke.

“That’s a good one,” One boy said still laughing.  “Claire, the most popular girl in school stealing your popularity.”

The boy who said that had blond hair and stone gray eyes.  If he wasn’t wearing a nerdy outfit and glasses, Claire might have actually thought he was cute.  But she didn’t have time for that.  She had to figure out how to get her life back from the new “her”.  How could she learn how to not be mean?  It was something she had always done to get out her emotions.

When the school day ended the nerd boy met her by her new locker.  He looked as though he was waiting for her.

“Come on, it’s time to go to our club.”  He said.

“What club?”  Claire asked him.

“What do you mean ‘what club’?”  He asked.  “The Nerds Unite club that we made.”

Once she had all of her things he rushed her to a classroom.  All of the nerds from lunch were there.  They were talking about what they could do to ignore bullies that were always picking on them.  Claire was amazed that they actually had a club on how to avoid her.  She wasn’t really that mean, was she?  They talked about taking a different route to class, not looking directly into the popular people’s eyes, and ignoring what they say when they make fun of you.

The rest of the week Claire had to spend a lot of time with the nerds while she thought of how she could get back inside her body.  She actually tried asking the nerds what they would do in a situation like that but they didn’t laugh, they said the same thing that the real Angela had told her.  She would have to learn not to be mean.  During that week, she still couldn’t help it though.  She was mean and in a bad mood.  She didn’t know any other way to act.  Claire did try but she couldn’t see any other way to pass the time than make fun of people.

That Friday, the nerd boy whose name was Ethan, walked her home.  Even though she had been mean to him too he still was nice to her.  She felt strange.  She had never felt this feeling with her popular boyfriend.  But with Ethan she felt complete, almost like she didn’t have to be mean.  They walked by the park and sat down for a few minutes.

“Isn’t it a beautiful day?” Ethan asked looking up at the sky.

“No,” Claire said.

“You’ve been in a bad mood all week,” He said.  “Why?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” She replied.

“I’m smart,” He said.  “I’ll catch on eventually.”

So she told him.  He listened and had a serious face on the whole time.  When she was done he tried to tell if she was lying.

“So you’re really Claire?” He said.  “That would actually explain a lot.”

“I guess I should go since you hate me now,” Claire said standing up.

“No I don’t hate you Angela, I mean Claire.”  Ethan said standing up next to her.  “I want to help you.  You’re upset so I want to help you.”

“Really?”  Claire asked facing him.

“Yeah, I don’t care who you are.  I never turn away someone in need.”  He told her.

“But I can’t help being a little mean,” She said.

“I’ll teach you that there’s more to life than being mean to people,” He replied.

And he did.  During the weekend, Ethan talked to Claire about all the other interesting there was in life.  She finally started to get it and gave him a compliment.  When school began again on Monday, she went around giving people compliments.  When Claire saw Angela at lunch, she confronted her again.

“I want my body back,” Claire said.  “Cute shoes by the way.”

“Thanks,” Angela said.  “Yeah, there was a catch.  If you didn’t be nice by the end of last week you would be stuck like that forever.”

“What?!”  Claire yelled.  “You could’ve told me that!”

“Why would I want to give up my popularity so I could go back to being picked on again?”  Angela asked. 

“We could try to be friends,” Claire suggested hopefully.

“Nah,” Angela said.  “You made your choice when you tortured me every day since kindergarten.”

Angela turned on her high heels and walked back to her crowd.  Claire was stunned.  She could never go back to her old life.  But then she realized that she didn’t need that anymore.  She now knew that life wasn’t about being popular, pretty, or mean, it was about caring and being nice no matter how ugly you looked.

“Are you back, Angela?”  Ethan asked.

“No,” Claire said.  “I’m still Claire and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I’m actually glad,” Ethan said.  “I wanted you to figure that out so I could tell you how I feel . . .”

He didn’t get to finish.  Claire pulled him into a kiss and they lived dorkily ever after . . .

[rimofwell]

Not a real update but a sort of reflection.

It’s been a hell of a year. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten on here to write an update only to become overwhelmed minutes in. Recounting how things got to where they are seems daunting and honestly impossible. It’s been a hell of a year.

It’s been hard. Sometimes it feels as though things have gotten worse instead of better. I don’t know. I suppose if that’s the case it’s understandable given how many traumatic and triggering events have happened since I last wrote in July.

Lately it seems as though I’ve been coming to the same realizations over and over and over again. It’s like I have this profound insight, only to later realize it’s one I had months ago, maybe even years. I think perhaps what’s different is transitioning from knowing things in my mind to applying them in my life. Knowing is different from believing, from embracing, from practicing, from accepting etc. It’s also a different kind of practice to hold onto the truths you fought so hard to come by when things are difficult, especially when they are difficult as the kids say. Things have certainly been difficult.

Having insight into my life isn’t necessarily what’s been challenging. There are certainly core beliefs I’ve had to work incredibly hard to change, that’s true. But it’s not for lack of insight that I’ve remained stuck in a lot of ways.

My therapist and I talk a lot about splits. All the splits that existed growing up, like with my parents and their seemingly perfect exterior while behind closed doors being quite the opposite. I had these splits modeled for me early and I carried them with me into my life as an adult. I still have them. They’re not as stark as they were but they’re still very real, very present. My moments of genuine calm, of integration, of wholeness that are lost when I get triggered beyond a certain point.

That’s what keeps me stuck. And that’s what’s been the focus of my work now, being able to regulate myself when I feel like I’m past the point of regulation. Being able to skillfully bring myself to a place where I can know these truths even if I don’t feel them in the moment. 

I think I give too much weight to the periods of distress I have, somehow believing deep down that those periods are me in my true state and that everything else is simply a facade. 

It makes sense. For my whole life, I was forced to act like everything was going well, so I learned to mask everything. I learned to force down that distress, to ignore it, to abandon myself in service of what others wanted. And now, I think giving so much weight to those periods of distress is because I never want to do that again. It’s as if my holding onto those states is holding on to my younger self. Telling her that I won’t leave her again, that I won’t forget. 

But now the truth is that I am safe. My life, in many ways, is full. It’s pretty good. Even when I’m suffering so much, it's still good. I’m trying to shift my mindset. Letting go of the belief that these distressed states are more real and seeing them for what they are: memories from a past that nearly swallowed me whole. And while doing so reminding my young self that I’m not leaving her there. That I’m not abandoning her. Instead, I am bringing her with me into this beautiful life we have now. 

It reminds me of a quote from someone on here whose name I can’t remember. I can’t abandon the person I used to be so I carry her.

Maybe sometime soon I’ll write bullet points about the concrete things that are going on and where my life is at but for now this is the most real thing I have to say. It’s what feels most true.

[unma]

I didn't think I was going to write a full on essay about Papyrus and this was just going to be a minor thought but it spiralled into a long ass ramble so uh I'm giving it a title.

Papyrus Genocide Route AUs

(or: why the fuck does no one who does this shit actually spend the time to consider how these actions reflect on Papyrus's character and instead make him flip between happy torturer that isn't actually Papyrus and the forgiving Papyrus with any lack of nuance whatsoever?)

Watching a fan genocide au animation and I'm once again presented with the hallmarks of Undertale bad writing™️ but I do like the way these scenarios provoke thought about what the characters would do. I'm still of the opinion that Disbelief Papyrus is still a rather faithful if rough around the edges portrayal of his character, but I don't see many fan animations of Disbelief really acknowledge all the reluctance that simmers within Papyrus during the entire fight, such that the only reason you win is that he simply cannot ignore that side of him who still wants to forgive you.

He knows you killed everyone. He knows he is the final step and that you likely won't change. But it's only a 'likely', and that 0.001% chance is still enough for him to want to let you try regardless. The battle ending on the note of forgiveness and second chances is perfect, because really, how else would it end? Papyrus is too kind and too competent for it to end in you overcoming him after a mountain of reloads. His death was always going to be a betrayal kill.

On that note, Dustbelief Papyrus's methodical nature in forcing you to quit highlighting that he is just as knowledgeable as Sans about what the best option for winning is and is even more competent at performing that simple act is imo still a good portrayal of him. This is a Papyrus who has to wrestle with the actions he's committed, which while started by pure accident, has made killing a viable option of achieving this now that LV ensures he has lesser reservations about killing. The human can still change, they just have to be forced into it, and what else is a more effective method than punishment?

(There are issues with how the very nature of magic working on intent and Sans's theoretical 1 hp inevitably being increased by all the lv he gains, but I'm a Dusttale fan and never bothered criticizing the original premise of the AU despite just how out of character it is and how much build up and slow change that would be necessary that is missing from most depictions of the AU so really why should I care. These are superficial issues at best, really anything can change once you are burdened with the knowledge of being in a timeloop where your actions mean absolutely nothing and you watch everyone you love die, so like what justification do you need there?)

I don't recall if Dustbelief!Papyrus's battle ends on a note of him returning to his old self, but I believe that to be rather impossible. Both brothers has the (vaguely possibly real?) phantoms of the other influencing their action, and I find it very hard to believe that the part of Papyrus who considers leaving himself vulnerable would be able to break up to the surface with a Ghost Sans there to remind him how he's done that before and it was a very bad idea. He knows you'll never truly die, so why even have any reservations about killing you? For you, death is a minor inconvenience. For him, it's at best a major setback and at worst the end of his very existence. The end of everything and everyone as well. Another loop ended, another to begin. If he loses here, what's to say the coincidences necessary will happen this time? What's to say even if they do he won't just forget and end up the same way? There is no guaranteed second chance for him, and Papyrus is competent enough to not even let the chance occur.

I have a major hang up with the possibility of the human actually winning in a Dust route, given the mechanics of the game. I always thought the original ending to Dusttale (the game) having Sans abruptly die was dumb and illogical, but at least the human had the luxury of some kill stealing here. Even with the comic incomplete (though it's actually recently received updates and if this is the first you've heard of it you should check it out), it's clear that Papyrus is ruthlessly efficient and even exploits the human's ability to load to trap and mess with them, so at best for the human they get there with a bit of LV. At worst they get absolutely none. If Sans was so good at eating up all the kills, Papyrus is absolutely cracked at it. And given how I've explained that Papyrus isn't going to give himself up to be killed, I see legit no way Papyrus loses other than a human with no-hitting levels of skill like Merg or Shayy or something. (Is Shayy a no-hitter? Idk I never watched much of their videos. Hell I don't even know their pronouns it's that bad. It's 12:30am and I have a love-hate relationship with Opera as I slowly make the switch to Firefox so crucify me but I don't have the energy to look that up rn and deal with my cruel treatment of Opera resulting in it's absurd ram usage. Why am I on this tangent again? I swear never let me write these things.)

Anyway if game development wasn't a major pain in the neck and I had a family who wouldn't probably make my life more of a hell if I showed them that I probably have ADHD and need meds and not the power of Jesus fucking Christ and I had more time to do this stuff I'd make a fangame and post it and get some criticism to try and encourage more thought provoking analysis of Papyrus through alternate genocide routs but the former of those is unlikely for the near future (and even once I move out I don't want to imagine what it would cost to live and get meds, I think I'd rather just keel over than deal with all that stress) so instead I'm making very obviously ADHD induced rants about this while I sit halfway through a disbelief x last breath fan animation at fucking half past 12 while procrastinating replying to a dm and actually writing the fic I'm very excited to write but can't be bothered to write and huh I'm starting to think that I'm probably not wrong that I might have ADHD huh. What was this post about again?

This can't even be called a proper essay anymore. sorry about that. If you enjoyed my Papyrus ramblings please ignore the rest and simply tell me your thoughts. Even if you think I'm wrong I wanna hear why you think so and talk about it because I need to know more about Papyrus so I can write about him with confidence please I love this boy so much. He can fit so much nuance in that lovely skull of his. It's a shame his brother stole permanent residence in my brain where he would be.

[rafescoke]

All I Ask ; Rafe Cameron (Part 2)

masterlist

#Part 2

#Part 1

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Reader finds herself in the arms of her best friend’s brother after finding her boyfriend cheating on her

Warnings: Swearing, cheating, hella angst, JJ being an extreme asshole

A/N: you guys are truly amazing. thank you so much for the countless amount of love & support for my last works, i love you! 

p.s, my request box is always open! go ahead and drop any ideas bae

“Hey,” he said softly. “You’re okay?”

(Y/N) emitted a laugh, her eyes focusing on the road, but her mind was somewhere else. She cleared her throat, “Um, I don’t think so.”

“Want to talk about it?” he said, and she noticed the grogginess behind his voice. She felt bad now, knowing that she had woken him up, but she was desperate for someone.

She couldn’t go to the pogues; her only friends, not when they knew. They knew all along about Kie and JJ but they didn’t try to talk to her. She thought about Pope, how he had looked so nervous around her since a month ago and how she had thought of it as nothing more than anxiety for his new upcoming scholarship application.

(Y/N) groaned, tightening her fingers around the steering wheel. Why had she been so naive? Why couldn’t she realize the signs sooner?

“Are you okay?” Rafe asked, suddenly jolting up from his bed when he realized how quiet she has gotten. Ever since they got close 4 years ago, there was never a long silence between them as (Y/N) always has a random topic to discuss about. He would tell her that he doesn’t care, but he truly likes the new information she’ll give him.

Like how the word ‘who’ is the oldest English word in the world. 

“Like, the owl?” he asked, scrunching his face. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, licking the slowly melting ice cream, and Rafe had a sudden thought of stealing her snack.

“No. God, you’re stupid. It’s who.”

“Yeah, the owl,” he grunted, thinking hard. (Y/N) looked at him with her bored eyes again, and Rafe took a quick glance at the dripping ice cream.

“No, Rafe, that’s woo. I’m talking about who.”

“You should write it.”

Rafe watched as she used her pointer to write the word ‘who’ on the table using her ice cream. Rafe laughed, finally understanding the joke, and he smiled wider when she returned a grin.

“No,” her voice croaked, and she could feel her tears slowly rolling down her red cheeks. God, she felt stupid. Why would she cry over stupid stuff like this? She had told Rafe before that she couldn’t understand why Bella Swan was too sad over Edward’s flight, saying how Bella had Jacob all along to help her get over him. Rafe rolled his eyes at this statement, muttering something along the words of ‘this is a movie’, ‘Edward is hotter’, and ‘Jacob look like that cashier guy at the hardware store’.

But she understood everything clearly now because she too, felt like staying in her room for the rest of her life. 

“What happened? Do you need me to pick you up?” Rafe asked again, finally standing up from his bed and walking towards his bedside table to retrieve his car keys. He rubbed his eyes, still so tired, but he wanted to make sure she was safe.

“It’s alright, Rafe, you don’t have to pick me up, it’s just, um-” she took a deep breath, “Can I come over?”

Rafe stopped in his tracks, not sure if he had heard her right. He waited for a few seconds, “Huh?”

“Can I come over?” (Y/N) bit her lips, making a turn towards the road heading to Figure 8 from the Cut. The road was deserted, and she looked at the dashboard to check on the time.

2.43 a.m.

“Yeah, sure, um, when are you coming? I just have to wait for you, so you know the new passcode of the backdoor.”

“You guys changed it already?” she asked, and she was surprised to find a smile creeping onto her face. “When was the last time I came over? 2 months ago?”

“9,” Rafe muttered, “But it’s okay. I’ll wait for you, okay?”

“Okay,” she released a breath, “Thank you, Rafe.”

“Yeah,” was all he said before ending the line.

Maybe she did missed him. 

When she arrived before the white building of the Camerons’ household, she could see a figure sitting on the front porch, bending over something that (Y/N) assumed to be a phone.

Rafe was mindlessly playing Candy Crush, just starting on his third level when he heard a car door being shut. He jumped to his feet, ready to greet the girl, but stopped in his tracks when he saw the state of her.

She was still in her party clothes, her (H/C) hair in a messy ponytail and her makeup all smudged. He tried to think of a joke, wanting to lighten up the mood, but his deed was interrupted when she finally had him in a tight hug.

“Whoa,” Rafe exclaimed, putting his arms around her waist. He let her stayed in that position for a few more seconds, liking the warmth, and finally parted after he cleared his throat.

“What’s wrong?”

“I, um-” she sighed, not looking into his eyes. “I got cheated on.”

Rafe was glued to his spot as he watched her wiped her tears with her sleeve, looking down to her glittery blue slippers. He couldn’t remember the amount of times he had prayed for his (Y/N) and JJ to call it off, but he didn’t hope for any kind of cheating to occur.

“I’m so sorry,” Rafe said, pulling her into a hug again. He rested his chin against the top of her head, letting the scent of strawberry wafted into his nostrils. (Y/N) cried against his chest, her face all scrunched up, and when she pulled away for the second time, she noticed the tear stains on his shirt.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she rushed, trying to remove the stain using her fingers even though she knew it was impossible. She was too tired to think logically; she felt like laying in bed and watching Love Island until the day she dies.

“You’re still stupid, even when you’re all fucked up,” Rafe sighed, but he watched her from the corners of his eyes in case his words had struck her, but she looked like she understood the joke. She smiled weakly, pulling on the hem of her dress that had rode up down.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, pulling her by her wrist as he guided her through the backdoor to his room. He showed her the new passcode proudly, mouthing how it was his birthday date this time, and (Y/N) had emitted a small laugh.

Screw maybe, she did missed him.

“And still a mess,” she sighed, plopping onto Rafe’s blue bedsheet as she took a look around the room. The painting of a random boat in the middle of an ocean was still askewed, and his trash can were piling up. She made a face, pointing at the cause of disturbance.

“You have to clean that.”

“Sorry I couldn’t let you stay in our five stars suite, ma’am,” he said, finding an old t-shirt in his cupboard. “You know, since you barged in this hotel at this time, all there’s left is the 3 stars suite.”

“You’re calling this a 3 stars suite?” she laughed, tilting her head to one side. “Rafe, this room can’t even be rated.”

“Whatever,” he pulled out a yellow t-shirt, putting it aside before looking for a new pair of boxers. “Is your room still pink with that weird strawberry pound cake smell?”

“Yeah,” she laughed, crossing her legs. She was glad there were no crumbs on the bed, or else she would rather sleep in her car. “And that smell’s great. My sensory organs are blocked by all the dust you’re collecting in here.”

Rafe grinned, liking how she was back to her old self, and handed her the pair of boxers and the yellow t-shirt. (Y/N) muttered a quick thanks, her feet lightly padding against the carpeted floor towards his bathroom. She closed the door, leaning against the sink, watching her reflection in the mirror.

She did look miserable, and her eyes were all red and puffy. She always hate how puffy her eyes would get after a nice session of crying, having to endure the pain of soothing it down again. 

She shook her head, not wanting to spend anymore time thinking about JJ or Kie or the pogues who had betrayed her, and tried to reach for the zip of her dress. After a few good tries she sighed, relaxing her cramped arms. The familiar yet uneasy pain coursed through her veins, and without wanting to abuse herself anymore, she turned the doorknob.

“Rafe? Can you help me?”

“Huh? Yeah,” he came to the door, closing his eyes before he halted right in front of the object. “Are you naked?”

“No, can’t seem to be, too. Can you help me unzip?”

Rafe opened his eyes, feeling his heartbeat quickening, and with trembling hands, slowly unzipped her dress and stopping directly at the curve of her bottoms, silently admiring the view. 

He cleared his throat, shaking his head at the childish behaviour he just found himself in. “Yeah, done.”

“Thanks, Rafe,” she smiled, and turned to close the door again. Rafe listened to her breathing in the bathroom for a few more seconds, knowing how hard she was trying to ignore the aching feeling eating off of her. He wished he could take her pain away an make it his, knowing that at least he’ll have an excuse to snort more coke to ‘forget the pain’. 

When she got out of the bathroom, Rafe had to stop himself from drooling over her in his shirt and boxers. She always look good, but she had never looked better in nothing but his yellow shirt and his boxers. 

Rafe closed the light, remembering how she hates sleeping with any form of light either it’s tiny or big, and settled himself on the sofa. He wanted to give her space, not wanting to rush anything, knowing how tired she must felt from all the things she had to endure today.

“Rafe, we’re not 10. You can sleep on the same bed as I am,” she sighed, turning to face the other side. Rafe stood up, thanking the gods above, and settled for his new room.

“We never sleep in the same bed before,” he said, pulling the covers to shield himself from the cold. (Y/N) snorted at this statement, still not looking at him or even turning to face him.

The closest thing they have done to sleep right next to each other was in the car during a road trip, and when they woke up, they were both throwing disgusted faces and pretending to vomit.

“Stop it, you guys look stupid,” Sarah groaned, giving them a quick look over her shoulder. Rafe pulled his middle finger from under the blanket he was sharing with (Y/N), causing her to snort and struggling to hide her laugh.

. . .

“So yeah, that’s how you hit it.”

“You’re bluffing,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, taking over the club and watching the small hole in the distance, squinting her eyes. She took a step back, licked her teeth, and gave Topper the club back.

“See? I told you I’m right!” he exclaimed happily, clasping his hands together. He returned to the game, focusing on his goal, and hit the golf ball.

“That’s fine, I guess,” (Y/N) announced when he came back to the resting area, “For beginners.”

Rafe snorted, downing his mineral water before handing Topper the same bottle. Topper grunted at him, muttering how it’s unhygienic, but he took a full swing of it anyways, being so thirsty after sitting under the sun for hours long.

“We’re glad you’re back with us, (Y/N),” Topper smiled, removing his cap and fanning himself with the clothing. He opened his mouth to say something, but when he looked at Rafe’s expression, he quickly shut his mouth.

He wanted to ask her if she ever missed their old clique when she was with the pogues, but Rafe knew better. It had been 3 weeks since the incidence, and she had been doing so well in coping with the situation. They had been inseparable ever since, always attached to the hips everywhere they go; he couldn’t let one tiny mistake slip that can cause her another breakdown.

“Hey,” Kelce jogged to them, smiling apologetically at Rafe and Topper before placing a quick kiss on (Y/N) ‘s cheeks. (Y/N) smiled, knowing how sweet and gentle Kelce is, almost glad he still does the same thing to her even after they had not been hanging out for a year.

“You’re not dressed for the occasion,” Topper rolled his eyes, “And late. We’re already packing up, man.”

“I know, but I’m wondering if you guys would like to listen to Cage The Elephant this evening by the beach,” he explained, still heaving from his previous activity. He had drove straight from his home to the country club after getting 4 tickets to the show, excited to show his friends what he had gotten for her.

(Y/N) snorted, throwing her arms into the air. “Fuck off, Kelce. There’s no way they’re coming down to Obx.”

Kelce sighed, taking out his phone before showing her the proof in his photos. (Y/N) grinned, trying to contain herself, and looked at Rafe who seemed to be smiling as well.

“Thanks, Kelce,” she laughed, pulling him into a hug. They made her happy, and all the negative thoughts she had about them during her brief friendship with the pogues suddenly evaporating into the air. She squealed, jumping wildly, and she swore she has never felt this happy before.

Just them four. Like the old times.

Four hours later, (Y/N) took a step back when they arrived at the beach, the memory of what happened three weeks ago suddenly rewinding in her head. Rafe noticed how quiet she had been, and pulled her aside while Topper and Kelce went to check on the stage.

“Are you okay?”

(Y/N) bit her lips, nodding. She ran her fingers over the penguin charm Rafe had gotten her a week prior, saying how it resembles him when he sees her. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at him during that surprising moment, touched yet confused at the story behind the penguin charm.

“Okay. Do you need a drink?” he asked again, staring into her eyes. She shook her head, wetting her lips and putting on her usual smile. Rafe grinned at her, muttering how she’s doing so good, all while guiding her towards their two other friends.

“(Y/N)?”

(Y/N) turned to look at the source, not thinking much. She almost fell to the ground when she saw the person responsible, but Rafe still had his arms around her. He turned to check on her again, but followed her gaze when he noticed she was staring at the opposite direction.

“What the fuck?” Rafe yelled, pushing JJ’s chest with so much anger that he toppled over to John B. Sarah yelped, pulling Kie to her side, watching as her brother walked towards them furiously. 

“Chill, man, I just want to talk to her,” he said, taking a deep breath. He noticed the crowd starting to notice them, and his eyes landed on a certain girl who was held up by Topper and Kelce, both asking if she was okay.

“Fuck off, pogue,” Rafe said, his eyes stern as he stared over JJ and his group of friends. “You have nothing to say to her.”

As he turned to return to his friends, his chest heaving from the near-fight he almost encounter with JJ, he bended to (Y/N)’s height to check on her state. Her eyes were glassy, her face red.

“So you’re fucking them all now like a whore?” JJ shouted, loud enough for everyone else around them to gasp, and some already had their phones out. (Y/N) was shocked at this statement, frozen on her feet, not knowing what on earth would make JJ say that to her.

He was never mean to her, even when they had a fight. He yelled at her sometimes, sure, but she had been the one yelling first. He never called her anything of that sort, not even during sex, where she had given him her full consent.

“You’re crazy,” she muttered, her lips trembling. “Go to hell.”

“No, no, because it has always been easy for you, right? You broke up with me, got on with Rafe, leave your own friends and come back to the country clubs?” he laughed, and she flinched at his words. If JJ had meant the pogues as her friends, then he was totally wrong.

“Fuck off, pogue,” Topper stepped out, and before he could finish his sentence, JJ landed a full punch on his face, causing him to fall onto the ground with a thud.

(Y/N) screamed, getting to his side as Rafe returned JJ’s gesture. Topper laid on the ground with his nose starting to bleed, causing (Y/N) to panic while she rummaged through Rafe’s backpack he had left on the ground for clean tissues.

Topper groaned, keep wanting to get up, but (Y/N) held him in place, not letting her friend go and hurt himself more just for her. She cried while she tried to wipe the blood, hearing the fight behind her.

“Fuck you! You stupid pogue! You should be in jail like your dad!”

Something cracked in JJ as he yelled something back in pure anger. He punched, kicked, slapped and hit Rafe who was already on the ground, spitting blood.

“JJ! That’s enough,” Pope pulled him back, trying to contain the wild animal as he thrashed to escape. He yelled more curses at Rafe while Pope tried his best to pull him away, obviously not done with hitting the boy laying on the ground.

(Y/N) cried, running towards Rafe’s side, cupping his face and looking into his swollen eyes. She groaned when Rafe’s laugh filled the air, not believing how he was still joking in a state like this.

“I’m okay,” he said, his breath ragged. “Don’t cry. I’m okay.”

Rafe stood up slowly and looked at the direction of the still thrasing JJ, hearing his muffled shouts with his arms around (Y/N) ‘s waist. He held her close as she sobbed into his shoulder, still trembling.

“Let’s go home?” he asked, and (Y/N) didn’t need to be told twice to follow him into his car. As disappointed as she was that she didn’t get the chance to see her favourite band, she wanted to take care of Rafe, who had been there since the day she found out about Kie and JJ.

The clock struck 12 in the morning and the grandfather clock in the living room chimed as Rafe groaned, feeling a certain girl with trembling hands and tired eyes gently wiping a cotton pad across his cut. 

“Fuck! I said slowly,” he grunted, closing his eyes to decrease the pain. (Y/N) bit her lips, trying to concentrate all the while trying to contain her laugh. He hissed again when she dabbed on his cut, this time with his fingers gripping tightly around her wrist.

“I said slowly.”

“I’m doing it slow, asshole,” she smiled, and felt him softened when she finally threw the last cotton pad. She pulled the covers to his chin, fixing the front part of hair before going to the bathroom to wash her hands. When she came back, she found him still awake with his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling.

“I really need you to sleep,” she sighed, “To heal your pretty face.”

Rafe grinned and though (Y/N) tried her hardest not to smile back, she couldn’t deny the warm feeling settling in the pits of her stomach. 

“You think I’m pretty?”

There was no use denying it anymore.

“Yeah,” she shrugged, getting into the space beside him. “Even when you are all fucked up.”

(Y/N) could sense his smile even when she didn’t look at him, knowing how soft he usually end up being when she compliments him. She turned to look at him.

“Are you serious about not wanting a girlfriend?”

Rafe turned to look at her, his eyebrows raised. His insides exclaimed happily, liking the way his words had struck her. He meant what he said, but that statement didn’t apply to (Y/N). 

“Why?”

“Just asking,” she shrugged, and made a move to touch his cut. He hissed, feeling a sharp pain soaring in him, but she looked so peaceful trying to figure out his wound.

“You can kiss them to make them feel better,” he grinned, and watched as she groaned, trying to hide her face against the pillow. Rafe laughed, and turned the lamp beside him off, knowing that he shouldn’t push it and leave her be.

Just as he was about to drift into a peaceful sleep, he felt her soft lips against his, to which it was quick and gentle before she pulled away, giggling.

“4 years.”

“Huh?” (Y/N) questioned, still smiling from the kiss she just initiated a few seconds ago. She couldn’t contain herself; he looked so peaceful, so sweet, and so handsome. She didn’t know why she hadn’t kissed him sooner.

“I waited for that since 4 years ago.”

“Now you’re just pushing it, Rafe.”

Rafe grinned against the darkness, and felt his heart soaring. “Can we kiss again?”

“Tomorrow,” she stated, and Rafe laughed.

Tomorrrow. The next day. Next week. 

He didn’t care - as long as he will finally have her by his side. 

-

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[sortofanobsession]

To Cry for the Moon Part 12 (Moon Knight x Female Eternal!Reader)

Author's Note: This is another part that exists because @jupitersmoon167 has the best ideas and it was too awesome to not write. This one tugs on the heartstrings much like the last one, but we figured out a way to get to a happy ending. This will be angst to fluff, hurt to comfort eventually, just not quite in this part. We are getting there I promise!

Please do not take, copy, or translate without talking to me first. Reblogs, likes, and comments are encouraged. But anything else please message me first.

Y/N = Your Name. Y/N/N = Your Nickname. Reader pronouns She/Her. Story is 3rd person POV. 

Italic text is the reflected alter talking. Bold Italic text is sign language for Makkari.

Tag Requests are Open just message me.

Tagged: @rosaren2498, @yuugenmomo, @faefanatic,  @urlocallsimp  @assassinsasha23, @queenariesofnarnia, @rmoonstoner,  @crypticruler, @animelover18, @philiasoul, @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol, @22carolina08, @preciousbabypeter, @sleepyamaya, @so-done-with-bullshit

Primary Pairing: Steven Grant x Eternal!Reader, Marc Spector x Eternal!Reader, Khonshu x Ma'at!Reader

Content Warning: Mental Illness, Manipulation, Mind control, mentions of Death, mentions of Violence, Verbal Fighting, Physical Violence, Anger, Neglect of self.

Word Count: 3k+

WIP Series Masterlist

Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 13, Part 14

Part 12: Too Much, Too Fast

Makkari stops in her tracks when she sees a recognizable suit. She is supposed to be finding the point of emergence, and she did, but she found this scene too. The Moon Knight, ceremonial armor of Khonshu's avatar, in Egypt with some woman. Sersi and Ikaris had mentioned Moon Knight being Y/N’s boyfriend. Druig had been the one to mention that Moon Knight had broken Y/N’s heart and that she had a broken heart when she died. Without hesitation, she ran over and slammed him into a wall, her arm at his throat. The vigilante seemed to be taken off guard. She felt the vibrations of someone coming up behind her and quickly moved out of the way and shoved them back before going at Moon Knight again. She feels a blade connect with her armor and she kicks out at the figure sending them flying back. She feels the Moon Knight shout, but with his mask on she cannot understand him. It continues like that until Khonshu slams his staff against the ground and the wind swirls around them. 

“That is enough, Eternal!” Khonshu shouts but she cannot hear him or understand him. But the wind has Makkari turning and glaring. She speeds over picks up a rock and throws it at the deity’s skull. She begins to sign. “How could you let this happen? How could you do this to her?”

Khonshu sighs. “It has been too long Eternal, I do not know what you are saying.”

Makkari glares at him and then at the two avatars still in a fighting stance but holding off. Makkari gets in Moon Knights' face and shoves him again. 

Marc’s brain seems to catch up to what Khonshu had said. “She’s an eternal, like Y/N?” He asks.

“Yes, they were very close.”

“And she can see you like the others?

“But she cannot hear us. This particular eternal can feel vibrations but cannot hear. She is impossibly fast, and she seems to be quite angry with you.”

“Me? She threw a rock at you!”

Makkari was getting angry at being ignored so she shoved Marc again.

“Hey, quit it!” Marc says but his mask means she cannot understand him. Makkari throws her hands up in frustration before gripping the edge of the hood around the mask and tugs. “What- Why-” He is cut off as the suit shifts and Steven drops the mask. Makkari’s hands fall and her brows furrow at the change the suit makes. “You knew Y/N, you’re Makkari. She would talk about you with Sprite and Sersi.” Steven knew he made a mistake when her eyes narrowed at Y/N’s name. Makkari gripped his jacket by the lapels. And before he knows it his eyes are being forced to adjust to a dark room. When absolute chaos breaks out. Makkari is immediately attacked by Ikaris. She shoves Steven to the floor as Kingo blocks the shot from Ikaris and tells her to run. She does. Marc immediately takes over to try and figure out what is going on and the mask returns. Ready to fight even though he is pretty sure he doesn't know why but he figures any side that Sersi is on he should probably back that side. He is very confused as his presence is mostly ignored and Ikaris threatens to kill them all. Even more surprised when Sprite uses an illusion to help them leave. Marc is too cautious to say anything and just lets everything play out before him. He watches as the one who saved Makkari leaves with another guy. He doesn't say anything until Makkari returns, thankfully with Layla. She looks even more confused than he does. 

"What the hell just happened?" Layla asks.

"I was wondering the same thing," Marc says.

"Marc," Sersi starts. "I know Makkari just dropped you into an absolute mess but I need you and your…friend," she looks at Layla. "To trust me on this. We are in the middle of the end of the world and we have to stop it. So I need you two to just hang out." 

"Just hang out, your friend shows up in the middle of us retrieving a relic, slams me against a wall, drags me here, and you expect Layla and I to just hang out?"

“Layla? Your ex?" Sersi asks, shock clear on her face. Y/N had just died and Marc was already spending time with his ex-wife.

"Okay whatever you are thinking it's not that," Marc says. But before Sersi can respond she looks over to Makkari who had already had Phastos and Druig explain what happened with Ikaris. And is now frantically signing to Druig. She sees Druig glance at Marc. And while signing asks, “Him, this is him?” Druig looks again before he squares his shoulders and turns towards Marc. Marc steps forward to put himself between the man he doesn't know and Layla. 

“Druig,” Sersi begins to caution the mind-controlling Eternal. 

“So you’re one of the ones who broke our Y/N/N’s heart? Making trouble in her desert now, can’t seem to leave things be can you.” Druig’s eyes turn to gold but a shove at his shoulders stops him.

“Druig!” Sersi shouts. “You are not mind-controlling them. Wait, were you Makkari looking for him this whole time?"

“No, but he's here now isn't he and with his ex-wife no less. He’s lucky we’re in here or I’d drop him off a cliff, just like I told Y/N I would.”

“Where the hell are we?” Marc says when he glances at Sersi. 

Sersi answers, "This is our ship, the Domo,” Sersi says. "And like I said we are a bit busy right now trying to save the world from being destroyed by a cosmic being from inside the planet."

“And we are just supposed to stay here?!” Marc shouts. Makkari pins him to the wall. The room fills with shouting. 

“Makkari here doesn’t like your attitude,” Druig states. Sersi moves to pull Makkari away but stops when Druig looks at her. “I’ll handle it.”

“Druig,” Sersi starts.

“He’ll live, but only because Y/N wouldn’t want any harm to come to him. I’ll do it for her.” Druig says. He gets into Makkari’s line of sight and tells her to let go. Makkari moves to stand next to him. “Marc, right? That’s your name. You see Makkari isn’t the only one with an issue with your attitude. Y/N was our best friend,” he gestures between himself and Makkari. “We spent thousands of years together. I cannot say I’m surprised Khonshu’s avatar would have such a terrible temper. He always loved to pick a fight with her.”

“I’d take it back if I could,” Marc admits. 

“That’s the thing, you can’t she’s gone. I was there. I pulled her out of the deviant's mouth myself. Or maybe I should just show you the whole thing." He starts to put the deviant attacking Y/N and her scream into Marc's head with his powers. Then all hell breaks loose again.

The Moon Knight shifts, his mask goes up and it turns into an all-out fight. Makkari uses her speed and knocks the Moon Knight back, nearly earning a crescent dart to the shoulder. Sersi and Phastos take on Moon Knight by hand but try to keep it strictly defensive. Thena joins them. Drawing her blades as the others let her take over trying to subdue the Moon Knight. Layla takes advantage of the distraction and draws her own blades and goes to back up the Moon Knight. She only gets a few hits in before she is subdued by Makkari's speed. Phastos apologizes as he helps to secure her. Once pinned and secured by the restraints that Phastos seemingly created out of thin air. Layla sees Thena draw her sword up and the warrior goddess goes to pin the Moon Knight back. Druig steps in to put an end to it. He had started it after all. He forces Moon Knight to drop the mask and he hears Layla gasp when she sees the eyes continue glowing gold and not white.

"Interesting, this must be the third one," Druig says. He moves to stand before the subdued vigilante and studies him before he turns to Layla. "Do you know anything about this one?" He asks her, his eyes glowing the same gold as he continues to control the vigilante. She shakes her head. "Just let them go," Layla pleads.

Druig turns back to the Moon Knight. He can feel the mind battle against his, but it's almost too easy for Druig to remain in control. He has 7,000 years of practice at this. "Bring one of the other two out or I will," Druig threatens and eases back with his powers to the edge of the present consciousness. “If you do, I’ll let them have control back.” He remains at the edge of their fractured mind and feels it push against him one last time before it shifts to a mind that he had felt earlier. It was Marc's consciousness. It was a strange feeling, but he did as he had promisied. He withdrew his power completely. 

"There fight ended," Druig said before going to stand next to Makkari. 

"Marc?" Layla asks. His eyes snap to her. 

"What happened?" He asks her, confused about the scene before him. Layla's hands were bound with what looked to him like magic.

"Let them go," Druig says while signing for Makkari's sake. "Should be fine now." Phastos apologizes again as he releases Layla. He goes to keep working on the UniMind. Thena looks to Sersi. Sersi nods and Thena lets Marc go. Her blades disappear but she remains in case trouble begins again. Now that some semblance of calm has returned Sersi sighs. Everything has happened so fast. She goes to apologize but Druig starts talking first.

"You clearly have a type, Marc Spector," Druig says. "Winged, Egyptian spitfires." Druig chuckles. They watch as Layla and Marc both take a defensive stance. Druig holds his hands up. "And I won't get back into your mind unless I have to. I won't hurt you either. Y/N would find a way to kick my arse in the next life if I did." He takes a seat on the bench near the wall. "You have to understand. I tried to get Y/N to stay with me so I could keep her from getting hurt 500 years ago. I asked her again right before the deviants attacked. She said no. She was too determined to fix everything and get back to you. And Makkari and I, we weren't too pleased to find you with your ex-wife in the one place that Y/N had refused to join me for. The one place she always felt home outside of Olympia, which we now know never existed." He looks at Sersi. "That is why we got a bit pushy.” He looks back at Marc. “Although we still have questions, your ex-wife is an avatar too? Did Y/N know you guys work together still? Not that it matters now, but what can I say I have a curious mind."

Layla glares at him before turning to Marc. "Are you okay? You blacked out again didn't you?"

"I did," Marc nods. 

"He said it was the third alter," Layla tells him gesturing to Druig. 

"His name's Jake Lockley, he's very angry and very American, also Spanish,"  Druig tells them. "And his mind is dark, and angry, haven't felt one like that in over 500 years." Druig sighs but admits, "Y/N wasn't wrong, your mind is a minefield, but she wouldn't want me to mess with it. She liked you too much." 

Sersi shakes her head and turns to the pair of avatars. "I'm sorry, Marc, Layla. That was not supposed to happen."

"Sersi, there is something I need to know," Marc looks at her. 

Sersi is surprised he is not putting up a bigger fight. "You are owed a lot of explanations," Sersi says eyeing Makkari. "But ask away."

"Are there more deviants?" He asks

Sersi is a bit surprised but she remembers what had set the Jake personality off. Druig showed them Y/N losing the fight with the deviant. Her tone fills with pain and regret as she answers, "Ikaris killed the one that caused Y/N's death. Kingo and I both killed other ones, but the lead one, the one that killed Ajak and Gilgamesh, he’s the same one that you saw in London, and a few others got away. But that leader, Ikaris and Thena said he changed."

"He spoke," Thena adds. "They have never done that before."

"It was like it took the powers of Ajak and Gilgamesh and made itself more humanoid, more sentient," Sersi says. "It threatened to kill us for killing the other deviants."

"I want a chance at it," Marc says. 

"Absolutely not," Sersi replies.

"You can't be serious," Layla says.

"They took Y/N from us, Layla,” Marc explains. “Steven barely talks to me anymore. I have to make it up to him. I have to do this."

"She couldn't beat one of these with help from all of them," Layla says, gesturing around her. "What makes you think you can survive that fight?"

"Because as long as I have the suit, it can't kill me," Marc replies. “And you’ve seen this Jake guy at work. He is nearly unstoppable. Even Harrow and his team couldn’t stop that part of us.”

"It might be able to drain Khonshu’s power too. A risk I cannot allow you to take Marc," Sersi says. "I need my team to be focused on stopping the giant celestial inside this planet from emerging and killing every single living thing on this planet. We need Druig to put it back to sleep until we can figure out what else we can do. The deviants we will deal with when we have to, but the emergence is here and we have to prioritize." 

"They killed Y/N," Marc says. "Do you really think I am just going to let that go?"

"Yes, because she told me to save you. She lay there dying and told us to save you. To save humanity. I won't let you take away my friend's dying wish. You have to live. Humanity has to live. If we fail she and the others die for nothing."

"If the whole world ends then why does it matter if I die trying to take down the monsters that killed her," Marc argues. 

"You would go after them without us?" Sersi asks. 

"If it's the only chance I've got. I'm sure Khonshu would agree."

"I cannot believe I'm saying this," Sersi says. "Stay with us, we stop the emergence and we will help you find them." 

"Deal," Marc says.

"Marc," Layla says, she can't believe what she was hearing. "You don't get to go on a suicide mission."

"We saved the world from Harrow and Ammit, Layla. Why not help save it again? If we don't then what was the point of stopping it the first time?

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Layla," Sersi assures her. "We can take you home and we will handle everything."

"So I just go home while my ex-husband gets himself killed and I have to deal with him dying again. And I'm supposed to live with that? I don't think so."

"Layla," Marc starts.

"Nope, you don't get to die on me again. Steven either. So I guess I'm in."

Thena can appreciate the vengeance Marc wants. She feels the same way. “Then you two will stay with me, the deviant has been tracking us, and I plan to deal with it. We want the same thing.” She looks at Sersi, “I will keep them alive, it is what both Y/N and Gilgamesh would want.”

“You’re sure that is a good idea?” Sersi asks.

“If they don’t show up we will help with Ikaris,” Thena says. “But you have to admit, we all know what the avatars are capable of, we have let them and the other heroes do too much of the work for too long. Why not join forces, like the old days.”

"Well if they are staying they can at least help," Druig says. "Look, if I’m gonna get myself killed going up against Ikaris, we’ll need to have a backup plan. They might help but you know Ikaris won't make this easy."

“All of our powers, even if they’re amplified, are not enough to kill a Celestial, so…” Phastos says as he contributes to the discussion he has been half listening to. 

“Well, Sersi did turn a Deviant into a tree,” Druig says.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You didn’t wanna tell me that?

Makkari signs, “You’ve never been able to do it before.”

“I don’t know how it happened, okay?” Sersi tells them, “And I’m pretty sure I couldn’t do it again."

“Well, now is the time to try, don’t you think?” Phastos asks.

“Phastos, that deviant is dead,” Sersi defends. “Our plan is to put Tiamut to sleep, not to kill it.”

Sersi looks at all of them trying to find someone that might back her up. “I can’t kill a Celestial.”

“Sersi,” Phastos starts.

“We can’t!” Sersi insists, clearly stressed by the idea. “We can’t.”

Marc had a feeling if Steven was fronting he would want to try and comfort Sersi and he almost lets him, but Druig seems to have the same idea.

“It’s okay, Sersi,” Druig assures her, “I got this.” 

Marc could see why he was one of Y/N’s closes friends. He was stubborn, Y/N had said he was in her voicemails. He follows Sersi to see her standing in front of a statue of what he could only assume was the celestial they served. He lets Steven take over. 

“So this is who you serve?” Steven asks.

“Yes, this is Arishem, and we did serve him, until now,” Sersi tells him. “I didn’t see the lies right in front of me.”

“Who can blame you?” Steven says. “Neither did Y/N and seeing through lies was her main purpose.”

“And that tore Y/N apart. She went to Osiris and begged forgiveness. She felt horrible that her scales were useless now because she had no idea what the truth was anymore. She was my family, and she had lost her purpose. She didn’t know how to be the keeper of truth and justice when everything she knew was a lie. The gods apparently convinced her that her true purpose was to help us stop Tiamut. That her purpose was the same, she was just being too hard on herself. Part of me thinks even with her doubts she would have been a better choice to lead.”

“As much as I loved Y/N, she wouldn’t have wanted that. You were the one she looked to for guidance. When she found the kingdom gone and she didn’t have a home to go back to where did she go? To You, she tracked you down. Not Ajak, not Druig or Makkari, she went to you. Because you always kept everyone’s best interest at heart. You didn’t tell the Eternals to separate, that was Ajak it sounds like. You were the one Y/N went to. That has to mean something. Y/N, she…” Steven’s voice filled with even more emotions. “She told you to save humanity. She knew she could trust you to do it. She knew you would because you love humanity. You love this planet.”

“He’s right,” Thena says as she joins the. “Gilgamesh always told me that ‘When you love something, you protect it. It is the most natural thing in the world’. You have loved these people since the day we arrived. So, there is no one better to lead us now than you.”

“Exactly,” Steven says. “Y/N may not be here but we are, and this isn’t Layla’s first time saving humanity either. Marc’s first instinct when Makkari brought us here, and fighting broke out was to look at you. He looked to you because Y/N did, and Dane does, and that was all he needed to know. Whatever side you were on, that was the side we’d take.”

“You mean that?” Sersi asks. 

“Of course he does,” Thena says, a slight grin on her face. “He was Y/N/N’s partner, do you really think she’d have had them in her life if he wasn’t honest?”

“Thanks,” Steven smiles at Thena. “You’re Thena, aren’t you? I’m Steven, you’ve met Marc, I guess. But, Y/N always said you had taught her a lot.”

“I bet she left out that most of it was how to use those blades she summoned when she wasn’t in the air. They made for great projectiles but not so well on the ground. We used to train so often. She wanted to be a better fighter. I always told her she already was, because she put her heart into it.”

“She put her heart into everything,” Sersi says.

“Which is why we aren’t giving up,” Thena states. “Ajak chose you for a reason.”

They all turn when they hear Phastos calling for Sersi. 

“Oh, Sersi. We need you!” Phastos says when he finds them.

“I already gave that speech,” Thena says, “Steven too.”

“What?” Phastos looked confused but waved it off. "We just have to get the UniMind working and you will have enough power to stop it. "Sersi, the sphere inside of you, it creates a connection between you and Arishem. Maybe I can repurpose it and create a connection between, uh, well, all of us. And that can activate the UniMind.”

“Great,” Sersi says, glad they finally have a plan.

“Yeah,” Phastos says, “but um…I have to take it out of you.”

“Okay," Sersi says. “Do it.”

“Okay,” Phastos says.

“Don’t kill her,” Thena says.

“Is that a possibility?” Steven asks, shock on his face. 

“Thena…” Sersi says. “Do it,” she repeats. Steven watches in aww as Phastos draws a golden sphere out of Sersi and it floats in the air. It reminded Steven of the golden scarab, mysterious and powerful.

“Will it work?” Sersi asks.

“It has to,” Phastos replies.

[saturnrevolution]

Pluto in your chart - isolation and transformation

by saturnrevolution

Pluto in the 1st house

You might have longer periods of time where you isolate yourself from who you actually want to be. You might find yourself getting lost in what others expect of you, your fears and insecurities out of comparison or feeling like you are in a competition with others. This makes you forget what it is that you actually want and overidentify with what others want, even if clearly that's not your path. You will attract people that will mirror these traits to you, they will ignite your fears and make you uncomfortable in order for you to actually get to know yourself better and only search for the power you have within, not the external one.

Pluto in the 2nd house

You might have longer periods of time where you isolate yourself from your own worth. You might have felt like you need to make yourself small in order to please everyone and your self esteem might have been affected in childhood. You might have felt like things were taken away from you, so this makes you want to react emotionally whenever you feel threatened or owned. This process of isolation teaches you, in time how much you actually need to be there for yourself and transforms you into understanding that you worth does not depend on any external possession or owning.

Pluto in the 3rd house

You might have longer periods of time where you isolate yourself from communicating. Maybe this means isolating yourself from communication with people in your immediate environment or maybe it just means that you do not share your feelings and rather keep it in your head. You might have moments when you are very private with the things you say. This will happen until you realize how powerful your words can be and how you should not shy away from their intensity. You will experience moments when your words are challenged by others in order to speak up and let out the things that you have been holding onto for too long.

Pluto in the 4th house

You might have longer periods of time where you isolate yourself from your family or home. Maybe you feel like you need to detach from these or you do not let others know personal things about your family. Sometimes, you do not allow yourself to build stronger connections with people that can potentially become your family. This is happening because you have some past fears and traumas from childhood. Maybe you felt hurt and left out, which makes you not want to experience that again. You are going to meet people that help you open up until you go through these transformative moments which do show you the importance of a home and how much you actually need connection.

Pluto in the 5th house

You might have longer periods of time where you isolate yourself from indulging in the things that give you pleasure. This can be your hobbies, going out or sparking a new romance. Maybe you had to go through some tough times related these topics and you do feel like you are not good enough or like you are too intense and you are scared to let things get out of your control. There is beauty in you and you will go through transformative experiences that help you appreciate the play in these areas of your life in order to understand how special and talented you actually are and how much love you deserve to offer to yourself first in order to receive from an external source.

Pluto in the 6th house

You might have longer periods of time where you isolate yourself from your coworkers or you are private with your work, you might also simply not care too much for your routine or your health for extended periods of time. On the long run, this might bring up some past issues connected to the way you approach your everyday life and the love you have for your body. When that happens, you will realize how important it is to nurture yourself and work on balancing things out physically and mentally. This will bring a powerful transformation which will improve the way you approach your body and your work environment and you will work on being more vulnerable to get the best experiences here.

Pluto in the 7th house

You might have longer periods of being single or being in a long term relationship and isolating yourself from other relationships in your life. You might feel like you do not need these type of relationships in order to be whole, sometimes just platonic relationships or just being with only your partner or simply by yourself is enough for you. These longer periods are highly transformational and teaching you how to find love within yourself, but also when the isolation is gone, they teach you the satisfaction you can get from interaction. You might also ignore other's projections of you only to realize that they have been mirroring your behavior all along which instigates change within you.

Pluto in the 8th house

You might have had longer periods of time where you ignored or just took a break from building deep emotional connections or you just didn't focus a lot on your mental health. Also, you might have felt like you are independent and you do not need to share your resources with anyone or you don't need anyone's help. These periods are the ones that transform your vision and that actually help you be more in tune with your emotions. This teaches you that vulnerability and looking deeper is important for self discovery and for your soul. Once you see how it feels to be lonely, you understand that you do not need to depend on others to be happy, but you do need their help every once in a while.

Pluto in the 9th house

You might have had longer periods of time where you felt like you were living a lot in your immediate environment, maybe not travelling or postponing new experiences for the sake of comfort. At the same time, maybe you needed to pursue education, school or university by yourself and in your own way or maybe you didn't opt for any of these. In reality, you need periods of isolation in this area of your life as they teach you to be in solitude with your own thoughts, so that when you are ready to form and share your beliefs with others, you will do so more intuitively and from a place of self awareness. These isolation periods are major periods of spiritual transformation for you.

Pluto in the 10th house

You might have experienced longer moments of isolation in your career - maybe you postponed making your career an opportunity or maybe the circumstances were blocking that. Also, you might have taken breaks in between jobs or feel as if you are not quite on the right track for more than just a few weeks. These periods of loneliness in this particular area are teaching you how to not depend on external sources, but also bringing in beautiful transformative experiences that you couldn't have had if you didn't take time to reflect. They teach you about what it is that you're ready to accept career wise and what you will not sacrifice for. Isolation might feel intense at the time, but it saves time for the right opportunities to come your way.

Pluto in the 11th house

You might experience longer periods of isolation from your friends or groups of people. You might have had longer moments when you were a hermit and needed to spend time with yourself and recharge. This happens because you had some past experiences that hurt you and you feel as if you are better off by yourself. In reality, the area of friendships and groups of people is one that you learn a lot from and one that's very transformative for you. The time you take away from everyone offers you a fresh outlook on life and gives you the energy you need to stand out in groups of people and actually realize that the friendships you have are something you need and crave and how deeply cared you are for in these relationships.

Pluto in the 12th house

You might experience longer periods of isolation from going for what it is you wish for. You might convince yourself that it's impossible to reach the things you put your mind to, due to the fact that you had to go through rough times which to you always seem to prevent you from moving forward. In reality, all those difficult experiences you had are transforming you into the best version of yourself and slowly getting you closer to your dreams, even if it does not feel like so. Your past and circumstances are not defining you, but they are leading you to greater things and for you, empathy and compassion for yourself is one way to reach them.

[ev-pierce-writes]

Doll

Pairing: Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier) x F!Reader

Words: 7.7K

Rating: Very much 18+

Warnings: P in V, oral (fem receiving), light (consensual) choking, praise, James Buchanan Barnes is a sad boy and only you can make him happy, mutual therapy over past trauma, a couple light spanks, and some sexy sparring

Note: Reader had a run-in with Hydra that gave you invisibility powers. Bucky is tasked with training you. Totally not canon, I just kept the parts I liked. Got the idea from a tiktok but I can't find it anymore oops. I'm thinking of turning it into a series of all the places you can fuck Bucky Barnes at Avengers HQ. Enjoyyyyyy....

---

"Alright, so I'm thinking absolutely the first thing you need is a suit. Because we can't have you sneaking around in clothes that give you away."

Tony Stark and Peter Parker stand before you at Avengers HQ, furiously tossing ideas back and forth, trying to come up with ways to build you the best possible suit. Last night had been...interesting, to say the least.

"Who's that?" Stark had said when you appeared all of a sudden from your room. "Come on Agent Hill, don't tell me you're taking in lost kids nowadays."

Your mother had only laughed, slightly inebriated and feeling loose because of all the drinking that was going on in your penthouse apartment. She was hosting one of those parties where too many superpowers drank too much alcohol and got a little too rowdy. "That's my daughter."

Usually, you stay away from such events, go out with friends, and avoid the house until it's all over. For the past four years, you hadn't even been in the house to need to avoid it. But now you're 22 and a recent college graduate and something about the party was drawing you in so you had emerged from your hideaway to join in the fun.

"Alright, Maria, how'd you manage to keep that one a secret?" Romanov spoke up.

Until this point, you'd remained silent, in shock at the sudden attention a group of superheroes had focused onto you. But you couldn't help yourself from responding now. You'd managed to hide away long enough. It was time to come into the open.

"I'm a ghost," you said jokingly, approaching the couch and stealing the drink your mother had been drinking to take a sip. It was strong and burned on the way down. The group laughed at your words, unaware of how true they really were.

It was then that you'd performed your little trick, the one that only a few of your closest friends had ever seen. You became invisible.

The laughter had immediately stopped. The girl who suddenly appeared out of thin air had disappeared right back into it. They could still tell where you were of course. The glass in your hand remained visible, floating in mid-air, giving away your position. And your clothes were still perceptible, not being able to change with you. But your features were otherwise undetectable, not even a shimmer revealing your face. You took another sip of the drink, liquid disappearing into an invisible mouth.

"I want her. On the team," Stark had said.

And that was it. The start of your superhero career.

"Explain again exactly how this works?" Parker asks.

You sigh and start from the beginning, again. "I can distort the absorption wavelengths of my cells so that the reflected light is in the invisible range, usually infrared."

"And how long can you hold it for?"

"About seven minutes now," you explain. "It's sort of like holding your breath. You can go underwater for a while, and you can practice holding your breath longer and longer, but eventually, you need to come up for air. Eventually, I have to 'recharge.' But I've been working on extending it."

Stark turns to one of the many holograms of his supercomputer, working with Friday to design a brand new suit to accommodate your skills. You're so engrossed in watching his process you don't even notice the shadowy figure appear in the doorway that leads to the training facilities.

"How'd you get these powers? Agent Hill isn't lacking in skill but it certainly isn't supernatural."

You knew Stark's question would come up eventually. It always did. Over time, it became easier to tell the story, but now you really don't feel like explaining fully, so you tell the short version.

"Hydra. When I was seventeen. They used me as a bargaining chip against my mom in a mission gone wrong and decided to experiment on me in the process. Left me with a lot of scars and a lot of therapy. Almost dropped out of school."

You don't remember much from the experience. But enough for it to leave lasting damage.

"Hydra?" a familiar voice asks behind you. Only now do you notice that Barnes is behind you. How long has he been watching?

You remain silent, just like you did the night before when he'd arrived late to the party, unable to speak under his gaze.

You had planned to leave not long after you joined the festivities. But when the elevator doors opened, a pair of blue eyes halted you in your path. James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. You'd recognize those eyes anywhere. Crystal clear and icy, freezing you under their gaze. He wore a leather jacket and leather gloves, concealing his metal arm, but you knew it was there, hiding behind the layers.

Barnes had always been the one that caught your eye during your mother's briefings. His transition from the greatest warrior Hydra had to offer, and thus S.H.I.E.L.D.'s greatest enemy, to the trusted companion of Captain America and official Avengers member intrigued you. At first, he had been more of a schoolgirl crush, the little girl grappling with her new powers seeking guidance in someone who didn't even know she existed. But age had not reduced your admiration of him. Barnes' face was hard set in serious determination and his glance barely grazed over you before turning to the rest of the group. He paid you not a single ounce of attention, yet you felt dumbstruck in his presence.

But Bucky had noticed you that night. Noticed you in a way he wanted desperately to hide, so he disallowed his eyes from lingering on you. Who were you and why were you wearing pajamas at a party and how did you make them actually look good?

And not only did he notice you, but he recognized you. He wasn't sure how, but something at the back of his head buried beneath decades of blurred half-memories told him he knew you. It was a stupid thought, though. How could he know you?

From the doorway, his eyes narrow in concern, making you feel smaller than ever beneath him. How is that 5 o'clock shadow so enticing? You just want to run your fingers across--

Stark gestures at Barnes, completely ignoring his comment. "Good, you're here. Our young Agent Hill needs to get started with her training immediately. I want her in the field but she can't be going in inexperienced. Teach her the works."

It's rather bold of Stark to assume you have no combat skills. And to assume you even want to go into the field. But you follow behind Barnes in silence anyway toward the training facilities. It doesn't matter what you know and don't know. He's going to kick your ass anyway.

"Feet wider," he says, coaching you on your swing. His blue eyes have somehow darkened, and along with the faint beard, he looks positively dangerous. "Not too wide."

"I know how to punch, Barnes," you whisper under your breath. He's not meant to hear your words, but he does anyway.

"Oh yeah? Punch me then. Go for it." His voice is challenging in the way that reveals he knows he could block any swing that comes at him. But he wants to see what will happen. Your mention of Hydra loosened a memory in his brain somewhere, and though he can't quite place his finger on it, the memory told him you're anything but the kid he's treating you like. He wants to know what you really have inside you.

Your annoyance gets the best of you. You aim for his face, the way your mother taught you. And she taught you well, teaching you all the self-defense skills you might need moving through the world as a woman. But she did not teach you how to fight super soldiers. That's an entirely different world.

Unsurprisingly, Barnes predicts your move and his metal arm comes up to meet your human one, halting your punch mid-swing. His palm fully engulfs your fist, your knuckles slamming into the metal with a ringing sound.

"Fuck, that hurt," you seethe through your teeth, gripping your hand in pain. And yet, you still smile. You mean for your words to sound irritated, but they betray how much you enjoy getting a swing in. "Didn't have to do me like that, Barnes."

He ignores your pain, though secretly it pleases him to find how much force is truly behind your punch. Nothing, of course, his metal arm can't take, but strong enough. "Language, kid. Go again. And this time, try not to be so obvious."

Despite his advice, it's impossible. He predicts every one of your strikes and counters them with four times as much strength as you possess. You give him everything you have, and nothing lands.

"This would be a lot easier if you let me use my powers."

So far, Barnes has refused to let you fight invisible, not that it would have done you much good without a proper suit. But you're tired and sweaty, your hair falling from its ponytail and sticking to your face, your muscles aching and your heart beating fast. Barnes hasn't even broken a sweat.

"Unless you learn to fight without your powers, they'll do nothing more than level the playing field. You need to be at an advantage if you're going to survive."

Survive. You've done plenty of that already. You want better than survival. Barnes recognizes the look on your face, the one that expresses the desire plainly. He knows the feeling, drifting from one day to the next and wanting more than that.

His voice softens a bit. "We can call it quits for the day. Get some rest. We'll go again tomorrow."

He didn't intend to be so kind. It just sort of happened, drawn out of him by the not-so-innocent girl who still has a lot to learn but can hold her own better than most.

---

Tomorrow. Tomorrow's8 like the day before, 9 am at HQ, wait for Parker to get his ass up the elevator so Stark can begin, get sidetracked by coffee, and then finally return to the task at hand.

"Give this a shot," Stark says, handing you what looks like nothing more than a vaguely human-shaped paper suit. "Not exactly protective, but it's a new technology. Should conform to your abilities."

"You did this overnight?"

"Of course. Get changed."

The suit has little support and definitely no protection. You feel like a fingernail could rip a hole through it if you pull on it wrong, let alone a knife coming at you from an angry enemy. But it's a start. An impressive start. You stare at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom as you shift, the suit shifting along with you.

Back in the training facilities, where you know Stark and Parker will be waiting, you remain in your shifted form. They don't look up as you enter, somehow having not heard you, and instead are engaged in a heated discussion with Barnes about something you don't understand. So you creep up behind Parker, lean in, and whisper into his ear.

"I think it works."

You feel a little bad, but only for a moment. Parker jumps straight out of his skin, screaming a scream you didn't know was possible from the kid. Stark lets out a laugh as you rematerialize, and Barnes even cracks a smile at your prank.

"Yeah, yeah, I'd say so." Parker's voice quivers.

"Well, what do you think?" Stark asks.

"Very thin," you say, aware that much more is visible than you really want. "I feel like it's going to rip at any moment. And there's not a whole lot of support in this area."

You gesture vaguely at your chest, not knowing how best to explain to a group of men that a sports bra is a necessity for fighting, but knowing you have to make them aware all the same. You can feel Barnes' eyes on you, a little less polite than the others, and you find you like the way he eyes you up, a bit like a puzzle to be solved or a strategy to be devised.

"Right, right, I'll get on that. Only a prototype anyway," Stark responds nervously. "Back to work, Parker. Hill, Barnes, back to training."

Bucky tries his best not to picture what you might look like without that suit, but it leaves little to the imagination as you saunter away to change again.

And so the days move forward. You've never before been so busy or exhausted in your life. You just graduated college, which is a feat in itself, but all the training, all the work, keeps you on your toes so that by the end of the day, both your brain and your body are tired.

Still, you improve and get better at sparring Barnes, even taking him down a couple of times on your own, though you suspect he's going easy on you.

"Again." Barnes is already on his feet and helping you to yours. Today the sparring room is particularly warm, and you've long forgone your sweats for shorts and a sports bra. Barnes has lost the shirt as well, and his chest glistens with sweat beneath the fluorescent lights. Maybe it's the heat or maybe it's him, but the whole thing feels a bit dreamlike. Here you are, sparring with a man who could take you to the ground with one arm alone, and he's letting you kick his ass every once in a while.

But there's no way you can do it again. You feel destroyed by all the slamming onto the mat.

Barnes is doing his best not to be distracted as well, but those tight shorts and the top that reveals your midriff have to be on purpose. It's easy to admit to himself that he likes you, might even be attracted to you. You fight hard and relentlessly, rising to every one of his challenges and not backing down even when you're tired. You've already come a long way since that first encounter, and Barnes has come to look forward to the two hours a day you spend together in the gym. He had tried to tell himself it was the fun of having a new sparring partner, but in truth, he knows it's the determined glint in your eyes, the way you bounce on your feet in excited anticipation of the fight, the way you collapse on the mat after a hard session, chest heaving deep breaths in and out. But what he likes most is your heated gaze when he pins you to the ground, or even better, you pin him.

"Knock me down one more time and you can be done," he challenges. The familiar determination returns, though a flicker of doubt remains behind your eyes. He can tell you need encouragement. "Remember to use your size to your advantage. Don't let me get ahead of you. Keep me guessing."

You do your best. You really do. You hold your own for almost two minutes, but it's obvious you're only barely staying ahead of him. As soon as you falter, Barnes has you flat on your back on the mat without much resistance, immobilized by a knee on your thighs and his metal arm trapping your hands over your head. His free hand plants by your head and holds him up to prevent him from actually hurting you.

You gasp underneath him, trying to disguise the weird flicker of desire with breathlessness. He looks good from down here, all sweaty and dark and serious. But you're also a bit too tired to care. "I'm out, Barnes. Let me go."

Let me go. Please.

And that's when the memory returns. The full, real memory, the one that has been tickling the edges of his brain since he first saw you. You, a kid, his mission. Kidnap, don't kill. A small voice, your voice, begging. Please, let me go. What has he done?

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, standing up quickly.

"Language, Barnes," you say teasingly. But he doesn't laugh, simply exits the sparring room, abruptly leaving you, speechless and alone on the floor. What just happened?

After a moment of confused silence on the mat, you brush it off and stand, heading to your room for a shower. Stark offered you a place to stay at HQ, and you happily agreed. Though you loved being back with your mother after four years away at college, you cherish your independence. A room at HQ offered you just that.

A nice shower would certainly make you feel better after that confusing interaction. You pull on your robe and shower shoes, leaving your clothes behind so as to carry one less thing. But as you pass down the hall toward the showers, you can hear Barnes' voice drift through the slightly open door to his room.

"I remembered," he says. "It was her. I'm the reason she's--" He cuts off, appearing to be interrupted by whoever he's talking to on the phone. You pause by the open door.

"I know that's not me anymore but I'm still responsible," he continues. "I have to tell her."

Again a pause. By now it's apparent he's talking about you.

"No, Steve, we aren't a team. We aren't partners. I'm helping Tony out. I don't care if she doesn't want to work with me anymore, this is part of my redemption. I have to tell her."

The conversation seems over. You rush to the showers, not wanting Barnes to realize you were listening the whole time. Apologize, he said. Apologize for what? You've known him for a whole of four days and he's been nothing but polite to you. Cold, at first, but he warms upon acquaintance. And then he's downright sweet.

So sweet, you realize, for someone so damaged. He has every right to hate the world, and though he walks through it with a healthy dose of cynicism, he never lets that cynicism touch you. If anything, he's outright positive around you, an undeserving brat. A kid, really, though you don't like when he calls you that. You know you can be naive, positive on the verge of artificiality, and yet he never tries to burst your bubble. In fact, he seems to relish it.

The shower feels nice, but it does nothing to assuage your fears. Maybe it's you who has done something wrong? Now you're spiraling. You have to find out what's going on or it's going to drive you crazy.

You know what you have to do. You have just about seven minutes of invisibility before your shifting gives out. In those seven minutes, you can duck from the showers, sneak into Barnes' room, snoop around, and make it back to the showers unseen. Plenty of time. But you have to go nude. Now would be a great time for the suit, but no such luck. Naked it is.

Out in the hallway, all is quiet. Barnes' door is still ajar, but when you peek your head in, the room is empty.

Easy.

Where to start? His phone is a dead end, being one of those ancient flipping kinds rather than a new, high-tech smartphone. He has few personal belongings, the bed is made perfectly, and his closet contains only clothes.

The drawers of the nightstand are empty. Or nearly empty. At the back of the top drawer is unceremoniously shoved a small booklet with a pen stuck between the pages. It's worn and supple, as though held a thousand times and read a thousand more. You flip through, finding a list of names, some crossed out, others not. Your name does not appear, but something about the list tells you these are not ordinary names. These are the names of his victims, people Barnes hurt as the Winter Soldier. Your heart aches and your stomach clenches, the reminder of his past jarring against the kind demeanor you've come to know. But deep down, you know this isn't him, know he's a good man, despite it all.

You know better than most the first-hand horrors of Hydra's super-soldier experiments. Of anyone, you can relate best to the experience Barnes has been through. Your memories of that long week are blurry, but the pain remains, forever seared into your mind. You can only imagine a lifetime of that pain.

The sound of the door opening jolts you from your reverie and you close the drawer quickly. But you soon realize your mistake. Barnes would know he left the door open, would know exactly how he placed his book in the drawer, would recognize something was off. Unfortunately, you're right.

"Hello?" he calls into the darkening room. The evening is coming on fast and the sun dims to barely glimmer, casting the space in shadow despite the large windows on the south wall.

Bucky knows something is off the moment he finds your room unoccupied, having gone there with the express purpose of confronting you about his actions earlier in the afternoon. And though he has no way of truly knowing, he suspects you are now here, in this room with him, invisible to his gaze. Bucky shuts the door behind him and waits.

You're trapped. You don't have long before your powers give out; already the suffocating feeling that begs you to take a breath is coming on. And Barnes has closed the door, effectively sealing you in, as you can't open it without him knowing for sure that you're here. On top of that, you're clothingless. You've run out of options and Barnes seems to sense this. So, he waits, drawing out the moment of tension, building the suspense.

"I know you're here," he says finally, his voice soft and barely audible. "You can't hide that well. Next time, dry your feet off before you go leaving wet footprints all over the place."

Oops.

"I--" you begin, and immediately Barnes' eyes snap to where your voice originates from. "I'm sorry. I overheard your conversation with Rogers. I shouldn't have but I know it was about me."

Barnes sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, you're right. I have some things to explain. Though I'd much prefer talking to you if I could see you."

You hesitate. "Only a slight problem there. I'm not wearing any clothes."

If it had been any lighter in the room you would have seen Barnes blush. Instead, you watch him pull his shirt over his head. He hands it to you blindly, the shirt off his own back, soft with wear and long enough to cover the tops of your thighs. It smells of him, salty with sweat and sweet with the scent you've come to recognize only as him. You shrug it on and shift back.

"I'm sorry," you say again, having trouble concentrating with Barnes' bare chest at your eye level. Is that an old bullet wound on his shoulder? The reminder of a knife across his stomach? You can't look away, even at the seam where man meets metal.

Barnes shakes his head. "No, I should be the one apologizing."

He pauses for a moment and tries to begin several times before finally forming a complete sentence.

"It's my fault you're like this, that Hydra tested on you. It was me who kidnapped you, it was me who followed orders, it was me who completed the mission and got you hurt. And I'm so sorry."

You're so frozen in shock that the absurdity of the situation doesn't even register. There's nothing under this shirt, no underwear, no pants, no bra. And here you are standing in the bedroom of your greatest inspiration, listening to him apologize for being the one that facilitated your kidnapping, for being responsible for all the injury, the pain, the nightmares, the isolation, the...

It all comes flooding back, the things you had forgotten, or simply chose to not remember, and one of those things is his face.

You thought you'd dealt with impact. So many hours with a therapist, and you realize all you did was suppress the feelings, not confront them. And then you break, all the anger and sadness and frustration flowing from you at once.

"You piece of shit." Your voice begins as a whisper but soon amplifies nearly to a shout. "You monster, you bastard, how could you? How could you?"

All this time you forgave him for the damage he'd done, excused it as brainwashing and manipulation from Hydra. But now that it's you he's involved, you have somewhere to direct your anger, and you take it out as a shove straight to his chest.

He didn't expect that one. The words he understood. He accepted those, accepted that you would hate him forever. But then you're pushing and hitting him with all your force. Barnes could fight back, could hold his ground. But you need this, so he lets you shove him into the wall with a newfound strength. Finally against the wall, with nowhere left to go, you turn to pummelling his chest with your fists, repeating the words over and over, how could you, how could you, how could you.

For a moment, he lets it happen. But eventually, Barnes reacts, grabbing your wrists and holding them to his chest in an attempt to calm the fury that rages inside you. Surprisingly, at his touch, you still, slumping against him once the anger is replaced with nothing but sadness. That anger, one you never truly realized you'd harbored since your capture, bled from you all at once, leaving you exhausted.

You don't notice you're crying until a soft thumb wipes a tear from your cheek. Barnes releases your hands and wraps his arms around your sobbing body, pulling you close. "I'm so sorry," he repeats in your ear, his words a whisper against the rage inside your head.

Is it hours, or only minutes, standing like that, wrapped up in him, his skin so soft against your cheek? Time has ceased to exist, melting into the nighttime that encompasses the room in near pitch-black darkness. Your breath calms, your heart rate slows, the tears dry. He's only a man, a broken, misplaced, lost man. But he's also impossibly kind to you, caring enough to train you day after day, to pick you up when you fall down, to ensure you're happy here at all times. That's the man you know and rest your cheek against and seek out for comfort in this moment, despite him being the reason for your anger. But he's not truly the reason for your anger, only an easy outlet standing right before you.

This is not how Bucky had expected this to go. Perhaps to never see you again, yes. But to hold you in his arms, certainly not. And not just hold you, but comfort you. It surprises him how much he finds he likes it. And he can't ignore the fact that you're here in his room, wearing his shirt and only his shirt. He doesn't try anything improprietous, just wraps his arms around your waist, but it's not lost on him that your supple chest is pressed against him and the delicious scent from your still wet hair is filling his brain with a flowery cloud. His stomach clenches at the thought of burying his face in that smell for the rest of the night but he pushes it aside. That's not why you're here. That's not what you want.

But your next words surprise him. You pull slightly away, tilting your splotchy face upward towards his to look him in the eye. You take a ragged breath and speak.

"I forgive you."

Bucky is taken aback. That's not why he made this confession, not to seek your forgiveness. "You don't have to do that."

"I know. But I do. And I know you think I'm just a kid--"

Barnes lets out a short laugh, cutting you off immediately. "Jesus Christ, that's not true. You're not a kid. You're smart and strong and capable. And you've seen the ugly world for its true self and choose to remain good and happy all the same. I'm not like that and that makes you wiser than I'll ever be."

He takes a deep breath, unsure if he should admit to the feelings he desperately wants to express to you. The way you're looking at him, with a mixture of hesitation and admiration, makes the words tumble from his mouth without a second thought.

"But somehow being around you makes me want to be good again. Not for my sake, but for yours."

"James, I--" You've never used his first name before, but it falls deliciously from your lips, the sound of it nearly distracting him from the finger you run across the stubble on the cleft of his chin. Nearly. He captures that hand in his own, holding it there against his face.

"You don't have to forgive me. I don't deserve it," he repeats, eyes falling shut to the feeling of your thumb pressed to the corner of his lips. He still holds you close, the other arm wrapping tight around you, and though verbally he rejected the comfort your warmth offered, his body says otherwise, desperate for the acceptance his brain refuses to give into.

"Stop punishing yourself," you whisper. For a moment, he almost feels that he could.

And when your lips find his, soft and delicate, he forgets why you're even here in the first place, forgets his guilt and your anger, forgets even to react.

His lack of response has you pulling away, worried you've done something wrong, but then he's chasing your lips with his own, leaning forward to meet you halfway, gathering you impossibly tighter to his chest. He pauses, mouth mere centimeters from yours, eyes still shut, a deep breath heaving from his chest. He wants more, wants to kiss you again in all the places that count, but he can't quite yet.

"What was that for?" The question's not an accusatory one but simply curious. Have you always looked at him in this light since day one? Has he just not noticed?

"Are you blind, Barnes?"

He laughs and shakes his head. "None of that last name shit, doll, we've moved on to a first-name basis."

But your words are enough to surge him forward, this time capturing your lips in a dominating kiss that leaves you gasping for air. He takes advantage of your open mouth and presses his tongue to yours, seeking to fill his soul with your all-consuming warmth, to wrap it around him like a cocoon of your scent. His fingers slide down your back and slip under the shirt you wear, his shirt, grasping at the bare skin of your ass, filling his hands with your supple flesh.

You moan softly under his touch, relishing in the feeling of being encompassed by someone so large and so strong. The vibranium arm, which you expected to be harshly indelicate against your relative fragility, caresses you with the same gentility of the other. The intense contact sends your heart racing like it did all the times you were pinned below him on the sparring mat. Will he pin you like that in bed? Hold you down while he fucks you within an inch of your life?

The thought rouses a heat between your legs and stirs butterflies in your tummy. You don't even know if that's where this is going, but it invades your brain anyways. You're sure Barnes can feel your racing pulse beneath his lips when he kisses your neck, sending your nerves haywire as he creeps toward the neckline of your shirt. He inhales your scent, the hot air of his breath fanning your cool skin.

Everything about this is sloppy, the wet kisses dragged across your skin, his tongue tangled with yours, your fingers tugging at the hair that brushes the nape of his neck. Even his hips against yours are messy and rough, the heat of him leaving your core feeling slick, the wetness of it rubbing between your naked thighs. And then Barnes is sliding his hands back up your body, this time under your shirt, and tugging it over your head, his lips leaving your skin just long enough to toss the item to the ground.

You expect him to keep surging forward, to lift you in his arms and take you to bed like you want him to. But he pauses instead, hands cradling the back of your head, his eyes staring intensely into yours. Or you think he's staring into your eyes.

"Are you okay? Is this okay?" His voice is full of concern but raspy with arousal all the same.

"Yes, James, yes, I need more."

"Well, I would, it's just that you've disappeared on me again." One look at your hands and you know he was looking right through you, not at you. The swirl of emotions--pleasure, arousal, timidity even--sent you shifting without your knowledge. You can't help but laugh.

"Let me see you, doll," he groans, sounding exasperated that he can't rake his gaze across your naked flesh or find all the places he wants to touch you because they're invisible.

"You first."

A heated understanding lights up his eyes, still vibrant in the darkness of the room. Slowly, he releases his grip on you, relenting to not knowing where you are in space. You take an invisible step back to get a better view of the specimen before you. With one hand, he unbuckles his belt, sliding the leather from his pants and dropping it to the floor with a thunk. And then his pants are gone and he's left in his boxers, tight against the bulging muscles of his thighs.

And other bulging things. He doesn't hide his attraction to you. But still, you do not reappear.

Bucky begins to worry you're never going to, that maybe he's taken things too for. But then, a soft finger trails across his neck and he jerks in surprise. You're tracing the plain of his chest with a feather-light touch, dipping into the indent between his collarbones, feeling along the puckered scar of a bullet wound and the long slice of a knife. He feels healed beneath your touch, but it's not enough to satisfy the insatiable hunger building in the tightness of his groin. This entire evening has been a long, drawn-out, build-up of tension, and if he doesn't release it soon, it will snap like an overstretched rubber band.

He makes his move.

Apparently, Bucky's senses are just as perceptive here as they are on the sparring mat. His metal hand shoots up and wraps around the wrist of the hand on his chest, despite being unable to see it. The other reaches out and grapples at your invisible body in the dark, somehow finding your waist. He doesn't need to see you to manage to flip you around and press your back against his chest. In your surprise, your invisibility falters, and you flicker out of your shifted form with a flustered squeak, one hand suddenly pinned between your back and Bucky's rock-hard chest.

He holds on with an iron grip and walks you toward the bed, holding you up to prevent you from tripping in your ruffled state.

"You're taking too long, doll," he mumbles into your ear, and you feel his chest rumble with the vibrations. Your free hand flies to the one around your waist, which is slowly creeping upward toward your breast to twist at the sensitive nipple. "I know you like it when I pin you on the sparring floor. I can see it in your eyes. I'll take you like that right now if you give me the word."

Fuck, you want nothing more but you can't breathe enough to get the words out, opting for nodding vigorously instead. But Bucky wants words, gently prodding you forward to get a verbal commitment out of you. He will never take you against your will again. So you manage a long, drawn-out please and suddenly you're face-first in the sheets, bent halfway at the waist, your ass grinding against the delicious bulge pressed against your aching cunt. It pleases you that he has been thinking the same wicked thoughts as you when he slams you to the mat over and over again in training.

Bucky pulls your arm out from underneath you, joining it with the other and holding them together with his metal fist at your lower back, forcing your chest further into the mattress and your ass higher in the air. There's no way for you to move, no matter how hard you try. But you don't try, won't try. Bucky has you right where you want to be.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmurs in your ear and you breathe an affirmation. His teeth nibble suddenly at your ear lobe and you squirm, the sensation of his breath fanning your skin sending goosebumps along the trail of kisses he leaves down your spine. Somehow, you know this is only the calm before the storm, the gentle caresses of a man who's about to rearrange every organ in your body, all the way up to your heart if you aren't careful.

It doesn't matter to you that it's pitch black in the room; you wouldn't have been able to see anything with your face shoved into the comforter, even if the lights were on. But Bucky's starting to regret having left the lights off, wishing he could better see the curve of your hips, the swell of your thighs, or the bloom of his handprint on your ass when his hand comes down with a smack. He resigns to being satisfied by the mewling gasp that escapes your lips and your soft pleas to Do it again, harder.

So he does. Smack.

And then he's sinking to his knees and you can tell because he leaves a wet stripe of skin with his tongue over the globe of your ass and blows a shock of cool air across the rawness of your skin.  He replaces the sting of his hand with the bite of his teeth and then a kiss to soothe you again. The rollercoaster of sensations has you moaning against the mattress and rocking your hips toward his face and Barnes chuckles at your movement, your actions giving away the desperation you feel to have his tongue move to more sensitive places.

He is happy to oblige. You hadn't even noticed you'd been squeezing your thighs together until he slid a hand up between them, forcing them apart. It's a blessing your legs aren't doing any work to keep you up anymore because they feel like jelly under his touch. The hand between your thighs moves higher still until you feel his thumb pressed to your sensitive clit, warm and twitching with anticipation, desire coursing through your veins and dripping from your wet cunt. Your ears barely register that he's speaking, the blood is pumping so hard in your ears, but his words are exalting.

"Look at you, so wet for me." The hand around your wrists tightens just slightly. You are surprised by the extreme control he has over the cool metal fingers, and you almost wish he'd use those on you instead. And then he says, "you like it, don't you, doll, being at my mercy," and you forget all about the arm and decide it doesn't matter what hand presses down with a gentle strength on your clit as long as he doesn't stop. And he doesn't. Doesn't move, doesn't flinch or twitch or falter, just holds steady until your gasping mewls die down just enough for you to say, "yes, all for you, all for you, all..."

With those words, his thumb slips, between your slick folds into your pussy, finding the soft spongy flesh and pressing down again and you cry out with a careening moan that tapers off into a silent sob. He's taking his time, picking you apart, pulling at the laces that bind you together, and undoing them to release the tension he knows you harbor. But what about him? Is it not torture for him?

You breathe in a rough gasp, enough to squeak out a few more words. "I thought we were going too slow for you."

He laughs, he actually laughs, at your words, but relents.

"I hear you, doll."

I hear you. Oh wow. His tongue replaces his finger and you lose all coherence, able only to blubber some iteration of his name as the smooth muscle traces circles around your clit, finally allowing your orgasm to build with a steady contraction in your pelvis. Barnes moans between your legs like he's never tasted chocolate or buttercream or any of those other wondrous flavors and there's only you. And that moan sends you overboard, the vibrations diffusing down your legs and you tremble into your first orgasm. Your first orgasm.

He keeps going, riding out the waves of your high until you're crying that it's too much, James, too much and he pulls his tongue away from your oversensitized clit only to move down your legs. He's working you up again, teasing the smooth skin of your inner thigh with gentle nips and kisses until your body is craving release again, your cunt clenching around nothing but the memory of his mouth. He is deliberate in his ministrations, methodical in the way he must be with his missions. The flood of your first orgasm has dripped steadily down your thigh and he cleans you with his tongue, dragging upward along the sticky trail of your musky release until his tongue makes contact again and he pulls an orgasm from your desperate body once more.

He still hasn't released your arms.

"You know how long I've wanted to do this?" he groans, as you shudder again into the pleasure of his touch. He kisses back up the length of your spine while you twitch under him, his free hand dragging shock wave after shock wave from your cunt. It strikes you that this man is truly 106, not 26 like his body suggests, and you absentmindedly wonder if that's why he's so good at it, that he's had years to practice. And then his cock is pressing against your folds and you forget the notion halfway through thinking it. "You're so good to me doll, so good for opening up for me. Wanna feel your tight pussy around me."

You push backward, or do your best to without the employment of your arms, wanting desperately to feel him inside you. He is warm and all-encompassing and part of you thinks his cock spilling his seed inside of you would complete you like nothing else. But you know that's a bad idea and you can hear him already unwrapping a condom (where did he get that from?) and your body trembles with the anticipation. You haven't even seen him yet but you know he must be big, the way he grunts when the tip of his erection teases your entrance.

When he enters you it isn't gentle like the stroke of his tongue. It splits you open with a rough thrust, the laces of your heart fully undone and releasing you from their confinement. You choke on your own air.

And then he's releasing your arms, and before you can react, Barnes has you lifted, your back to his chest, your knees shoved roughly into the mattress so he can stand and fuck you from behind. The metal arm finds your neck and forces your head back, his lips dragging hot against your soft skin and muttering filthy praise into your ear, his hand gently on your throat to hold you there. Your hands fly to his, not to pull him away, but to convince him to squeeze, just a little bit harder. The pressure is grounding, and then the hand around your waist is trailing toward the bud of your clit and rubbing in urgent circles and you let out a silent gasp as he thrusts into you at a pace astounding for the position you're in.

You come hard, over his hand, around his cock, and for the first time Barnes falters, stunned by the intensity with which you clamp around him and if he hadn't made you come two times already he might have held out a bit longer to pull another one of those stunning orgasms from your slick cunt. But you're sagging, using him to hold you up against the exhaustion of repeated abuse so he releases, riding the wave of pleasure you started. Bucky groans out your name, surprising you with the gentleness of it on his tongue despite the rough hand around your neck.

When he releases you softly back onto the bed, you sink heavily into the mattress, feeling high on pleasure and drunk on his hands. He pulls away and shuffles around the room, and if you had had any energy left you might have complained at the loss of him but as it sits nothing will rouse you from the intense desire to simply fall asleep.

He continues to move about and then... the lights go on? You groan at the harsh treatment of your eyes as they adjust. But Barnes returns and pulls you against him and apologizes for the rude awakening.

"Sorry, doll," he mutters. "Wanted to get a better look at you." His fingers glide along your back and his face nuzzles into the top of your head, breathing into your hair as you press your forehead into his chest. Despite being exhausted himself he trails his hands all over your body, exploring the side of you that has been shoved into the sheets for the better part of the evening. You let him, although your nerves feel fried and oversensitive to touch.

"Watch what you do with those hands," you giggle as his fingertips brush over a nipple, "unless you're ready to go again."

"Already looking forward to next time?"

"You wish," you tease, but already you know for certain that there will be a next time.

[lesbiannancytruther]

vampire werewolf moment

okay so here im gonna explain specifically vampires/werewolves and how this impacts the characters bc it does different things to them based on my (tentative) explanation as to why any of this happened in the first place

so vampires! i decide which parts of typical vampire canon to adhere to bc some of it is lame, like turning pale?? no way. silver weakness?? HELL YEAH angst. okay so basics: these vampires have enhances strength/speed/senses, can tell when people are lying to them, and are basically supernaturally convincing (kinda charmspeak kinda not). they have retractable fangs that come out either by will or on instinct (when frightened/hungry), they run much colder than humans, their blood is like a freakishly bright red, and their eyes are like... idk how to explain this but brighter?? they’re hard to ignore is what im saying. vampire skin is not impenetrable but it’s hard to get through without excessive force or silver (or werewolf teeth..........). weaknesses wise there’s silver, being hungry/malnourished is like way worse for vampires (tis a curse after all), and the sun, which doesn’t make them combust immediately it just fucking burns and makes them super dizzy and weak and uncomfortable. umbrellas help but they’re not perfect. also weird fact if u show a vmpire their reflection (which they have) they’ll be transfixed and distracted, using their own strength (being supernaturally sexy) against them :(

elaborating on the malnourishment/diet part- vampires absolutely still drink blood. human blood, no going around it, animal blood makes them sick. this is a huge curse. luckily, you don’t have to kill someone when u drink their blood, but its easy to lose focus and accidentally take too much (fun fact both nancy and eddie have done this in this au). there’s a level of self control to resisting feeding during every day interactions with people, but it’s almost impossible to ignore spilled blood. when malnourished, it’s difficult to do much of anything, just moving around/keeping up conversation is a chore, let alone being a vampire. if a vampire is wounded while hungry, it will not heal until they feed, which will then cause it to heal at an accelerated rate. if unfed long enough a vampire could be so out of it that they can’t bring themselves to drink more and they become sort of a husk, but this takes a LONG time, since vampires don’t need to feed as much as humans (probably once a week??). vampires can eat human food but it doesn’t do much for them other than exist kinda

also idk if they can turn into bats like i want them to so bad bc aw but like it doesn’t make crazy sense? but also realism doesn’t matter these r fake gay people... we shall see...

okay this post is so long def gonna have to get into character specifications in a diff one omg

werewolves! okay werewolves r kinda crazy. part of these rules are inspired by @dxringred ‘s werewolf!robin au (which u should absolutely check out if u haven’t its one of the reasons i love this site so much) mainly bc i entirely agree that lycanthropy should be a curse!! but it’s not as heartbreaking bc even i can’t write that many ouch moments. basically, full moon changes werewolves into MASSIVE wolves and i mean massive like yeah twilight wolf type stuff like they r giant, strong, and very much wild animals. unlike their au though there’s not like an insane bloodlust/need to kill murder destroy, they just run entirely on instinct. in my mind these werewolves don’t think clearly, but they’re still themselves to some degree, like they still love the people they love, but they also superhate the people they hate. they don’t listen to any sort of commands, are reckless, fiercely protective and territorial, and do what they want, which is sometimes maiming people who make them angry <3 they’re also very likely to get themselves hurt as they don’t do things like look both ways before they cross the street. on the change, it hurts like a bitch and when they change back they get something of a wicked hangover, it’s a very uncomfortable and vulnerable state.

im kinda doing this entry in reverse but in normal every day lives werewolves have a few abilities, which shift in strength depending on the moon phases. during the day all of these abilities are weaker, but the closer to the full moon one is, the stronger they are. werewolves in their normal form have enhanced senses/strength/speed, which are very faint near the new moon but genuinely useful near the full moon. werewolves are very fast healers and can recover from a lot. werewolves are supernaturally intimidating, able to make themselves look bigger and meaner and scarier at will. they run hotter than normal people, and have supernatural resistance to all sorts of harsh climates and temperatures (yeah robin gives nancy her jacket in this au all the time so what). they can track people who’s scents they’re familiar with and can note changes in emotion in scents (like fear). and YEAH, they’re tall and strong, bc werewolves r awesome and r sex appeal incarnate. weakness wise there’s also silver, which burns the skin and makes it much harder for them to regenerate from wounds, they supernaturally lack impulse control (robin absolutely decks people in this au against her better judgement sometimes), and a lot of them deal with chronic pain from the shift every month, which the human (sorta) body is not meant to go through. (okay small character insert nancy absolutely uses her cold hands to help robin the day after the full moon, sometimes just placing her cool hands over robin’s eyes when she’s dealing with a migraine.) say it w me now, these r curses!!! most of the time they r not fun.

okay capping this one off here but this is not over >:(

[bestruction]

How it’d be to watch animes with them

A/N: While i’m working on my Mikasa x reader royal au, this little idea came to my mind. I tried to put the links when i mentioned a specific scene and speak a little about the anime in case you don’t know it.  So here it’s: 

Warnings: Me exposing my otaku self, mentions of 18+ animes (Not hentais) 

Eren -  Kaguya-sama wa Kokurasetai: Tensai-tachi no Renai Zunousen (13+)

A / N: The main characters like each other, but none wants to confess because being the person who takes the first step would also represent being the defeated person. The anime develops in a series of plans that both elaborate to make the other confess their love.

Warnings: None

It was his idea to watch an anime together since the two of you liked it a lot. You saw no harm and agreed to go to sleep with your boyfriend on Friday night. So, you would have the dawn and the weekend to see everything.

“We could watch One piece! Everybody likes"

“In three days ?! We will not finish even if we do not take breaks ”

"Naruto then?"

“Haven't you seen it all five times or more?

"But it is a classic!"

"It is also too long!"

He would sulk when he saw you reject each of his suggestions for being too big animes. The truth was, he was trying to convince you to stay longer. After much searching in the catalog, you choose to watch a short comedy of 12 episodes.

Biggest mistake ever

Eren is already annoying by nature, and after watching Kaguya-sama's two seasons he would spend the day and night trying to get you to confess to him EVEN IF YOU'VE BEEN IN LOVE FOR TWO YEARS AND HE HAS BEEN THE FIRST TO DECLARE. HIT HIM, PLEASE.

"Do you think that using such a low trick will make me give in?"

“Eren, I just got out of the shower. What trick? Wear an outfit? ”

“Showing off your skin won't make you win”

If you wanted to play with him, great. You are going to spend the day in this little game until he gets tired and just hugs you or something because he can't spend a lot of time without touching you. But if you didn't want to, just you could use that touchy side of him against him too.

"Maybe I shouldn't show you anything else then"

"Yes, of course, do- Wait what?"

"You heard"

“NO, BABE! YOU WON! I CONFESS! I LOVE YOU"

Watching anime with him would be quite an experience. For being very verbal, Eren would be the type of person who doesn't shut up watching anything. Especially, something that makes him laugh. You would see him laughing out loud and throwing himself back on the couch or on you, whether you were with him or not. You may even complain, but it would be fun to see him react to everything as immediately and naturally as an unfiltered child.

He will sing ALL the openings for the rest of the days around the house until you are humming some without realizing it.

For some reason, can I imagine him doing Chika dance ?? Yes, please film this big bear dancing like a little girl.

Levi - Death parade 

A / N: Do you want to cry and hurt yourself? This is the right place. Death Parade is a story about what happens after death. The characters are sent to mysterious bars where they will be judged to decide the fate of the souls themselves. (18+)

Warnings: Suicide, depressive themes, mentions of rape and domestic violence

I don't see Levi watching many animes. In fact, I don't see him watching much anything at all. He would be the type of person who can't spend a lot of time in front of the television without feeling like he's wasting time. Which would result in a very selective and demanding taste.

He would always read the reviews about the film, and after watching it, he would make his own. Ever. No exceptions. Unlike Impossible-to-be-quiet-Eren, Levi would be silent to be able to capture and understand all the details. This is interesting because getting his attention is a difficult task. But once it's done, he is 100% focused on the story and immersed in the characters.

So, after reading about it, he would agree to watch Death Parade with you.

He would have low expectations at first, and if the anime failed to hold his very difficult attention in three episodes, he wouldn't even try with the rest.

So when in the first episode, all suspense and doubts left to the viewer entered Ackerman's head, he would finish the other 11 without realizing it.

As a rational person, he would love things that make him think and reflect on the proposed theme. In the case: Life and death.

For some reason, I imagine him as someone who would like to study and read philosophy as a hobby and that he would love Nietzsche? So, you could expect deep conversations after each episode.

But without any arrogance, humanity's strongest soldier might not be the most talkative man in humanity, but surely when he opened his mouth to it, it wouldn’t be to show himself off with something that he knows and you don’t. On the contrary, he would be more than happy to explain if you asked and added your opinion.

He wouldn't cry, but he would be touched by the way the emotions were shown and created in the characters.

He would probably see the scene where Decim cries more than once for being impressed with how the pain of a character who is supposedly not flesh and blood is expressed so well.

And after the anime is over, you would always see him listening to the music of the ice skating scene around the house while doing something.

When you were finished watching everything, you would talk again about the anime. You lying on his chest and he touching his hair, smelling him.

"Do you believe in reincarnation, Levi?"

“If so, I wouldn't go back to this shit a second time. No matter what they offered me ”

"Levi!"

"Unless it was to have you again"

“What a cliché” He would roll his eyes after hearing your response “But I like clichés”

Again, he wouldn't cry, but he would be thinking about how ephemeral things can be, including being alive. Then you can expect a more touchy Levi for a few days.

Jean - Banana Fish 

N / A: Another one to cry and get hurt. Banana Fish is way more than just a story about one character just is hard to define. So in case, you didn’t watch it, here’s the trailer. (18+)

warnings: pedophilia, rape, violence, drugs, your heart being destroyed

You know that guy who says that no yaoi is good, it's just a way to feed a bunch of fujoshi and stuff like that? Jean. It's him. I just know it. So when you suggested Banana Fish and said it was a BL / yaoi, he would probably laugh and ignore the idea.

But after insisting a little and showing him the many compliments that both the anime and the manga received, he would accept.

At first, he wouldn't pay much attention. He really thought it would be just another bad anime. But by the end of the first episode, he would be too involved in the story to stop.

I think he would love crime novels for the same reason that Levi: To think. Try to find out how things are going to end and pick up any clues that the author has left about the ending. So the plot would hold him so much because he would make a ton of theories about the end.

He will ship Ash and Eiji with all his soul. I mean, how can he not ship? To see an anime in which the physical touch between the couple doesn't really happen and still builds a well-developed and healthy relationship would be a new experience for him.

Jean is somewhat similar to Eren in this respect. So you can expect to see him huffing in anger, cursing one of the characters, throwing a pillow away, or using it to hide a tear or two that he would let go of you. The kind of person who gets emotionally involved with the things he watches.

He would cry an entire river after watching the last episode and deny it later.

“I was not crying. The cushion fabric made my eyes itch a lot ”

Show him again and he will cry the same amount and intensity

Armin - Haikyuu

A / N: Considering all the texts on Tumblr for haikyuu characters, I’m pretty sure you know what anime it’s lol (10+)

Armin is an otaku with a license card and no one can change my mind. He would probably start watching it as a child. So, his first animes would be everyone's classics: Naruto, Dragon Ball Z, Bleach, etc.

So it would be normal that as the vast majority, he would continue to have a preference for shounen when he grew up. So it would be your idea to see Haikyuu.

He would have low expectations because he thought it would be just another anime with cute characters for everyone to be thirsty as an inverted harem. And also because the synopsis does not create a strong impression, especially for those who consume shounen daily.

"So we are just gonna see a little boy trying to catch a ball?"

“It's gonna be good! Everyone is talking about it now ”

"Does he have some superpower?"

"No"

"Something scary?"

"Armin, just give a chance!"

He would like it. Did I say he would like it? Because he would love it. The atmosphere created and well developed with such a simple plot would hold his attention well. (Is it possible to dislike Hinata in the first episode?)

It would be a great anime for him to watch because 1. It is different from what he usually sees. Unlike shounen, Haikyuu deals only with real and tangible scenarios. Of course, still with that touch of anime, but it is very easy to recognize yourself in the characters and learn from them and therefore reflect on yourself as well.

It would be great to make him think about his own insecurities and how most of them were inside his head.

He would be so immersed in the anime universe that he would have to pause the game scenes because he would be too nervous waiting for the ball to fall.

You will probably see him taking a deep breath in each drawing scene of the characters and see him truly cheering for the team as if it were a real national game.

More than that, you will see his eyes full of tears when Yamaguchi hit the serve in the match against Aoba johsai.

In fact, Yamaguchi would be his favorite character. No discussions.

"I said it would be good"

"Shut up"

"Make me"

Mikasa - Heaven’s official blessing 

A / N: I'm going to leave the trailer here because I don't know how to define it very well. It's a novel, but the story doesn't focus ONLY on that. (14+)

Okay, you didn't suggest. She did not suggest. So how do you end up watching together? You catch her watching when you come home by surprise lol

Until then, you would know that she watched some anime, but nothing romantic. Never. In fact, that was her little secret.

Although common sense is that Mikasa would be cold even in a modern au (and I agree in parts). I think she would be the type of person who loves to see the sweetest and softest things to melt alone on the couch without anyone seeing. A moment for herself and a part of her that she would not show to anyone.

You would already know about her romantic side, but seeing her under the covers sighing while watching the Netflix special episode is a totally different story.

Please don’t mock her!!. She would be red enough by the time she was discovered.

When she was less shy, she would ask if you want to watch with her. She would say she saw no problem watching it with you again since doing it with you would be a different experience.

If you accept, you would spend the rest of the night in the room sharing a blanket and absorbing the soft atmosphere, the soundtrack, and the Chinese culture so present in history.

She would not speak a lot because she was paying attention, but she would hug you all the time. In the romantic scenes, she would tighten her arms around you a little and sometimes left a kiss on your shoulder.

I think she could relate to Hua Cheng's way of loving. He is always there to protect, care for and see his lover even if sometimes Xie Lian doesn't even know.

And that is what she wants to show you, that more than a girlfriend, she is also someone you can count on.

Days later, you will see her reading the rest of the work around the house because she couldn't stand to wait for a second season.

And later, SURELY melting and vibrating while watching Mo Dao Zu Shi.

[dorimena]

That ask you got about Shoto being soft : an Absolute meal.

Please, could you please write what happens after ? Like, it’s not going to be the first time he watches his reflection with a pout in the mirror. He’s always been lean thanks to training and also his dad overly controlling his diet in the past. So, now that his body is soft?

When you fuck him, his thighs jiggle a bit. His butt bounces if you spank him. It always did, but now even more so. When you have him tied to a chair,naked, his tummy is adorable, the little fold in it is biteable and for some reason, it becomes even more sensitive.

The softness of his body somehow accentuates how more sensitive he is now.

But, he always needs the reassurance that you still think he’s pretty. That’s he’s still your beautiful boy.. Maybe he even asks you if you mind ? Maybe after he recovers and he asks you if you want him back as he used to be. ( because he actually liked how your fingers sank more in him now , the way you praised a little more to ease his worries and the self conscious way he held himself sometimes. But , he would go train more, ask his mum to stop being pastries, if that is what you wanted. He’d do anything for you and to make sure you still want him)

+ (imagine him crying a little when praised)

Of course I could! (✯◡✯)

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; Todoroki Shoto

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 1.8k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; Soft!Todoroki, fluff, a sex scene, insecurities, implied praise (sexual and non-sexual), bondage (in the sex scene), proclamation of love (kinda), reassurance, cuddles, cursing, dom!reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; aged-up character, Todoroki is 20+

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; I hope you like it! I kind of kept coming in and out of some weird writer’s block, so the ending might seem a bit rushed. This isn’t proofread yet!

Also! Shoutout to @buckybabyboyzzz for unintentionally helping me with this, because some ideas in this fic come from our conversation about soft!shoto, and by our conversation I mean me receiving their ideas about soft!shoto ヽ(*・ω・)ﾉ

𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊, 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊 (𝖘𝖆𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊)

You knew fucking him and kissing him everywhere wouldn’t be enough for him to feel secure. It’s illogical to think he wouldn’t go back to the mirror and stare at himself again, with that mean, insecure gaze set on his tummy, on his hips, on his thighs.

You know he’s struggling to accept his new body, and it’s showing with how he’s suddenly becoming more conscious of his cravings, of the servings (which are one of the few things that haven’t changed), of the food being placed on the table (again, another of the few things that haven’t changed.)

He asked you, in such a small, low tone, about what you think made him put on weight. And you couldn’t even lie, not when he’s staring at you with so much trust, awaiting your honesty, knowing you’re not going to be mean or rude about it.

And with such a smooth voice, you tell him that maybe the amount of times he’s snacking and lack of permission to be able to burn off the calories would have contributed. 

And you waited for him to react, to maybe cry, to get angry with himself, to maybe go back to the mirror to check and agree that you’re right.

Instead, he nods and snuggles closer next to you, hugging you close to him as you both continue to watch another one of Midoriya’s movie recommendations, considering how behind Shoto apparently still is with the whole movie culture situation. He just found out where the ‘I am your father’ reference comes from and he’s never felt so happy.

Okay that’s a lie, you fucking him more times after the first has made him feel so much joy and makes him feel so desired and needed.

But, it’s not enough to ease his insecurities and new thoughts away.

You come back from work one day, concerned over how quiet the house is.

The TV isn’t on.

The radio isn’t either.

You don’t even hear the shower.

You thought maybe he’s napping, because poor baby’s still catching up with sleep, but he’s nowhere.

You don’t really panic, but you’re worried.

Maybe he went to the office for something? But he usually texts you when he’s on his way.

Maybe the doctor called for a checkup? But the appointment isn’t until next week.

You can’t really come up for another reason why he wouldn’t be home, but you decide to simply text him to come home soon and safely, telling him you brought some take-away pasta.

About an hour later he returns, all sweaty yet glowing with joy.

Curious, you ask him about the sudden change in personality, as he was gloomy since a few days ago.

He tells you how he called the doctor and asked if it’s possible he could go on long walks and possible morning or evening jogs, to which the doctor gave him the thumbs up and off Shoto went to do some errands, even paying a visit to Midoriya’s house.

He went to take a shower, not before handing you a bag of what appears to be some new workout clothes.

But, his clothes still fit and look fine on him?

Shoto wouldn’t agree, doesn’t, not with how tight his sweatpants feel around his thighs, how you can easily tell where he’s put on weight when even trying to cover up with a hoodie.

And seeing the new clothes in the bag made you upset, if not a bit angry. 

You’re trying your best to understand, but he does one thing and then the next does a complete 180°.

And that night when you’re both just kissing each other, you trying to suck up any moan or whine he makes, the moment you begin palming his dick he pulls away. Staring at you with a weird look in his eyes before turning around, mumbling a goodnight.

No, impossible. You’re not going to allow this!

So the next day when he comes home from another job, you call him from the bedroom, seductively lying on the bed as you play with the ropes.

With enough persuasion, seduction and sweet promises, you manage to tie Shoto to a kitchen chair that you brought into the room before he arrived.

And you’re on your knees, your hands slowly massaging up and down on his thighs while you kiss his stomach, nuzzling the skin before leaving some pretty hickies. 

Shoto’s shaking, eyes filling with tears but not because of pain or pleasure. He’s not sure why he suddenly feels so emotional, but his sniffling catches your attention.

You look up as your kisses go to the base of his dick, making him whimper as he tries to tell you to stop.

But he doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t want this to stop. He’s not sure why he’s so embarrassed (he does know) or why he’s trying to hide (he also knows). He moans your name, rolling his hips up because he wants you, he really, really wants you.

You're not done yet, but while you stroke him slowly, teasing his tip, biting and kissing his thighs, moaning your praise and singing your compliments, all while not breaking eye contact with him, not wanting any of your words going through one of his ears and out the other.

That night you ride him to oblivion, making him go through countless toe-curling orgasms as he fills you with so much cum, his soft cheeks so red you bite them gently, helping him stay grounded and not go stupid yet. 

It helps him think between orgasms about how even with all this attention, with you still desiring him and his body, it still doesn’t feel enough.

Once you’re both cleaned up and snuggled in bed, he has that weird look again, but you know what you have to do now.

You kiss him, so softly, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss, and once he pulls away, you whisper so happily how beautiful he looks, fixing his bangs to show his eyes better, tracing the bridge of his nose and softened jawline. 

And in the following mornings until the doctor’s appointment, you compliment how pretty he looks, how well the color of the new gym clothes look on him, how much warmer he feels whenever you hug him.

And once you hug him, it’s so hard for you to let go, to go to work after that. 

You just hope your love has oozed out of you and he managed to absorb it. Sounds weird, but you just want him to remember your promise that you’ll always love him no matter what.

The day of the appointment came and went within a blink of an eye, but Shoto’s been torn between worried and delighted. He can finally start going back to the gym! He can also take baby steps through his training, but he can also go on runs, just not for long periods.

He’s still forbidden from going to missions yet, but patrols are okay as long as he has sidekicks with him.

Yet, he’s worried about you. You’ve been silent all day, having accompanied him just in case. You aren’t ignoring him as far as he could tell, but you haven’t been your chirpy self, not even following much of his attempts at small talk.

Is this the moment you tell him you’re breaking up with him?

Okay, that sounds ridiculous, but he just wants to know you’re doing okay! He just wants to know everything you’ve done since he’s been homebound (kinda) until today wasn’t out of pity but genuine love and care.

So he sucks in some breath before asking you..

“Do you mind that I’ll be going back to the gym? Did, um, did you like me like this?”

He braces himself for the next question.

“Do you… Do you want me to stay like this? Would this make you happy?”

“Would it make you happy?”

You ask back softly, opening your arms to invite him for a hug, one he doesn’t hesitate to throw himself into, making you both land onto your bed. 

“You’re avoiding my question-” “I’m not! I’m not, Shoto. If working out to get back your body makes you happy, then go for it. I don’t care about your body. Okay, that sounded bad, let me rephrase that.”

You nervously laugh as you shift, making sure he’s comfortable as you try playing with his hair in such an awkward position.

“I love you, Shoto, very, very much. I love you because of your generosity, your kindness, your sometimes too brutal honesty, your unintentional jokes and weird humor, your confusion for such everyday normal things that you weren’t exposed to, your excitement that you fail hiding whenever we pass your favorite donut shop.

And your body during these times has made me live through one of the best experiences of my life! I got to spoil you in so many ways I wasn’t able to do before because of how busy you were. And I got to finally see a side of you no one else was able to see: you’re naturally sensitive, baby. Not in a sexual way, but in such a tender, sweet way that makes me just want to keep you away from every danger in the world.

Shoto, I saw the way your eyes lit up with the doctor’s words, and I’m glad he finally gave you the thumbs up.”

You sigh, frowning as you hold him closer.

“I know how mean you’ve been with yourself, how cruel the change was messing with your mind. I might not understand to a certain extent, but I just want you to know that I’m in no way against you going back to how you were. What I am against is you still being mean with yourself and possibly overworking yourself. Do you understand?”

He takes a while to shake his head, not knowing what you exactly mean but has a pretty good guess.

“What I mean is that you might push yourself too far and hurt yourself again. And if you hurt yourself again, the doctor might make you stay at home for who-knows how much longer and take away this opportunity you’ve probably been waiting for.”

He gasps, never having really thought about that. Yet-

“Do you want me like before?”

“Yes and no, Shoto. Yes, I want you like before because I’ll always want you, no matter what. No, I don’t want you like before because you’ll overwork yourself again and probably hurt yourself even worse next time.”

And with the conversation you both continue to have, many other topics are spoken about, helping Shoto come with his own conclusion that maybe he’ll stay soft like this for a little while longer, until he adapts back into a healthy recovery and workout routine. 

Actually, it’s only because he wants to bask in a bit more of your praise, in your reassurance, in your care as you help guide him back to his old lifestyle, all while slowly taking out certain things that you’ve both incorporated into your lives while he stayed at home.

Meaning next time his mother paid a visit, pastries, as much as they’re appreciated, will be politely declined.

[spockandawe]

This is an extremely half-formed thought, but today my mind has been circling the idea of shen jiu, redemption arcs, and why I don’t like thinking about his character in those terms. 

Yesterday’s post was very much about the sympathetic and tragic parts of his character, because the mechanics of why people get invested in certain characters are always fascinating to me, and the mechanics of how people get invested in characters who have done morally abhorrent things? EXTRA interesting. I can (and will!!!) talk at great length about why I feel attached to any given character, but I’ve felt conflicted about redemption arcs as a metric for how lovable an antagonist gets to be. I love a good redemption arc, of course, it’s very satisfying, but for some characters it just doesn’t make sense to me.

That doesn’t apply to all characters, but I think it does apply to Shen Jiu. It’s very hard for me to see how he would arrive at that point, of deciding to quote-unquote better himself, without significant external force being applied, and subtle force being applied, because he’s not... a cooperative sort of person. I’m one hundred percent down to read those stories, uh, let’s just ignore what makes up most of my wip content, but in terms of the canon, things are very constricted, because we see him reaching the kind of realization he needs, right near the very end.

Yeah, I revisited the last few 79 extras and hurt myself in my own confusion. Again! I’ve posted before about how a tragic part of his story is that even in few times he attempts to act kindly or to practice healthy forms of self-care, it’s turned against him. Trying to defend Liu Qingge against an incoming attack, and then getting accused of attacking him. Sleeping in the brothel because he only feels safe around women, and it damaging his reputation. Shang Qinghua even pretty much says that in canon, Liu Qingge dies when Shen Qingqiu tries and fails to save him during his qi deviation, and he’s blamed for killing him later. I can think of at least three times he tried to act with kindness and was punished for it. Improving himself is not incentivized in any way.

I want to say something about pride, because he both is very proud and very deeply unhappy with himself, but I’m trying not to let this balloon. But he won’t own up to why he sleeps in the brothel because it’s “shameful,” and he’s convinced that he was born intrinsically flawed, because of his reaction to learning that Yue Qi didn’t come back for him. What I’m trying to get at is that he’s at a natural disadvantage when it comes to admitting that he’s done something wrong, even with Yue Qingyuan, who already makes every possible excuse for him whenever he has an opportunity. 

But he does reach that tipping point! In the second-to-last 79 extra, This is something that I find fascinating, and is similar to what i find so interesting about Yan Wushi. Yue Qingyuan is trying to urge him to reflect a little in the water prison, and Shen Jiu very bitterly kicks back, because.... what good does it do now? What will repenting, now, fix about the past? He recognizes the ways that he’s responsible for what happened to him, but refuses to defend even the defensible points, like how Qiu Haitang’s accusations were unfair. It’s... on some axis, it’s the opposite of the kind of moral revelation that might kick off a big redemption arc (there are other kinds of redemption arcs, but shh, those are the kinds he has to be tricked/steered into following). He doesn’t rally himself and decide to become a better person, he buckles instead. It’s a despair point. 

His reaction there isn’t unlike his revelation to learning that Yue Qi was alive. Even if he was jailbroken at the last minute, that doesn’t feel like a point from which he will start becoming better. Honestly, the best case scenario I can visualize is that he’s much more likely to withdraw, hard, from the world. It’s maybe an improvement in terms of harm done, but I wouldn’t want to call it redemption. I don’t want to say anything as assertive as ‘Shen Jiu doesn’t value himself enough to give himself a redemption arc,’ but honestly, that’s the vibe this whole business gives me. I don’t think he’s incapable of self-improvement, but I think it’s real, real hard unless he’s led down that path by someone else, who values and loves him, and by the time he’s willing to admit that there’s a problem, that is a list of one (1) person, and he’s already stopped trusting that person to love him. It makes me uncomfortable to think of Shen Jiu as a character who could have redeemed himself, but, welp, guess it was too little too late. I love him as a tragic character, and to me, an integral part of that tragedy is the way that it would have been almost impossible for this man, in these circumstances, to recognize that he needed to change or allow himself to be steered into making positive changes in his life.

[marvellouspinecone]

Doctor Who ask thingo

Who would you pick as your fav doctor?

As a bonus, favourite companion?

Thank you for sending this as an ask! It's fun to find myself in the middle of an ask game I never even reblogged. This is what life is all about! It's really funny that you've asked the two questions like that, because the answers are disproportionately different in complexity.

The first question is very simple: my favourite Doctor is Nine, hands down. There is of course a "he was my first" thing, which, for many people (me), firmly cements certain characters in their heart. But what is equally, if not more, important to me, is his narrative.

I'm a huge fan of love stories, with love not necessarily being romantic. I think love, in the broadest sense imaginable, is the most compelling driving force in any story, since it comes from within the character and makes them move forward on their own accord. Be it familial love, love for life, passion for a certain subject or goal, even corrupted types of love, with a villain wanting to take over the world or something – love, to me, is the joy we find in life, and I find stories centered around it the best, most human and relatable ones.

Nine's story is full of it. He is completely broken and guilt-ridden, yet he still manages to find joy and to love with both his hearts. Love protects him, transforms him, saves him, than kills him and transforms him again. We can say that it's Rose who saves him, in the end (and we would be partially right, since she is the physical manifestation of his love), but I would argue that this change and healing can't come from the outside, it has to be an internal force, and if the Doctor didn't love Rose, she wouldn't be able to do any of this (this is not to diminish Rose's impact on the story, I'm just saying that this is a mutually active process).

Add Eccleston's beautiful acting to this soup and it's now effectively impossible to not win my heart. He has incredible range as the Doctor – charming and frightening, down-to-earth and incredibly alien – he has it all and switches between these modes effortlessly to create a quintessentially Doctor performance.

Now, to my favourite companion – this is a very hard question. I just can't pick a favourite because they are all so beautiful and complex and interesting. It would be like picking a favourite child. It would probably make sense to talk about Rose after that whole essay I did on Nine, but I want to talk about an independent story. So, as a show of lesbian solidarity if nothing else, Bill is my favourite companion.

But really, I love her. I like talking about her, because I have a lot to say and because I don't hear about her much, although I think she deserves to be discussed in-depth. You can't overestimate my joy when in 2017 I, then a baby whovian, heard that there would be a lesbian companion on the show. It meant so much to me, and still does. I guess we all on this site have been saying for the longest time: "don't give us stories about being queer, give us stories about people who just happen to be queer", and Bill's story is exactly that. It's really about her, and not her gayness, but her identity is not ignored.

However her storyline absolutely had to reflect her queerness not just in passing comments, but on a deeper level, because otherwise, what would be the point of that little victory for us gays? It's really important how comfortable she is in her identity, but you can't really get self-acceptance angst out of someone who has already accepted themselves, can you? I already talked a bit about it in this post, that her seeming lack of growth and character arc is exactly the point. She is confident, grounded, she knows and likes herself, and there's not much you can do about it plot-wise, she is like an immovable object in that respect, so this is a story of an unapologetically gay woman going on little space adventures. Unlike other companions, who change, find themselves and learn of their worth through travelling with the Doctor, Bill already has everything, and for her travelling is just a bonus.

And that confidence, that grounded-ness, that positive queer experience is reflected, metaphorically in other parts of her story – in her staying true to herself during the monk invasion, after the cyberconversion and in her day-to-day life. And the cyberman plotline is the most powerful representation of this. Everything that Bill is, came together in here.

I don't want to live if I can't be me anymore.

This quote may seem strange in a show that is so tied to the concept of constant change, especially since it mirrors and inspires Twelve's decisions regarding his inevitable regeneration, but, from a queer perspective, this is a powerful message. Yes, change is good, but only when it's natural. It can't be forced upon you. Much like love that we discussed with Nine, it must be coming from within.

Not to mention the parallel "cyberconversion vs conversion therapy". I don't know if it was intentional on Moffat's part, but this is a great new perspective on cybermen (they want to help you by forcibly changing you, because they hate what you are and want you to be like them or die, sounds familiar?) as well as a genious way to bring queer issues into the narrative without devaluing your character's queer identity.

And to talk about love again for a sec: Bill really did save the world with her love to her mum! Why people don't talk about it more? She didn't have the best childhood, being an orphan child in the system, being black amd gay, her foster mum seems to be a rather cold and detached person that doesn't know her at all amd doesn't really try to, and yet Bill constantly, unwaiveringly, chooses love, joy and warmth. She loves herself, her friends, her weird space grandpa and the memory/idea of her mother. She draws power from this love that lets her endure everything.

So this is about my two favourite characters on the show, who start from very different places and go very different ways, yet still connected by love that runs like red thread throughout the whole show. Thank you again for asking me, this sure turned out to be a lot, but I hope I managed to say something of interest.

[pilvimarja]

A reading for everyone

I've been wanting to practice a more communal tarot reading for a bigger audience instead of reading for myself or an individual friend, and I found the perfect opportunity with the "Chosen Family" spread! I would never read anyone's individual tarot without their consent, so while this reading is for everyone, this isn't for any single individual. I channeled my ~energies~ towards communities like fandom (which in my case is the Cobra Kai fandom) and groups of friends and people you feel close to, your chosen family.

Find: Temperance, Major Arcana

Temperance is a card of unity and harmony, advising us to combine two opposing sides, opinions, thoughts or feelings. It's the "golden middle way". There's a road in the card that leads to a new sunrise, a brighter future. The card could be telling us to try and walk that middle road for a balanced existence with each other. Accept the fact that people around you have different opinions, feelings and preferences. Look for emotional harmony like the waters that flow from one cup to another in Temperance's hands. The Irises in the card symbolize Iris, the goddess of the rainbow, which is the perfect segue to our next card.

Bond: Ten of Cups

This is another card of harmony, the "happy family" card, which is really nice to get in a reading like this. The family in this card isn't just about biological bonds. It can be a group of friends or a community. In my case, it's the fandom I'm part of here on Tumblr. Maybe this is where Temperance's balance and unity leads us? The Cups are all about emotions, so I think the card could be telling us to be open with each other and to bond over our friendship and the love we share for our interests, but there's also a warning in this card: don't let your feelings spill over or the energy of the card could turn negative. It's okay to be passionate about things, but we should never let that passion turn into something that drives us to attack and gatekeep. Temperance is key. Give: The Magician, Major Arcana

The Magician is about self-confidence, willpower, skills and action. Just like the Magician in the card, we have all the tools and endless potential to create and make things happen. I see the Magician as the Shia LaBeouf of the deck, screaming at us to "JUST DO IT!" Write your fics and your meta, work on those WIPs, draw your fanart, make your gif sets and give your friends and community a chance to enjoy whatever you create. Nothing is impossible!

Receive: Judgement, Major Arcana

A card of awakening, rebirth and big changes. Also of forgiveness, reconciliation and personal growth. It's a wake-up call that's impossible to ignore. The cards are telling us to receive it with open arms like the people rising from their graves for a new beginning. It's time to self-reflect and pause to evaluate our actions. Should you change something about your behavior or patterns you've fallen into? Maybe you need to let go of something that's making you unhappy in your community? Or do you feel a calling towards something specific? Now is the time to embrace change and let go of things that no longer serve a purpose in our lives.

Enjoy: Nine of Pentacles

This is a card of abundance and inner peace. A card of enjoying the fruits of our labor. The woman in the card is content and free because her life is stable and full of harmony (a major theme in this reading!). Maybe this stability, abundance and contentment is what awaits us if we heed the call from the two angels in this spread, Temperance and Judgement?

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

BTS Bangtan Bombs and Authenticity

BTS Bangtan Bomb is usually a sort of material that releases behind the scenes footage, its purpose being to see another face of the band, how they act outside the stage, music videos and a way to see the members interact with each other in a more natural environment. I wanted to make a short analysis on the nature of this kind of media content because the way it's delivered is a bit more complex than what it looks like.

A Bangtan Bomb is filmed using a handheld camera, it doesn't have a voice over narration, uses synchronous sound and due to these possibilities, it's easier for the person shooting to be right in the middle of events. Looking at these technical aspects, it's safe to say that this style is influenced by the changes that came in the 1960s in regards to documentary filmmaking, that is the cinema verite and direct cinema. I'll make a short summary to explain what both mean in order to understand why it's relevant to what Bangtan Bombs reveal. Both cinema verite and direct cinema are part of what we call observational documentary, with few significant differences, but both styles are concerned with reality/authenticity. Cinema verite implies self-reflexivity as the filmmaker is an active participant that interviews the people in the documentary, tries to interrogate them in order to make the subjects reveal some truth that needs outside ''help'' to come out. This is exemplified by what Jean Rouch thinks about the purpose of intervening in order to achieve that: ''Rouch admits that he does not film reality as it is but reality as it is provoked by the act of filming’’ (Rothman 1997:87). In contrast to that we have direct cinema (developed in North America, with D.A. Pennebaker as one if its representatives, his documentary on Bob Dylan Don't Look Back being a perfect example) which is more observational, it's not intrusive, it's more concerned with so called objectivity for which the truth lies in exactly what the camera observes, without an intervention from the filmmaker.

Now that the short history lesson on documentary is over, let's see how it can be connected to the Bangtan Bombs. At first I thought it was closer to a form of direct cinema simply because there is no direct implication of the filmmaker (here the staff that is assigned to film the BB). We don't hear any questions asked and usually it assumes the position of what is called ''fly-on-the-wall''. But to categorize Bangtan Bombs as direct cinema would mean to ignore a lot of other elements, which led me to the conclusion that this type of content is a sort of hybrid between cinema verite and direct cinema while at the same time not being able to achieve that common purpose, which is realness, authenticity in terms of what those movements aimed to do and I will explain why.

In cinema verite, the intention in being intrusive and asking questions is to put the subject in a position where they self-reflect. In a Bangtan bomb, we do not hear a question, but it is implied when one member talks to the camera. He explains what the shooting is about, a few words about the concept (this happens usually in a BB of a music video or when they prepare a certain performance). Basically, the intervention in form of an interview is not there to reveal some truth, but to add more information, sometimes even promotional. There are instances when the members talk about what they feel and what are their expectations about what they are doing at that time and how they wish fans would like it when it comes out. In short we have a combination of observational footage, and from the filmmaker's point of view, we see BTS on set working, making jokes, sitting around laughing with each other or focusing on their phones, combined with short interviews segment.

Going a bit back to the history lesson, both cinema verite and direct cinema were criticized for a number of reasons, but the main one being related to objectivity, as this is actually impossible to achieve. Even in an observational format, there is subjectivity that can be found in the way a shot is framed, what gets in and what is left out. Then it goes through another process, which is editing where the shots are chosen and then cut. Another aspect is the performative nature. The subject naturally, involuntarily acts a certain way in front of a camera. He may become comfortable, but is always aware that there's someone filming (for example, we don’t hear anyone swearing while on set or it’s cut during editing). We can easily apply this to how a Bangtan Bomb looks. If we watch recent BB (as in the last few years. I'm not necessarily talking about all BB, especially those in the beginning which were more chaotic and that made them a bit more authentic and at the same time they were an opportunity for BTS to get time on camera, making their presence known, acting a bit more), we can see how they use close up shots for the interviews, with no intervention from anyone else inside the frame. The framing is restrictive even with other shots of members being on set. It's fragmented and the material used in the final product is one that usually focuses on short exchanges of dialogue between some members. We rarely see a discussion from beginning to an end in a Bangtan Bomb. In the BB Butter Epilogue the camera was offered to the members and more than half the footage consisted of filming themselves and each other and barely talking, with extra-diegetic music in order to fill those gaps. 

It's a sort of behind the scenes footage, but one that focuses on showing very light/funny segments, without going further than that, which is to say that it leaves out a lot of other things. This is where it lacks a bit of that sort of realness that comes with this type of filming. Of course there is the matter of privacy, but this is not what I'm talking about here when I refer to what lacks in a BB. BTS are shown while they pose for a shot, a music video, make jokes, but they are filmed as if they only talk to each other, despite being surrounded by other people. This is where a BB, through framing and editing creates a narrative and why, despite using techniques of observational documentary, it presents a manufactured version of events. BTS members may as well act together as naturally and normally as possible, have fun with each other while also have real talks, a dynamic that is present with friends/co-workers, but that part is sometimes left out.