#goddamn i guess i have stronger feelings about this than i thought | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

drdemonprince · 2 days

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Any chance you'd expand on the hank hill trans guy post? (Sorry, best indicator I could come up with.) The concept interests me as I decidedly know my maleness, yet don't feel impeded by for the most part, any male gendered norms/boxes. I am fairly masculine, though I rarely use those kinds terms to describe myself. I have found I often do stray outside of what society pushed for me when I transitioned, yet I again do not feel it has taken from my right to maleness whatsoever. I am just me, who happens to be male. I have had friends try and suggest I am NB adjacent but I do not feel this way whatsoever. I feel more people are outliers to gender expectation than we care to admit and it's disappointing the way cis-people deny that. Hope this wasn't too long winded, I value your writing and perspective, and wanted to hear more of your thoughts on this.

Yeah, well so many things all get conflated by gender labels, and it's all so personal, you know? Masculinity does not have to mean maleness, and a person's gender identity might be a reflection of some innate quality they experience themselves as having, or a general summary of their tendencies, or their desired presentation, or their sense of affinity with other people, or an interpersonal tool, or something they just go along with because it was given to them by society, or any other number of things.

I think my recent substack piece on detransition goes into this pretty well, and I have an upcoming piece of what @pastimperfection calls "bilateral dysphoria" that comes out next week that delves into it too.

I think I mostly saw taking on a male identity as a means to an end more than any kind of innate reflection of who I was, though I did feel an affinity with effeminate men for a lot of reasons. I think I also discounted how much I have in common with my fellow nonbinary people of all stripes, because that identity became so strongly associated with being an annoying type of queer person that everybody else just wrote off as ultimately being their assigned gender at birth anyway no matter how much they protested. it doesn't help that 'nonbinary' is a catchall term for literally thousands if not millions of very distinct experiences and desires.

transitioning gave me control over how i was perceived, finally, but hormones are a throttle that only go in one very specific direction, and you don't really have all that much control over which changes kick in at which times and what people will make of you once you do start registering to them as some identity other than what you were first saddled with. it's an incredible gift to be able to toggle that throttle. but it's limited, not because medical transition isn't incredible and needed for so many, but because there is no escaping the goddamned binary cissexist logic that influences everything about how people treat you, how you navigate institutions, who finds you desirable and what they want out of you, and so much else.

if you're able to cast a lot of the external societal bullshit aside and feel strong in your maleness, maybe you're stronger than me or maybe our orientation to these things is just different, i don't know. i was never all that sensitive to feedback that i was doing the whole being-a-woman-thing all that wrong. i reveled in violating those rules to an extent. succeeding at being a woman despite my best attempts was what felt super dysphoric. and now i guess im succeeding at being a man, insofar as im always read as one, and it feels just as uncomfortable and objectifying and false. i thought that with manhood i could probably just grit my teeth and deal with it, but i'm finding that i can't.

ive always been very open that for me, gender is a thing I Do, and i guess to those who know me well it wouldnt be surprising to hear that i have gotten tired of Doing Being a Man and dont feel like playing that particular gendered game anymore. I tend to get bored of things! and find the flaws in things. and find my comfort in being fault-finding and contrarian and not being a joiner. and thats okay. i learned a lot along the way. not having to try any more is a huge relief. i can just do whatever. and know actively that people will more often than not be wrong in what they make of me.

maybe it was natural feeling for you to decidely 'know' your maleness without a care for masculine standards because that is the right identity for you! and maybe i only feel secure in the "not knowing" realm and in letting go of what people think of me or finding any kind of tidy categorization for it because that's the right spot for me. for now. until i find a new interesting way to be unhappy and striving for more and different again. :) that's just part of being alive, for me.

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dontcallmeeds · 1 year

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I saw a twitter thread that was giving reasons for Nancy Wheeler being a lesbian and I gotta say, I agree. At least that Nancy is NOT straight. The way she interacts with Barb….dude, do you know how many of the stairs conversations (from season one before Barb disappears) I’ve had with friends who were secretly seeing me??? The whole “this isn’t you” after Nancy lies about where she’s going and the way she reacts with her facial expressions…..bro, they’ve kissed before. This has been said a million times here and otherwise since season one.

But with the level of grief and guilt she goes through in season two, I’m seeing that right now in myself as someone who just had one of their best friends pass away suddenly who was also an ex. The whole “bullshit” Stancy Halloween fight could be chalked up to grief and liking Jonathan sure, but I think it’s way more than that. I think she’s calling everything bullshit including herself because she lost the one person who saw her, someone she loved more than just platonically.

Then season three is mostly just her fighting with Jonathan if you really think about it, because she wants to be more than just a sandwich girl at Hawkins Post. Someone Barb would be proud of. We only see her really happy with Jonathan in season three when they wake up late and she sneaks out and the soft moment they have at the end when he’s leaving. Other than that they’re either fighting with each other or fighting monsters. Robin calls her a “priss,” but before Steve she was just kind of a…nerd. Like Robin. Maybe they ran in the same circles? We know they don’t know each other in person, at least Nancy doesn’t know HER.

FOLLOW ME HERE: What if Robin knew Barb?? What if Barb confided in her that she had feelings for Nancy, but that Nancy was dating Steve and we know how hard Robin goes for her friends so she just made this assumption that Nancy is a priss????

Then season four of course, we see Nancy not going to California. She’s frustrated that Jonathan wouldn’t be coming and she stayed for the basketball game for her front page news right?? Why didn’t she take another flight hmmm??? And we think she’s jealous of Robin, but what if she was jealous of Steve??? Because we don’t really have indication that Steve and Nancy have spent much time around each other since summer ‘85…but Robin and Nancy go to school together. Robin is in band which means they’re in the same room *hypothetically* for the important games that Nancy needs to document. We don’t know how many games Steve went to besides the one, he could’ve been working on some of those games or on dates. So ipso facto, Robin and Nancy have (probably) been in the same room more than Steve and Nancy….why would she suddenly be jealous of ROBIN???

And you can see her genuinely enjoying being around Robin after her monologue at the psych ward when she was being “annoyed” and “on edge” with her before that. I don’t see that as “oh well she started considering her a friend” I think she had a crush, she was on edge because she had lost Barb and didn’t want to feel that way about another girl. But the monologue relaxes her because she realized Robin is just as unhinged as she is, but in a different way. Because Nancy Wheeler is IMPULSIVE. She’s smarter than hell, but she is so careless with her own safety.

Also every time the Bylers shippers contrast the Wheeler siblings really they’re just giving us Nancy Wheeler is gay proof too. Because look at their similar behaviors. They fight and bicker in a way that says “i know what you are, NO I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE”

NOT VERY STRAIGHT IF YOU ASK ME.

Also, while I now understand my attraction to men is because I was a queer trans dude the entire time, I used to think it was comphet. But everything I feel about men is different than the way Nancy feels about men. It feels forced, it feels like she thinks she HAS to have a boyfriend and HAS to force a real connection with them. COMP. MOTHERFUCKIN. HET.

In conclusion, for the love of god, let Nancy Wheeler kiss girls. Natalia wants it, the fans want it. Give us a SMOOCH.

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strongheartneteyam · 2 months

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I wet you like water but she stained you like blood.

Chapter 4

Pairing: widowed!dilf!Jake Sully x younger!female!human reader

CW: jealous-in-an-unhealthy-way-Jake, Jake and y/n verbally fight because of complicated feelings, angst!!, heated make out session, possessive Jake, TRIGGER WARNING for Jake being toxic and unreasonable, Jake apologizes afterwards bc he's good after all, Daddy kink (nothing explicit but still the kink is there)

So… after this fic being on an incredibly long hiatus, I'm back with another chapter. I had this in my Google Docs for way too long but I was not sure if I wanted the story to go this way but I guess I do. I'm extremely insecure about this chapter, so, please, leave me your opinion about it. Love you guys <3

Not proofread. I'm sick n sleepy. Sorry :(

Chapter 3 𓆩♡𓆪

You know I'm good at keeping secrets, you know that you're my weakness and I'll always repeat it

If I could hold onto the feeling back before your words lost their meaning

There's no need for apologies 'cause, honestly, fuck your honesty, I'm done

Think you like the insanity

I'm the casualty of your dreams 'cause I'm not the one

casualty of your dreams (Maggie Lindemann)

𓆩♡𓆪

Rumor had it there was a human girl that worked in the lab being all lovey-dovey with an Omatikaya young guy. They had gotten it from the fact that you were just talking to and smiling at an Omatikaya male you had met in one of your walks in the woods to collect samples. You had just found out the na'vi could be as fond of gossiping as humans… Great. As the word runs fast as the wind on the Pandora planet, three days after you finally see Jake again. He had been gone for 3 whole days, not even paying a quick visit to the lab to see you for some minutes, really early in the morning, - like he always used to do - when he was already awake to do some Olo'eyktan tasks and you were up with your face buried in science books about extraterrestrial flowers and herbs, a cup of hot black coffee on the table, right next to your hand for easy access, as you survived only because of the caffeine, having to wake up so early almost every day. Sometimes being a xenobotanist truly sucked...

"Who's that Omatikaya boy you were seen with? People are saying you were all over each other." Jake spit, rage and jealousy burning his insides, bursting like a bomb inside of the cold, filled with cold air coming from the air conditioner room you were in, sitting down, taking notes with an electronic pen in your tablet about the herb samples you were conducting a research about.

There were microscopes, high tech computers, Pandoran plants samples and xenobiology books all around.

"What?!" You said, startled by his sudden, noisy appearance.

"Don't pretend you have no clue! You were there, y/n." Jake says, a cold smirk filled with anger adorning his face, the feeling of his heart being crashed and bruised even stronger than when he first heard the news harassing him

"What the hell, Jake?!" You say loudly, mad at him "why are you being so rude to me?!" Your heart was beating fast inside your chest cavity. You couldn't believe Jake was treating you that way. "Why did you burst into the room like that, without even knocking on the door, like you usually do?! You scared the shit out of me!"

"Won't you just answer my question already?!" Jake said, in a cutting tone

That was the last straw. You had enough.

You swiftly stood up from the high chair you were sitting on and came closer to Jake, looking up at his usually yellow bright eyes that were now tainted with a dark atmosphere, like a rainy grey cloud was around him, his 9 feet something frame towering over you, but you were so damn angry that you didn't feel a single bit of fear, even knowing he was incredibly mad and seemed out his damn mind and you knew that he could even kill you so goddamn easily if he wanted to. Not that you thought he did. You could never see Jake doing something so horrible, especially to you. It was just a fact: he was ridiculously stronger than you. His height and his muscles, plus the fact he had military training and so much experience at war, making him a dangerous adversary right now. You thanked any Higher Force that existed in the Universe that you were sure and confident Jake would never hurt you physically.

But he was hurting you in another way, a very detrimental one: he was hurting your feelings. Hurting your feelings good.

"No, Jake Sully. I won't answer you until you stop being such a goddamn jerk." You said, a serious, stern expression in your heated with anger face as you stared at his eyes

He looked you dead in the eyes and breathed heavy though his nose, supporting his back against the wall, his body inclined back, his huge toned but a little fleshy arms crossed in front of his chest. He calmed down a little and was waiting for you to talk.

"Thank you!" You spit, rolling your eyes at him "I was, yes, talking to an Omatikaya boy. But that was all. He was really nice and we were just having a good time. Nothing happened. I even told him that I had someone. Didn't say who it was, though. I don't know if he was interested in me. I'm not that good at noticing these things."

"Hah, so he was flirting with you! I knew it!!" Jake was lost in his jealousy. You didn't recognize the man in front of you

"Jake!! Are we gonna do this all over again?!" You were getting way too mad at his attitude

Jake tilted his head to the side, furrowed his lips, eyes on yours, scorching your very soul.

"Why can't I be mad? He was messing with what's mine." He stated, fierce.

"Ahaha" You laughed sarcastically

"Unbelievable…" You thought

"So, you don't make our relationship official, you don't let your family or anyone in Pandora know, everybody thinks you just like to talk to me about sciencey stuff, Norm might be the only one that suspects of something, in my opinion , but he minds his own business and respects our friendship - with me and with you - way too much to go around gossiping to people about the fact you always come way too often to the lab and spends a lot of time alone in rooms with me, and you have the audacity of acting like a mad man when an Omatikaya guy, who has no damn clue you're dating me, seems interested in me?! Is that the way you're gonna act, Sully?! Really?!"

Jake still stared at you, angered.

"Yes." He said, in a low, calm tone. But you could feel his cold demeanor coming towards you. He was still angry and still though he was right.

You chuckled faintly, your face tainted eith disbelief "Manchild." You said, looking into his eyes.

Jake sighed heavily, spent some seconds with his head down, seeming to be thinking about something and then, he came closer to you, his eyes softer this time, that anger flying away slowly.

"I'm sorry. You're right. I'm being childish. I'm way older than you are. I should be the mature one here."

You looked at him, eyes still distrustful, but you gave in and calmed your nerves down too.

Jake looked at you with puppy adorable eyes, the way he used to look at Neytiri when they were young. Even after so many years, he still had that cute look in his eyes when he was sorry, or pleading for something or when he just wanted to show his true feelings to someone he had romantic feelings for. He wasn't the romantic type, but he showed his love through actions, through acts of service, quality time, physical touch, and, through looking at the person he loved - in this case, "the person he liked", you thought - that way. His eyes said everything his mouth couldn't say.

"Please, forgive me, baby. I didn't mean to hurt you this much. I was foolish, I was letting my heart guide me. That's not good, sometimes." He sighed, upset with himself "it's just that... you mean so much to me. I don't wanna lose you to someone else. Someone younger, who doesn't have a whole lot of baggage like I do, someone who can make you happier than I can."

You breathed through your nose, your chest felt tight, filled with anxiety and tension

"You will never lose me, Jake. Never. Don't worry about it." You looked at his pleading amber eyes, forgiving him "My heart is yours. You're always there. Everywhere I look, you're there. I listen to love songs from Earth thinking about you. Why are you so insecure?"

"No reason... I just... You're so precious to me. I need you so much. So much."

You gazed into his eyes, started to tip toe, trying to reach his mouth. It was stupid, you knew the height difference wouldn't let that happen, but, you were following your instinct to physically show him how much you loved him. That you were his and never wished to belong to anybody else.

Jake noticed what you wanted to do and took you in his arms, sweeping you off your feet, his arms beneath your thighs and initiated the kiss himself. Jake held onto your thighs tightly and strongly. He kissed you like a starving man finally getting some food. His tongue wildly touching yours, licking it, sucking on it. His lips bruising yours, leaving your mouth reddened afterwards.

His big blue hands moved from your thighs to hold onto your butt, carefully to not let you fall from his arms, as you were up in the air and could get hurt if you fell.

"Nobody can touch you. Or kiss you. Or fuck you. Only I can. Do you understand, sweetheart?" Jake spoke, almost whispering, out of breath because of the heated kiss

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good girl. My good girl. Only mine..." Jake praised you

𓆩♡𓆪

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makeyoumine69 · 1 year

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0% Angel

◥ PAIRING: Sugar Daddy!Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

◥ SYNOPSIS: Patrick is obsessed with you and you're gonna pay for this.

◥ WARNINGS: NSFW │ Rough vaginal sex, oral sex (f&m), fingering, cum swallowing, Patrick being a dick, unexperienced reader, obsessive and toxic behaviour, degradation kink, minor size kink, daddy kink, praise kink, belly bulge, dirty talk, overstimulation, choking, spanking, pet names.

◥ WORDCOUNT: 3.4k (👉👈)

◥ A/N: As you can see from the title, I was inspired by the song Mr. Kitty - 0% Angel from this American Psycho edit (coz I think the lyrics fits him so perfectly). As always, I hope you like it! 🥰

◥ LINKS: [Sweet like a Cupcake Masterlist] [Main Masterlist]

Goddamn you Patrick, you thought as someone touched you in the back while you were trying to dance in the middle of the dance floor. You didn’t have any idea why this narcissistic king took you to this place exactly. Oh wait, where else could he have asked you out to other than to the best nightclub in New York City, even though it was busy as hell?

Cursing to yourself, you continued to move to the energetic music when you suddenly heard Patrick’s voice from behind:

“There you are!” He smiled as you turned around, coming closer. “I was looking for ya, Cupcake...”

“Why? What happened?”

“Let's go somewhere private, so we can talk.” He smirked again, but in another way that made your heart flutter.

He didn’t even give you a chance to say something in response as he took you by the hand, pushing some guys aside who were standing in your way. As you moved through the crowd of dancing people, you were looking at his back and trying to guess - what was he up to this time?

Patrick was suspiciously silent the whole way, and his firm grip made you worry. No wonder, that after a while, you found yourself pressed against the wall of the small private room as he was ravenously attacking your mouth.

“P-Patrick…” You sighed languidly against his lips.

The way he trapped you in his arms left you almost breathless, and you couldn't make more than gasp through his passionate kisses. With a soft growl, Patrick finally gave you a slight break before he leaned down to your neck, leaving a wet line of hickeys.

“Is that what you wanted to speak about?”

“O-oh yes, sweetie,” he crooned as he snuggled harder into you. “I wanted to “speak with ya” from the moment we got here.”

His powerful arms were exploring every part of your shivering form, especially your hips and your ass. Yes, this man was addicted to your pretty body, and he would not stop. You closed your eyes, feeling his big palms sliding under your not-too-short dress when you heard his disgruntled voice.

“What is this?”

“What’s wrong?” You asked confusedly, staring at him from under your lashes.

“Did I tell ya to take them off when I’m around?” He hissed, pulling on your panties.

Sighing, you blushed right away as you tried to avoid his gaze but he didn’t let you, fixating you by the chin and forcing you to look into his eyes. Scowling, Patrick touched your lips as if by a chance and then, he moved his hand up to your cheek to pinch it a bit.

“I have no words for how disappointed I am in you for behaving like this,” he clicked his tongue loudly. “But I also must admit, you have such cute cheeks.”

His velvet voice was affecting your body stronger than you thought it could and of course, he wouldn't miss it. With a dark smile on his face, he unexpectedly knelt down to pull up the hem of your dress, causing your legs to shake a bit from his sudden assault.

“What usually happens to the kids when they don’t listen to their parents?” He smirked from his place, petting your right hip shamelessly.

“Why… Why are you even asking?”

To your surprise, Patrick said nothing - he just cupped your ass and squeezed it a bit too harshly, making you whine from unexpected pain, but he didn’t even notice it.

“I don’t think ya need them anymore,” he sneered, slowly removing your wet underwear. “Am I right, sweet cheeks? Fuck, you’re dripping so much already.”

Desperately catching the air, you let him pull down your panties, standing still in anticipation of his next move. Tempted by the picture of your exposed body, he palmed the inner side of your thigh, forcing you to spread your legs. Sheepishly, you closed your eyes as you felt his muscular hands moving up and down your shaking hips.

“Baby girl,” he purred, looking at you from below. “So shy, mmhm… So delicate, so innocent…”

With each word he said, Patrick’s face was getting closer to your blushing pussy; his lips twitched in a devilish smirk when he heard your nervous gasps.

“Please, wait,” panting, you leaned onto his shoulders to slow him down a bit. “Someone could see us!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll cover you.” Chuckling, he winked at you, tickling you a little before his hot mouth finally reached the place where you needed him the most.

“P-Patrick, oh, my God…”

Tilting your head, you literally sprawled against the wall behind you, from the way his experienced tongue was painting wet lines against your folds. With a slurping sound, Patrick latched his lips around your clit, alternating between sucking on it and licking it.

All things he was doing with your body felt like total bliss. However, you still couldn’t completely relax and that pissed him off slightly: “C’mon, Cupcake. Open up for me,” he demanded, grabbing your hips and literally making your straddle his face as he put one of your legs on his broad shoulder. “I know you like this…”

“Patrick…” you nearly begged as his mouth continued to devour your pussy with animalistic hunger. “Someone…someone can get into this room and, a-ah…”

“And what?” He murmured against your tender flesh, swirling his wet tongue around your oversensitive nub.

“They can catch us doing this…” You mewled, flinching in his grasp.

“Oh, dear. Do ya really think that someone can stop me?” he grinned and slapped your ass harshly, squeezing it after and making you squeak from the burning sensation on your skin. “Nothing and no one could ever stand between us, I want you to remember this, Cupcake.”

Puzzled, you didn’t really know how to react on his sudden revelation. To be fair, now you could only think about saving your ability to breathe, that was vanishing with each second of his eager ministrations.

“Pat…A-aww! I can’t take it…a-ahh, a-any longer…”

You desperately needed to hold on to something and when you didn’t find any other options than his perfect coiffed hair, you just grabbed his soft strands, making them look fluffy almost immediately. Later, Patrick would be definitely so angry about it, but in that moment, you simply didn’t care, feeling nothing but total delight from the way his tongue was fucking your tight hole, along with his beautiful nose rubbing against your clit.

This man knew exactly how to set you on fire, each time you and him got alone together and fuck, he was so good at it.

“Not yet, my pretty (Y/N),” Patrick teased you and, unfortunately, broke away from your super soaked cunt. “I still have to fuck you.”

Elegantly as ever, he stood up, fixing his suit before he encircled your waist with a light push; his powerful body looked so huge compared to yours, especially when he was looking at you from above.

“Maybe we shouldn't do it?” you watched his long fingers sliding across your face and getting closer to your mouth. “I still haven't adjusted to all these things and …”

Bateman didn’t let you finish, pressing his soft lips against yours and playing with your tongue. You couldn’t help but moan through the kiss, making him grin in satisfaction as he had gotten so addicted to all your innocent reactions.

“Don’t worry, doll. I’ll prep you…” he whispered, looking into your eyes. “I’m always eager to take care of my sweet Cupcake…”

Hot bothered, Patrick licked your face from the chin to the cheek and then, as if spellbound, you let his fingers slip into your mouth, suckling them with pleasure.

“Mmm, good girl.” Before you reacted, his sneaky digits reached your needy core, sliding into it like clockwork.

“P-Patrick! Mmmh…”

“Shhh, babe. I got you.” He crooned, leaning to your neck and tickling your earlobe as he pressed you harder against the wall.

Shaking like a leaf, you were instinctively trying to break free from his grip as this whole physical contact was getting too much for you, but Patrick would never allow you to run away from him. Never.

Although, he didn’t plan to make you cum right now, his digits were buried deep inside your feverish cleft, massaging your most sensitive spot and stretching your inner walls so masterfully.

“Baby, look over here,” his palm laid on the back of your neck, forcing you to lean down. “You see? Your tight pussy’s taking my fingers so greedily...I bet she wants more than that, right?”

Timidly, you submitted to his will, watching his skillful digits disappearing in your dripping cunt and that almost sent you over the edge, but Patrick stopped timely once again, perfectly controlling the whole situation.

Later when you heard him undoing his pants, you made a sharp breath and turn your head away; your chest was rising and falling so rapidly as your heart was about to do a flip.

Frowning in anticipation, Patrick briefly stroked your cheek before he grabbed your right leg under your knee, lifting it up and moving to the side a bit. Whimpering quietly, you felt his hard flesh rubbing against your moist pussy as he was smearing your slickness all around his big cock. With a small pressure, he took you by the chin, forcing you to look at him as he pushed himself into your inner channel.

“A-aw, Patrick…” Clawing at his expensive jacket, you had to bite your lip to hold back a loud moan.

“It’s just the tip, baby.” He chuckled, looking down where you were attached to each other.

“But… B-but I already feel so full...”

“I can tell,” growling, he continued to stretch you from the inside, making you squeal and shiver in his brawny arms. “Kinda challenging for this pretty little hole of yours?”

“I… I can say so,” you tried your best to keep talking, but with every inch he made it was getting harder for you even to breathe. “You…A-aw, you’re so b-big.”

“Oh, I know, my cinnamon girl.”

Clinging you securely, he eventually bottomed out into you completely. A muffled moan of pleasure fell from his smirking lips as he was pounding into your shivering body in a steady pace.

“P-Patrick…” you suddenly cried out, breathing heavily as you were about to see stars. “I can’t… I… A-aahh.”

You needed just a few deep thrusts to cum so hard around his beefy cock. Patrick had to shush you with a kiss, pressing you against his solid chest as right now you couldn’t control your body–you were literally drowning in the ocean of pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re milking my dick so good.” He sneered, tugging on your lower lip as he kept fucking you through your orgasm.

“Mhm…daddy.”

“What?” panting, he froze in shock. “What did you say?”

“N-nothing.” You stammered a bit, feeling yourself embarrassed as never.

“No, no, no, it doesn't work like that,” he grunted, wrapping his hand around your neck and pulling you closer to have a proper look on you. “Say it again, you dumb little slut!”

Breathing furiously through his red nostrils, he nearly spit out the words, while his hips were slowly meeting yours as his thick cock was still plunged deep inside your pulsating womb.

“I said–daddy!” You gulped, watching his eyes getting even darker with each passing second.

Patrick let out a light chuckle and then, he squeezed your throat, pushing the air out of your lungs. “My, my…a good girl with a dirty mind, huh?”

The things that happened after, you remembered like in a slow-motion movie:

With no resistance, Patrick turned you around with your face pressed against the wall, your hands were restricted behind your back in his firm grip. The delirious sensation of his hard cock brushing against your cervix soon replaced an unpleasant feeling of emptiness. Then suddenly, he was rocking into you from behind.

“Pat…Patrick, ahh…it’s so deep, mmmh,” Your pitiful wails echoed across the room, which of course could be heard outside.

Smirking, Patrick only slapped your ass in return, setting up the pace and almost fucking you into the wall. “Huh, I can almost feel my cock in your belly, I bet it feels so good…” He murmured, pressing his hand against your lower abdomen to outline the bulge his beefy shaft was making.

Watching you being so helpless, trembling in his powerful arms, crying out so loud– became his special type of pleasure as he enjoyed every little detail of his dark plan to corrupt you, claim you as his and no one could stop him.

“Aa-ahh, I didn’t expect this sweet little mouth to make such nasty sounds...” he growled in a low voice, watching his dick slipping in and out your creamy pussy. “Mmmh, Cupcake…Maybe we should watch more porn together?”

Patrick spanked your butt once again, before he returned his hand on your neck, squeezing it and making your eyes roll to the back of your head from his merciless thrusting and lack of air.

“A-aww…I’m so close, please…” Your tears were running down to your chin, mixing up with your saliva and falling on the floor.

“If ya really want to cum, keep your hands to yourself,” he husked into your ear, placing his large palm between your shaking legs. “A-ah…Tell me…Tell me that you’re a dirty whore…Who needed to be fucked by daddy so badly?”

“Y-yesss, d-daddy, please…I beg you!”

With a feral noise, Patrick pressed a sloppy kiss on your shoulder, rubbing your throbbing clit between his experienced fingers. And soon, he had to shut your mouth with his hand as a new release washed over you like a tsunami, making your legs give way from the overwhelming sensation of total delight.

“Get on your knees, now!” he suddenly barked, pushing you down by your shoulders. “Open your mouth, slut!”

Lost, you looked up at him, seeing nothing but pure lust, glowing in his brown eyes, realizing that there was no another choice–only full submission. When you did what he said, you felt a searing pain, burning your throat as he was ramming into your mouth at a high pace. Groaning, Patrick was about to crest his high, fixating you by your hair and enjoying the way you were moaning whenever your nose was hitting his pubis.

“Such a nasty little bitch, sucking daddy’s cock so well… f-fuck…” he gasped as his thrusting was getting sloppier with each passing moment. “Gonna cum into your sweet innocent mouth, Cupcake…aaa-ah…”

Whimpering, you had to claw at his hips from the way he was fucking your face, but it didn’t help. With a low muffled growl, he unloaded his warm seed right into your throat and you almost gag onto his cock as he pushed himself as deep as he could, holding you in one place and not letting you move away.

“Swallow it, (Y/N),” he demanded in a raspy voice, wrapping your hair onto his fist. “Swallow it to the last drop…”

You sobbed but obeyed, trying your best to keep breathing through your nose, and thanking God that Patrick didn’t decide to close your nostrils. Feeling yourself used as never, you stuck your tongue out, showing him your full submission. Although, he tasted so delicious you would never accept it, just as you would never let him know how painfully addicted to him you became.

“Good girl,” he was tucking his shirt with a satisfied smirk. “Go to the ladies' room and get yourself cleaned up. I will wait you downstairs, near the dance floor.”

It has been over 15 minutes since he left; you were still sitting on the floor with your back pressed to the wall. Exhaustion was hitting you so hard, you didn’t even remember how you reached the powder room. Also, you didn't know how long it took you to freshen up yourself, your clouded mind refused to work at all.

When you finally fixed yourself, you got downstairs, searching for Patrick and feeling your head spinning so badly. Holding your forehead, you didn’t notice a random guy walking beside you, bumping into him.

“Wooo hoooo, what have we here?” He crooned in unpleasantly sweet tone, rubbing his palms.

They way his filthy gaze was tracing all over your body left you completely speechless when you heard Patrick’s grumpy voice: “Hey you! Get out of here before someone gets the wrong idea.”

“Okay, okay. I get it. I get it.”

The guy raised his hands in the air in a surrendering way, before he disappeared in the crowd behind Patrick’s back.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he cupped your face, looking into your eyes. “You know him?”

“No…It was my fault, to be honest. I didn’t see him coming…”

“Forget about it. Lets go to our seats. I will get you something tasty, you must be so hungry. After our little fun…” He cooed with you, encircling your waist as you moved across the dancefloor.

When you had almost reached your table, an unfamiliar female voice called out suddenly for Patrick. Turning around, you saw a beautiful woman with blonde hair and red lipstick. She was definitely a model–you thought, looking at her from head to toe, noticing how extremely short her black dress was.

“Patrick, I thought I was mistaken.” She smiled at him, pretending you were not here.

“Hello,” he grinned in reply, and there was something wrong in the way they were starring at each other. “Cupcake, go get yourself a drink. I will join you shortly.” Patrick whispered into your ear and handed you some money, as he was gently hugging your shoulders.

“Really?” Was the only thing you said.

“Be a good girl and just do what I say, okay?”

Slipping out of his grasp, you didn’t know how to react, feeling yourself confused and…bruised.

What was that strange feeling in your chest, was it a fucking wound that he left a long time ago when you first learned about not being the only woman in his selfish life?

You promised to yourself that you wouldn’t turn around, but you did and something inside you broke from the picture you just saw. You felt a terrible drop in your stomach, watching the way Patrick held that woman in his muscular arms, just like he was holding you some moments ago.

Sadly, you shook your head and continued your way to the bar, trying so hard to forget the things which couldn’t be forgotten. Not now, not later. He was everywhere: in your mind, in your soul, it seemed like he was even in your blood…

Lost in thought, you didn’t notice that you made it to the bar, looking around like a lost kitten. Tired and exhausted, you took a seat, fumbling with the bills in your hands before you crumpled them with anger, ripping them apart; some tears dropped onto the counter beside you.

“Ma'am, what would you like to drink?” a sudden male voice made you flinch and came back to the reality. “Is something wrong?”

Brushing your tears away, you looked up at the young bartender who was standing across the bar counter. “No, I guess. Everything is fine.”

“That doesn't seem to be true…” he pulled out a small glass from under the counter. “Nobody should be sad, especially pretty girls like you.”

You smiled through the pain, watching him making a shot for you, but you couldn’t tell which one exactly.

“Here you go,” he put a drink on the counter. “I hope it will cheer you up a bit.”

“Thank you, but I…I’m afraid I don’t have any money to pay.” You looked at the torn bills in your hands.

“Compliments of the house.”

With these words, the bartender walked away to another client, and you were alone once again. After some time, you suddenly caught yourself thinking that you didn’t want Patrick to come back for you… No, you were about to leave this place right now and you didn’t care if he would be so-fucking-angry with your misbehaviour. To make yourself even more brave, you drank a glass in one gulp and then; you thanked the bartender for being so nice and headed to the exit. To be fair, you were so nervous about meeting Bateman on your way to the main door, but thank God you didn’t.

That was the first time you were coming home alone, and it seemed like you would have to get used to it. Next time you would see him, you let him know–you were not "sweet" anymore. Just like there was no more “Cupcake", and it felt like there never was…

#patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman headcanon #patrick bateman #slasher x reader #slasher smut

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artiststarme · 1 year

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Staying Alive, Staying Alive

I was feeling a little angsty today and now here we are. I hope you guys like this and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

Title brought to you by @lumoschild!

~*~*~*~

Steve’s stomach dropped when he heard Dustin’s screaming from the trailer park. He and the girls were only about halfway back in their trek when they started hearing his cries which caused Steve to sprint in his direction. Why was Dustin screaming and where was Eddie? They were supposed to be out of danger. They were the goddamn decoys and Steve told them not to be heroes!

The sight he stumbled on when he broke through the barrier of the trees would forever haunt him. Just past the rows of trailer homes, Dustin was knelt on bloodied knees, sobbing, with an unmoving Eddie situated half on his lap. The two of them were sitting in a pond of blood that was growing ever larger. Steve had never seen Munson so still, he was always flamboyant and larger than life in everything he did. His face, usually so expressive and full of life, had never been so pale either, only made worse with the sluggishly bleeding wounds still leaking from his neck and torso.

“Dustin!” Steve screamed for him as he ran closer and fell to his knees beside him in a careless slump. “What happened? When’d he stop breathing?”

“I-I don’t know, just before you got here, I guess. He-he saved me. He didn’t run away this time, Steve.” He grabbed onto Eddie’s shoulders even stronger in a desperate hug while tears ran down his cheeks.

“Okay, I know he didn’t. Munson’s a strong guy and he still has fight left. I need you to put him down so I can bring him back, okay?” Steve muttered soothingly. If Eddie had just lost his pulse a few minutes ago, there was still a chance that he could get his heart beating again.

“What? Steve-”

“Put him down, Dustin!” Steve would feel bad for yelling at him later but he had a very limited window for CPR to work and he didn’t have time for any more niceties.

Dustin flinched back as if struck and let go of Eddie abruptly. His face screwed up in a vicious sob when Steve started applying forceful compressions to his friend’s chest. “Steve, you’re hurting him!”

“He can’t feel pain if he’s dead, Dustin! If this works, he can complain about it later.” Steve struck Eddie’s chest over and over again to the beat of Stayin’ Alive by the Bee Gees like he was taught to as a swim instructor. He never could’ve imagined then that this is how he’d be using his skills.

Both Dustin and Steve winced when they heard Eddie’s ribs crack but Steve didn’t stop applying his full body weight into every push. Nancy and Robin showed up at some point between Steve giving compressions and breathing into Eddie’s mouth but he paid them no mind. In fact, he didn’t pay anything any mind until Eddie gasped for air on his own.

“Eddie!” Dustin yelled and tried to scramble away from Nancy’s arms that restrained him.

“Ouch,” Eddie whispered before his eyes slid shut once more.

“No, no, no. Munson, wake up. Keep your eyes open. We have to get out of here, c’mon. Robin, help me pick him up,” Steve ordered. She quickly stepped forward and helped situate Eddie bridal-style in his arms. With a few well-placed cloths to act as bandages, she patted Steve’s shoulder and he bolted towards the gate in the Munson trailer. The entire Upside Down started shaking and the ground started to fracture in a horrific version of ‘the-floor-is-lava’ game.

But Steve could only focus on holding pressure against a particularly deep wound on Eddie’s side and the soft breaths fanning his neck. One step in front of the other, he sprinted as fast as he could without jostling the injured man in his arms too much. His efforts proved fruitless if the muffled moans of pain into his ear indicated anything.

When he got to the trailer, Robin was right behind him. She threw the door open and pushed the small kitchen table underneath the quaking gate and threw herself through first, ungraceful and uncoordinated as it was, in order to catch Eddie when Steve pushed him through the portal. Which she did. By falling with him and kneeing him in the spine. Seeing them mostly safe, Steve carefully guided Dustin onto the table and threw the gate with his injured leg and then offered a hand to Nancy and gave her a gentle push.

As the gate started to close, he hardly had enough time to jump through the portal into the Rightside Up himself. He could feel the sizzling heat on his sides and burning on the outer parts of his leg until his back met a soft surface on the ground. He made it.

They didn’t have time to celebrate though because Dustin was crying in pain about his leg, Robin was rubbing her side in discomfort, and Eddie was still groaning and bleeding out onto his own stained mattress. Steve’s sides were screaming but he didn’t have time to acknowledge his own wounds until he was sure his friends would survive.

“Alright Nancy, where’s your car? We have to get to the hospital.” Steve asked her, easily falling into the position of leader once more.

“Um, it's right outside.” With a peek out the trailer’s window, Steve could definitely see that it was not.

“No it isn’t. Where’d you park it?”

“I swear,” Nancy promised. “I parked it right in front of the door. We’ll just have to call for an ambulance.”

Steve shook his head and ran a stressed hand through his hair. Eddie didn’t have time for an ambulance. With the earthquakes and the preexisting stigma around the people that lived at Forest Hills, an ambulance would take up to thirty minutes and he didn’t have that. Fuck, what were they going to do?!

He sent another glance out the window to see a small sedan parked outside the neighboring trailer. Bullseye.

“Okay, new plan. Eddie and I are going to hotwire that car and drive to the hospital. You guys are going to call an ambulance and meet us there.” He nodded to himself and went to pick up a blurry-eyed Eddie.

“Steve, we should stick together. It’s not smart to go off on our own,” Nancy expressed condescendingly.

“Well, no one’s ever mistaken me for being smart so I guess that’s par for the course. We’ll see you at the hospital.” Then they were off. Steve was once again carrying Eddie as gently as he could but this time Eddie’s eyes were open and searching.

“Who knew that Steve Harrington would be so adamant on keeping me alive?” He muttered.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Munson.”

“I’m bleeding all over you, surely we’re on a first name basis now. Right Steve?” His tone was pretty challenging for a guy that was dead less than five minutes ago.

“You can call me whatever you want, Eddie. Just keep your eyes open.”

“Okay, I’ll try my best. What’re you planning on doing? Lisa always leaves her car locked,” he said as soon as he saw the direction Steve was walking in.

Steve didn’t dignify his question with a response. He just grabbed the ax from its position secured on his back and swung the dull edge towards the driver’s side window, shattering it instantly.

“Holy shit,” Eddie murmured in amazement. Unknowingly to Steve, that was the exact moment that Eddie fell in love with him. He had risked his life to save him in the Upside Down and carried him bridal-style out of hell. Now he was committing crimes to keep him alive and looking hot while doing it. Eddie’s heart didn’t stand a chance.

Steve gently leaned Eddie against the car while he worked to get the driver’s side door open and then picked him up again to gently settle him in across the backseats. His movements caused Eddie to whimper in pain but they were so close, they couldn’t stop now.

“Okay Munson, focus. How do I hotwire this car?” Steve looked back at him and saw the seats quickly staining red. “Shit Eddie! Put pressure right there, we have to slow the bleeding. C’mon, how do I do this?

Eddie tried to press his bandana into his worst wound as he gave Steve directions. “Pull off the steering column and grab the wires. Did you get my pliers? You’ll need those to strip the coating.”

“Yep. Okay, I got the cover off and I see the wires. What next?”

“There-there should be… two wires. One red and one black. You have to s-strip them and tap them together until the ignition starts…”

His voice started to taper off towards the end of his explanation and he could hardly keep his eyes open anymore. Steve pulled the wires from the steering column and stripped them just as Eddie had in the RV. When he looked into the backseat, he did a double take. Eddie’s skin was even paler and clammier than it had been before. Most worryingly though, his eyes were glazed and his breathing was labored. Steve reached an arm back to shake at his shoulder.

“Don’t fucking die, Eddie! I didn’t carry you out of the goddamn Upside Down just for you to die in some stranger’s backseat.” He hissed in angered panic.

“Ooo kinky.” Eddie mumbled through chapped lips.

“Not kinky, dying is not kinky! Wake up, Eddie!”

Just then, the engine turned over and the ignition started. “Yes, yes! Eddie, hold on. I got the car to start. C’mon man, five minutes to the hospital. You’ve got this.”

“Okay…” Eddie whispered. Steve could hardly breathe as he sped down the roads and broke every traffic law. He didn’t care about the consequences of his actions as long as Eddie lived. He didn’t care about speeding tickets or jail time, he just needed his new friend to survive.

“Eddie, you doing okay?”

“I wouldn’t… characterize this as- as being… okay,” he answered between labored breaths.

“You’re doing great, man,” Steve told him. He looked back at him in the rearview and saw Eddie’s eyes looking back at him.

“Thanks for doing this, Stevie. You didn’t have to. You-you could’ve left me there-”

“Shut up, man. I wasn’t going to leave you after you risked your life to help us. You’re one of us now whether you like it or not.” Steve told him. He wasn’t going to stand for any self-deprecating comments after he’d almost died (did die for a few minutes) to save Dustin.

Eddie hummed before the car lapsed into silence for the next minute or so, only broken by the sounds of Eddie wheezing for air and Steve’s fingers shaking against the steering wheel. When they arrived at the hospital, Steve pulled right in front of the emergency room and screamed for help. Nurses, doctors, and assistants came rushing out to help him and they placed Eddie on the gurney.

His lips were red with blood and his face was ashen without it. But when Steve looked at him, he smiled wide. “I’ll see you later, Big Boy.”

Steve couldn’t even threaten the hospital staff to treat him well or tell them to ignore the rumors on TV (although he would find out later that Nancy and Robin did that well enough on their own). As soon as Eddie was wheeled out of sight, Steve collapsed from his own injuries.

Just a few days later, Steve woke up from sedation to find himself in a hospital bed with Eddie as a roommate. And if his heartbeat sped up on the monitor when Eddie smiled at him, well, that wasn’t anyone’s business but theirs.

Permanent tag list:@doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @straight4joekeery @trippypancakes @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @perseus-notjackson @anaibis @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @grtwdsmwhr @manda-panda-monium @lumoschild

#Robin walks into their shared hospital room just a few days later to find them kissing in the same bed #They end up clearing Eddie's name by blaming Jason and pointing out that he had connections to all the victims #unlike Eddie #Dustin is really happy that they're friends now until he walks into their hospital room to see them making out #then he's not so happy (they're both his brothers so its basically incest)#Wayne finds out about Steve carrying Eddie to safety and decides that the kid was going to become a Munson one way or another #whether he married Eddie or got adopted by Wayne #stranger things #steddie #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #dustin henderson #nancy wheeler

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awesome-cookies-and-cream · 1 year

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the funny thing about kyuushi is how it drops lore in akajas instead of the main manga but because it’s an episodic gag manga, i guess you can’t help it. but with all the lore i got so far (and what a difficult thing it is. thank you dedicated fans) i think i like how the central theme really is the human-vampire (esp hunter) relationship.

am i really writing meta about the vampire cock and boobs show? of fucking course. though less than meta it’s just me writing my thoughts

but with the recent akaja with northdin, it really occurred to me that the lore’s narrative had always hung on the fact that the 1800′s was a difficult time for everyone and now times are changing. how the vampire-human conflicts probably had so many casualties and how what we’re seeing is the aftermath of the event. a post-war recovery, if you will and it’s been centuries sure but vampires live so long it might as well be just five years ago to them. the vampire lore seems to be a story about how you deal with the after effects of conflict when you live so damn long. in fact, it’s so deep in the dragon clan’s narrative, that their feelings of loneliness, failure, and frustrations all goes back to that time.

Grandpa misses his friend (who is a hunter lmao) and thinks wistfully about how the time has changed and humans and vampires working together is such a lovely sight (as seen when he played tag with everyone in shin-yoko). he misses helsing so much and hopes he was still around to show what humans have done in the present. “Take care of your human friend” he says to Draluc, looking so sad most of the time but trying to connect with humans due to his fondness for them.

Mira doesn’t care much for humans but because of the conflicts and her hopes to make a better world for her son, she ended up not seeing him throughout his childhood and not even knowing him 200 years later. she doesn’t know the man he’s become. she doesn’t know he has a familiar. she doesn’t know he loves his friends and he’s happier with them. she knows he was lonely but simply thought it was her failure that made it so. so she selfishly kidnapped her own son and turned him into a kid again to fulfill her own desires. she was worried and frustrated at the fact that she seemed to have missed her chance to be with him until draluc pointed out that there was still time to get to know each other

Draus sheltered his son and did all he could to keep him safe knowing he was weak. (when northdin mentioned how seeing draluc die was so chilling, he understood why Draus was like that) the human-vampire conflict worsened his anxiety for his son who could not use the dragon blood’s powers due to how weak he was. so he ended up spoiling him, his only son. he even made a ring to ensure the kid’s protection from other clans. he met with the other clan leaders and in his own way and influence, tried to make the world a better place for him. By the time his son sought independence, he still couldn’t help but worry about him.

And then there’s northdin who does not like humans at all. like Draus, he worries for Draluc in his own way even when the kid had no respect for him. (like fucking hell that akaja) he’s anxious about trying to make the kid stronger because the human conflict is getting worse, which was why he took the kid under his wing to begin with. He cared for the kid to the point of running straight to them when he found out an exorcist had found draluc, even begging that he could drive a stake to his heart if he promised to keep the kid safe. and it was this that changed clergy at the time of the human-vampire conflict too! which led to northdin turning him and how he’s lived with the regret when he didn’t wake up to the point that his diary is a mess (again that fucking akaja) and now they met and there’s closure to it.

and then there’s draluc who is caught in between. being young and sheltered to not know enough about the conflict (i mean he sat and had tea with a goddamn exorcist lol) and having experiences that’s indirectly caused by the conflict. his weakness and sheltered life in the middle of the fights had isolated him from others, but also made him lonely. his mother couldn’t see him due to her work. he didn’t have friends and he was treated as a delicate thing. his first friend was John, who he was reluctant to take with him due to the fear of trapping him forever in a life of eternal loneliness with him (even though he was so overjoyed at finally having a friend!) “im not lonely. i have john” but it’s different now that he’s in shin-yoko. everyday has been fun for him.

and now, in the present you can see how these people are trying to heal from the aftermath and how ronaldo and draluc’s relationship is somehow central to it, the proof of the future they had aspired, or the closure they had always wanted. ronaldo and draluc’s easy friendship has touched grandpa, who had always wanted the easy friendship between vampires and humans (edit: i reread the grandpa tag chapter and he had a flashback of his friend through ronaldo?? god fucking dam), how ronaldo and hinaichi looking for draluc when mira took him made her understand that his son is not the kid he used to know, that she didn’t really know him but it’s not too late to. How Ronaldo being there to take care of draluc had reassured Draus that his son would be okay and he won’t be lonely. (northdin is a work in progress lol. but he’s also working on his issues with his guilt for clergy. which draluc was responsible for ahaha)

and now Draluc is no longer lonely and has someone to be with. someone who is always fun and doesn’t treat him like a delicate flower (for better or worse) but is also reliable enough to save him (ranging between kidnapping to the getting flushed down the drain lol) and they’re trying to love happy now. a lot of vampires are. so i think it’s nice. i have no idea what im saying.

#kyuushi #kyuuketsuki sugu shinu #tvdint #the vampire dies in no time #94 #im posting cringe and i beg my friends here to look away and ignore me lmao #but i have no one to talk to about it so i'll scream to the void #this was a talk about the dragon clan and how their worries kinda revolve around the war and draluc #and how draluc and ronaldo kinda addressed this #but at the end part i just ended up ranting about ronadora #like after everything i wrote i kinda understand why the whole clan was so happy to see ronaldo lmao #they're like it's just a castle go for it #they practically accepted him without question #im half sure 30 yrs later all of them are like you can join the family if you want you know #im sure at this point even if draus is reluctant about it #he basically considers ronaldo his son #ronadora #draluc #ronaldo (kyuuketsuki)#please don't mind me #look away #wait actually writing all that doesn't sound kyuushi at all lol???#it sounds so serious HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

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atomic-crusader · 5 months

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Godzilla Minus One thoughts (SPOILERS)

TLDW: Godzilla Minus One is easily one of the all time best films in the franchise so far. While it isn't my personal favorite, it absolutely deserves the praise fans and critics seem to be giving it. Outside from some personal nitpicks, I'd say this entry is worthy of standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the best.

10/10

THOUGHTS AND SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT!!! GO SEE IT!!!!!!

Boy does this movies come in swinging! Koichi setting up the main conflict of feeling like he is a coward (he's not, as the movie goes on to point out) and then the whiplash of GODZILLASAURUS

I know its just an unmutated Godzilla but HOLY FUCK the similarities are there and I love the design.

Personal nitpick #1: was hoping the movies would go more in depth with the origin of its Godzilla but the movies isn't really about what Godzilla is but rather what he does and represents to the story. As a result they don't really say what he is other than he is known to Odo Island's folklore. I like that, it gives him a mysterious vibe.

I gasped because I thought he ate a guy be then he yeeted him

Poor Koichi Can't Catch a Break the Movie

Noriko was great. It's clear she isn't used to being looked after and it shows.

Speaking of which, ALL the characters are wonderful. The Reiwa era looks like it is being defined by stronger human characters and stories and I am all here for that!

I'm actually surprised that the trailers (or at least the 2 I watched) didn't show to much Godzilla action. Or at least the final battle.

Godzilla REALLY has it out for folks in this movie. That lack of a clear origin helps actually. His attacks are sudden and brutal. He is REALLY visibly pissed off too.

SPEAKING OF BRUTAL HOLY FUCK!!! For as much damage Godzilla does to everyone, he gets FUCKED UP! Half his face blasted off! It's cool the see his regeneration ability realized in CG

Personal Nitpick #2: I do wish they had made Godzilla a more obviously tragic character. He is just as much a victim of war as he is a symbol of it. Again though, that isn't what this movie is about, and the ending does at least suggest a sequel isn't completely out of the question, so maybe we can still see why Godzilla decided that All Humans Are Bad.

His atomic breath is wild man. Creating mushroom clouds and massive creators is some nightmare fuel shit.

NORIKO NOOOOOOOOO :(

(dont worry she lives)

The plan to kill Godzilla was interesting. Explosive decompression is not really the first thing I would have thought up for a sea monster that brings up deep sea fish but the speed at which it happens is important.

KOICHI NOOOOOO (its okay he ejected)

Personal Nitpick #3:... I don't really like how they defeated Godzilla. I thought it was overkill. Like, yeah I get that Koichi needs to have is moment and all but blowing his head up I thought was a little much. and then he crumbles away? I guess he was frozen? Cool visual though. I imagine it was hell to convince Toho to have Godzilla die that way.

I heard Yamazaki was a big GMK fan, and the last scene really makes it obvious. I wonder if he isn't available for a sequel, Yamazaki would request Kaneko to direct...

Hey Noriko is alive!!!! Hey what's that on her neck? Why does it look like Godzilla's dorsal plate? Oh God Please Let Koichi Be Happy He Has Been Through Too Much.

The overall message of the movie is so goddamn moving, Live. That isn't a request, that's an order, a demand. Live, you should be happy to be alive. You may not think it, but people love you. People can forgive you. You don't deserve to die. Live and fight for the next generation so they don't make our mistakes. It is tough but you and people around you can make it better. You. Will. Live.

#godzilla #toho #kaiju #tokusatsu #godzilla minus one #godzilla minus one spoilers #review

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stem-sister-scuffle · 3 months

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STEM SISTER SCUFFLE: ROUND 1 MASHUP 1

Shion Usuki (Xenosaga) vs Jadzia Dax (Star Trek Deep Space 9)

Shion Uzuki is a Computer Scientist and Roboticist!

Jadzia Dax is an Astrophysicist and Xenobiologist!

Why you should vote for each contestant:

Shion Uzuki:

"OK SO. Shion makes me very deranged so sorry for the 1.7k word essay in your inbox but also you asked for it and im not sorry. Right so on the science side, she and her Tragically Dead lover built KOS-MOS(a robot girl she has lesbian subtext with), who is designed to fight the eldritch abominations from space. She later has to rebuild KOS-MOS by herself and does so. She is very good at her job and the head and Chief Engineer of the KOS-MOS Project at the start of the game (at age 22).

Like this a 00s Main Character who is a woman in STEM who is single during the games themselves and gets to be Complicated. That in of itself is pretty subversive(so subversive there is a large contingent of dudebros who hate her to this day) and awesome, but the real kicker is how she is written.

She is also an extremely well written and developed character (ESPECIALLY for a 00s character)who has one of the most realistic depictions of complex-ptsd in media I have seen to this day. Very few characters come close or top her in my eyes. She is one of the best written characters in the 'xeno' metaseries imo, and that is VERY stiff competition if you have ever watched LPs or played those games.

I feel she should get best woman in STEM more because of how incredible of a character she is than anything else (though she is super smart and good at her job, its just the focus of the games is on her character development over her work).

!!SPOILERS FOR A EXTREMELY PLOT HEAVY GAME SERIES BELOW SERIOUS SPOILERS!! Also uh content warnings for abuse and trauma and stuff.

The majority of this is gonna be on how amazing of a character she is, more than anything so sorry if that wasnt what you were looking for. Promise shes doing science in the games and stuff. So Shion has got that PTSD, and her character arc is the continual chronic trauma piling up until her (not very good) coping mechanisms no longer work and she breaks down and hits rock bottom. It is here with the help of her friends that she finds the resolve to push through just a little bit longer and still find hope in the world. She ends the series on a hopeful (yet bittersweet) note. What is so good about her character arc is that its so realistic. She doesnt get stronger in the face of overwhelming trauma, she breaks down and begs for it all to stop already, and its only through others stepping in to help her despite her best efforts does she find the strength to have hope again at the end. People rarely get better in the face of The Horrors, they break or get worse. People don't expect this of characters and its rare to see, but characters that break are so important IMO, because trauma DOES THAT.

Shions life is a horror show and responsible for At Least Half the content warnings this game has(there is a lot), she even keeps getting goddamn EMAILS all through the first game while actively in the middle of a crisis, and yet she still pulls through. Its cathartic and wonderful to see a character stumble into a happy ending, not really heroically as much as teeth-grit dragging herself across the finish line, but getting it all the same.

They wrote that ptsd amazingly- so much so that long before you get to the specific trauma later games reveal, she displays traits that function as foreshadowing that you can pick up and guess. Her every action and reaction is informed by her trauma and its incredible how much thought went into it.

Early in the first game she has a seemingly hypocritical reaction to not removing the remote self-destruct sequence in the sapient robot people in the setting when she otherwise is very strongly for equal rights for them, until its revealed that she was there as a child during an incident when a whole bunch of them went berserk (because god melts people's brains and that virally infected them all- its this whole Thing) and killed a whole ton of people, including family in front of her. After this incident it was required to have this self destruct switch to prevent that from ever happening again.

This incident is also why she got into robotics and programming, because she didn't want to be scared of them and learned to see them as people in a way many others in the world don't. Her short temper is very clearly emotional disregulation characteristic of ptsd from her life of unresolved and untreated chronic trauma going back to her childhood. In the first game, she is still deeply in mourning (because her lover -named Kevin- got brutally murdered in front of her a few years previous) and still mostly running on the programming Kevin instilled(Kevin is also later revealed as a manipulative abusive dickbag), but over time she starts shaking it off- just in time for the plot to hit her over the head again (but we will get to that).

One thing people forget about ptsd is that it can make you just so ANGRY, and its nice to see a character that has that ptsd expression. That isnt the perfect 'good survivor' in response that people like. She makes bad decisions, she pushes people away, she gets snappy because she is running at the end of her rope by the third game and shaking her kneejerk fawn response. She is in a world where so much just keeps happening beyond her control and its horrible, and well, when you are in a situation like that you lash out just to control *something*. The narrative takes the time to be sympathetic to her even when she does this, and it means a lot to me to see that. And now we get to Kevin.

Shion is just starting to get better somewhat. Things are still terrible, but she is starting to have some progress on unpacking trauma and everything... Until a resurrected Kevin shows up and RUINS EVERYTHING.

See as stated before, Kevin is an abusive manipulative sack of dicks. When we see him at first in games one and two and up until his reveal, the red flags are all glossed over and barely noticeable because we are seeing things from Shion's unreliable memories and perspective. Kevin was well-liked, so people have good things to say about him too, which reinforces this. Shion very much behaves, if you know what to look for, like someone whos been through some specific emotional abuse, even as early as the first couple hours of the first game.

But then he shows up (clearly working for the bad guys) and ruins all the progress made. Then asks Shion to join him.

And after some time, Shion agrees, and goes back to her abuser. When people write abuse victims in media, the always make what people tend to consider is 'the right decision'. Very rarely, if ever, do they go back to their abusers the way people often do in real life. A lot of people don't leave their abusers, or they may leave but they go back later. Shion just wants to be happy and not in pain, and at least with Kevin she knows there will be nice things sometimes, instead of the horrorshow that is currently happening. She knows he is using her, that he WILL hurt her again, but she doesnt care because in the moment it feels like the decision that will keep her happiest and most safe.

She feels in the moment -especially critical to this- its the decision that will keep all of her friends the most safe. She is protecting them from Kevin by giving herself up and begging them to stand down. I feel that is something most people dont catch. She is playing peacemaker with her abuser to protect the party, and it doesnt work, but she tried. They never directly say that she has done this kind of thing before, but the very quick way Shion tries to smooth things over implies that this is something she has done in the past and she is trying to make it work again.

When you have been in a relationship like that, sometimes the abuser feels safer(better the devil you know, etc), and when Shion is mostly running on the basest of instincts to survive because trauma DOES THAT to people, yeah is incredibly realistic she went back. Its incredibly well written and agonizing to see.

After this, the party does convince her to leave again, but not before you are forced to fight her in one of the most emotionally painful boss fights in the series.

Key to convincing her to finally leave him is KOS-MOS, who all this time Shion was treating as a person until she became one. KOS-MOS and this other guy named Allen whos sort of her love interest but they never get together on screen give a dramatic speech and she decides that its time to give up on Kevin because her friends wont give up on her.

So we get to loop this back around to her job again! Yes- her being in STEM caused KOS-MOS to exist which saved the world and also her. Her being in STEM and good at it caused Allen to meet her and gain a big fat crush on her that Also saves the world despite him never actually being in the party (thats the power of a workwife!). Science wins!

All of this is also ignoring the actual batshit plot of xenosaga btw, which is a space opera that involves multiple bible figures, psudeo-time travel, the fact that the internet is built on everyones collective subconscious and you can therefore literally hack into someone's brain, a political faction clusterfuck, an immortal evil guy voiced by Crispin Freeman, and eldritch abomination god (who is trapped in what amounts to an infinite battery) trying to cause the apocalypse because a little girl begged for help.

Listen I know xenosaga isnt popular on here so she is probably gonna have a hard time, but that me blorbo she means a lot to me."

"super smart and pretty, loves her job and made a whole sentient humanoid robot, is an accurate representation of a mentally ill woman. play Xenosaga"

"Space lesbian. Made an android that's the reincarnation of her wife from a lifetime ago (who happens to be Mary Magdalene don't worry about that part). Trans gender."

"She's so mentally ill and loves her robot creation"

"She literally took the project her dead boyfriend was working on, which was a cyborg KOS-MOS, and managed to create a version where KOS-MOS doesn't go berserk and murder and slay. She is also captain of VECTOR. Robotics/cyborgs are her special interest. We stan a girlboss. shes gay af"

"She built her robot girlfriend and managed to creat a version of her where she doesn’t kill innocent people"

"Gay for the robotic war machine she created <3 Girlboss, sad-girl, mad scientist, mecha pilot. She really has it all."

"She made a billion dollar government funded battle android into her wife, with the help of lesbian space destiny of course. She’s simply #nyasome"

"She built herself a robot girlfriend and also her and the gf are reincarnated versions of mary magdelene and her fellower. Thanks!"

"She's autistic, traumatized and made her own girlfriend, "

"She’s the chief of an android development project AND she has a special interest in providing psychological support for artificial humans! She likes women your honor"

"Helped to create anandroid named Kos-Mos who would save the universe. Was the Head and Chief Engineer of the KOS-MOS Project and lead a small group of people to help fine tune Kos-Mos. Also she's just super cool and overcomes any obstacles she may face, despite all the trauma she's been put through. Shion is great and I love her."

"She is a mentally ill legend, she will stay up past midnight programming and working on her android gf instead of going to therapy, and I just think that's really sexy and cool of her. She's the best xeno game protagonist and I will fight on this"

"made a battle robot mary magdalene. fell in love with robot mary. is a reincarnation of a girly who was in love with the OG mary thousands of years ago. whenever robot mary acts like a robot she freaks out. almost dies to get robot mary functioning at 100% several times"

"Shion joined the huge corporate conglomerate Vector Industries when she was just 18 and became head of the KOS-MOS project (her girlfriend battle android) at age 22. Shion’s character growth throughout the series is amazing as she has to deal with her childhood trauma, facing her abuser, and moving on from the past by making steps towards the future. At the end of Episode III Shion finally stops being passively strung along the plot and begins to take steps on her own, embodying the themes of making your own ripples and seizing the future. Also Shion is very gay and is the wife of Mary Magdalene. Not kidding! LESBIAN SHION THE WORLD SHION/KOS-MOS NUMERO UNO CAMPÃO DO MUNDO

"She is the best woman in STEM because she is a very deep character who has an amazingly hard hitting story. She has realistically written PTSD, and is heavily implied to have BPD as well. She shows some very ugly symptoms, and even goes through no character development in the first third of the series which shows how deeply depressed and hurt she is. However, in episode II she begins to show signs of healing. Episode III absolutely goes haywire with her recovery process. She has many ups and downs, and even turns to her abuser, but in the end she overcomes him with the help of her friends AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, her android wife that she made with her own two hands.

So like. Robot wife. Awesome. But what if this robot wife was someone you deeply loved and looked up to in your previous life? So much so that you were called her Maiden. What if you died in her arms? And then, completely unbeknownst to you, after 6000 years, she reincarnated as an android that you programmed. How crazy would that be...

KOS-MOS (the android), starts off as your typical robot without emotions. But as time goes on, she grows more and more warm. And it's all thanks to Shion.

They embrace a ton of times, with KOS-MOS even bridal carrying Shion multiple times AND riding with her in her space motorcycle. Shion is also awesome because she's Japanese and hell yeah she's not White Woman Number 4050. Win.

Um. Also she eventually rebuilt her android's frame and gave her bigger boobs. HAPPY PRIDE.

timestamp 3:30 to end of the video, witness some lesbians :) hope you enjoy if you choose to watch https://youtu.be/eY6kPp-wcKg?t=210"

Jadzia Dax:

"She does a lot of science in space — like xenobiology and physics — but is also the ranking science officer, so she covers a lot of fields. she is an expert in many scientific fields, leads a lot of other scientists, and is a badass starfleet officer who can f you UP in a fight. her alien species is a symbiotic set of species, so Jadzia’s got a worm named Dax in her and has access to all of Dax’s past hosts’ memories & knowledge, part of why she’s an expert in so many fields! but Jadzia, the host, also got multiple degrees in different fields before she was “joined” with her symbiote."

"She is a star trek science officer, so mostly space anomalies and stuff 😄 She is self assured and takes up space and just a joy to watch. All the bi girls love her 💜"

"First F/F kiss on TV"

"IMMORTAL WORM ALIEN WOMAN who has lived EIGHT LIVES and is GENDERFLUID but is CURRENTLY A WOMAN! She's great"

"She is the lead science officer on her space station! Got four degrees in astrophysics, exoarchaeology, exobiology and zoology. She is an amazing researcher! Jadzia is a Joined Trill, host to the Dax symbiont which has lived 300 years. Jadzia became a Starfleet officer and pursued her science studies before then becoming Joined, which means she also has the wealth of knowledge from Dax's multiple lives. She is an amazing scientist and also loves to have fun, and she's a genderfluid pansexual ICON."

#stem sister scuffle #round 1 #shion uzuki #xenosaga #jadzia dax #ds9 jadzia #star trek ds9

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myddle · 7 months

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"Casper & Nova" And "Cheers": The Beginning Of My Anime Villain Arc

After ruminating on it for a long time (this is the second draft of this goddamn post), I've come to understand what my issues were with the Fionna & Cake finale, and I'm ready to discuss it.

Big thanks to @bettycrockerscookbook and his post, "Fionna and Cake is a narrative about loss of agency, and I don't know if that was on purpose", it really helped me get my thoughts in order. There is some overlap between that post and mine, but my views predate reading it, although they are reworded for clarity.

Warning: Big Post, Spoilers, Opinions

I get what they were going for. I have full respect for everyone who loved the finale, and I give them all hugs and kisses.

But... it just didn't click for me. I still love the rest of the show, but I couldn't believe it's conclusion, and it left me feeling all hollow and rotten afterwards. I don't know it there's going to be a second season, but the ending felt very "happily ever after", so lets just presume not for now, and get into some things.

That Glitch Glitched Right Out Of The Plot

I probably should have seen this coming after BMO's corpse glitched in front of everyone and they didn't react, but it still sucks we didn't get an answer to this mystery, or at least some commentary on it. Heck, even back in "Winter King", Simon's tone describing the normalised Ice crown is more of dissapointment than confusion. It just feels like a waste, after all the set-up; I was excited to learn what was really going on there, or see how it would affect our protagonists.

Credit Where It's Due: The Lich/GOLB Scene Is Kinda Perfect

I don't wanna be too negative, so I must say I LOVED THIS SCENE. The Lich has been an insurmountable force of destruction for the whole series, both physically and morally, so seeing the one thing that could finally break him - his success - is fascinating to me. And then, without a word, GOLBetty dissassembles him in a horrifying display and turns him into one of those Tetris Blocks... I guess they must be GOLB's literal building blocks for crafting it's machinations. A terrifying glimpse into the Chaos God's methods.

Do We Have Time For A Choose Your Own Adventure Right Now, We Only Have Two Episodes Left

The Casper & Nova segment was super neat, and it was cool to see 1000+ Ooo again, but... I don't know. This framing device within a framing device is an awful lot of setup to do in the second to last episode. This is honestly more of a time-constraint issue though; I'd probably be more forgiving of it if I was on board with the rest of the finale.

Petrigrof Did Nothing Wrong (Except For The Things They Did That Were Wrong)

Simon and Betty's final goodbye was beautifully made. A heartfelt message of recognising and accepting the mistakes of your past. I just don't think I agree on what those mistakes are.

The concept of someone going along with everything their partner wanted, and the partner not realising because they were still happy, is an amazingly nuanced arc, but I don't think it fits Simon and Betty's relationship. Betty had agency, and wasn't afraid to disagree with Simon; just look at the way she dealt with the snakes, or how she kept Simon alive as Ice King against his wishes in hopes of curing him. And speaking of which, I don't think Betty was wrong for wanting to cure Simon - he DID NOT WANT to be Ice King - she just became too reckless and self-destructive. Summoning and merging with motherfucking GOLB was unambiguously a mistake, there were other things she could have done (I reckon Simon being vampirised by Marceline, then destroying the Crown would've worked, but that's not as good of a story).

I think a message on stopping the cycle of sacrifice would've been stronger, more coherent, but this sequence is still incredible.

Who Needs Stakes: Just Barf Up A Fuckin' Dandelion For The Class

Most of the stuff before this was nitpicks, and I wouldn't need to make this post if that was it. This is where we get into the things that I actually take issue with.

So the chain of events is Simon doesn't want the responsibility of the City of Um in his head, so GOLBetty (I think) compells the world out of him in the form of a dandelion. He gives the dandelion to Fionna, who blows on it to give it to everyone in the City, and then the world... becomes authorised? Huh? What? Like, I get the sentiment, but this feels like an asspull. And such a waste of plot, too! The idea of an entire universe being descriminated against by a celestial corporatocracy is so cool! I wanted to hear about the ideology behind that, and I wanted to see that injustice fought. But instead, they just... made it okay now, in a way that wasn't established as an option at all.

Doctor Petrikov: Multiverse Of Messed Up Implications

Most of my bigger points are really just differences of opinion: me not being happy with what the show turned out to be. But this? This is actually a plot hole.

To assist our heroes, Prismo decides to send in Jay and Little Destiny from Farmworld, Baby Finn from Baby World, and the Peppermint Tank from Vampire World. And after the dust settles, they just... stay there. Worse, the other characters from those worlds are never touched on again, despite the huge opportunity to do so in the ending montage. Are we just not supposed to care about those worlds? Is Farmworld Finn alive? What about Jay's siblings? Did Vampire World Bonnibel and Marceline kill eachother? Is the Vampire King just free to rule unopposed? WHAT ABOUT JAY'S SIBLINGS!?

Also, why didn't Prismo just teleport Scarab out of there? The tank didn't even do anything.

While I'm on the topic, check out OSP's Detail Diatribe on "The Multiverse Problem", it was very informative for my perspective here.

Alright, I Get It, Fionna Is A Bad Person For Wanting More Out Of Life

The series ends with Fionna learning to be happy in a mostly unchanged City of Um, and I just... I don't buy it. I cannot believe that Fionna is happy there after the song we opened this series on.

I'm not really feeling like my self today Hated every job I've had, what's wrong with me Every day's the same; Painfully mundane 'Cuz I'm running from my feelings and my fear of sudden change Everytime I leave my room, I wanna die Even when I'm with my friends, I'm alone inside 'Cuz nothing really matters, and I don't know what's sadder The fact I even try or that my hopes and dreams are shattered I'm not really feeling like my self today

It's probably not supposed to be one to one, but this paints a very dark picture of Fionna's psyche at the start of the series. This isn't boredom, this is a young woman being crushed by her environment.

Fionna struggled in the other universes because she didn't have her memories of Ooo, her experience of dealing with this kind of stuff. Throwing her in the multiversal deep end with none of her old life experiences didn't teach her she was wrong to want Ooo back, it just traumatised her, to the point she was arguing it was better for her universe to die than risk changing the people inside. Yes, her outlook at the beginning was childish and needed to change, but her mind overcorrected, giving her a nightmare of her desires hurting her loved ones.

And I was waiting for Fionna to realise that; that she doesn't just crave excitement, but autonomy, and heroism. That she wasn't wrong for wanting something else for herself. For being unhappy in the City of Um.

But... she doesn't. She just gives in, ready to die fighting when things looked bleak, and resigned to her fate when they recovered. Her world has functioning toilets. It's not so bad, right?

Easy to regret wanting to change your world when it's getting ripped apart in front of you.

This wasn't an either/or situation; after Scarab was dealt with, Fionna and Cake could have just pulled a Lemonhope and fucked off (Prismo would have done them the favour), but noooooo, being responsible means surrendering yourself to your own bleak existence, I guess. SPEAKING OF WHICH,

"I am myself. Like this."

When I heard Cake say this line, I was convinced that leaving the City of Um as it is would not be a happy ending. Setting aside the fact that Genderswap Ooo is technically the original version, Cake doesn't even need her memories to know that her stretchy Ooo form is her authentic self. She likes having options.

Condemning Cake to her City of Um form would be unethical, and the show knows this, because it doesn't. But what about the rest of Um's residents? Which side of the coin would they choose? They don't get that choice, because they don't even know. Gary and Marshall worry about losing their new relationship, not knowing about the potentially hundreds of years of history they've already lost. And how many more Cakes are there? Animal residents of Ooo that lost their autonomy and personhood in the shift? Lord Monochromicorn made it out alright, but I doubt Cake was the only one to suffer.

Of course, the situation isn't black and white. Some residents of Um, like Female Fern (should've been called Flora, but whatev), the Lemoncarbs and maybe Human Ice Queen (I like to call her Ice Creem) might be better off in the City of Um than Genderswap Ooo, presuming their stories resolved the same as their Ooo Prime counterparts (Considering only one Lemongrab was alive during "Come Along With Me", when the shift happened, but Um has two Lemoncarbs, I'm not convinced on that).

But ultimately, this lack of knowledge denies the people of Um the agency to choose what world they want to live in, and what form is their authentic self. Which makes Fionna's gesture of giving the world's fate to them ring pretty hollow. And as someone who is fighting very hard in hopes of living as my authentic self, this ending kinda hurts.

Disclaimer and Conclusion (unrelated pic, I just love this shot)

I'm not mad at the team behind Fionna and Cake for this ending. I definitely don't blame them for my problems with it, I don't think these dissonances were intended (unless they are gunning for a second season to resolve some of them, in which case globspeed) I respect their creative vision, and everyone who took home the good message they intended wasn't wrong to do so. From what I've seen, most people did, but some, like me, did find this ending unsatisfying.

Thing is, I'm still thankful. I loved the first eight episodes of this show, and my reaction to this finale has stirred within me the desire to make my own fan ending, as a creative excercise of sorts. Certainly fitting for a series about an in-universe fan-fic. I lost my creative drive some years ago, and I wasn't sure if I was ever going to get it back. I'm not sure how I'll go about making this fan ending, but if i manage it, I'll be sure to keep y'all posted.

So... thank you, Fionna & Cake. You got me to care about your story, and that's half the battle.

#adventure time #fionna and cake #casper and nova #cheers

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thee-morrigan · 1 year

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sincerity is scary

character(s): Holland Townsend, plus a lil Verda at the beginning (technically, Nate's not in this but my god is he living rent-free in Holland's mind) wc/rating: 3.2k / T (swearing) warnings: so many spoilers for Book 3 (all below the cut ofc!) read on ao3 in case anyone’s wondering, Holland still thinks the scariest thing she’s up against is her own stupid heart.

“Come on, Verda, you have to have something for me. I want to do things. I need to do things.”

“You know, some research suggests that feeling the need to be busy all the time is a trauma response,” the pathologist responded mildly, not looking up from the tray of instruments he was busy sterilizing. “That it’s a fear-based compulsion to distract your brain from meaningfully processing traumatic events.”

“You wanna send me those citations, then, and I can distract myself with some light reading?” Holland snapped back, but there was no heat in it.

Verda paused his work then and turned, giving a huff of laughter whose lightness was somewhat diminished by the careful assessment in his eyes as they swept her face. Although they’d started out, as many good friends do, brought together not by fate or fortune but chance proximity, they had quickly discovered bright shared threads of themselves in each other beneath the veneer of professional courtesy and had found themselves fast companions ever since.

He respected her as a colleague, of course; more than he’d expected, if he was honest. She had a stronger background in his line of work than he’d dared to hope in such a small station, which made her a useful colleague to have when he found himself stymied by something. And — perhaps most importantly — she didn’t pester him with questions she didn’t even know were asinine when a case experienced delays. He’d liked Detective Reele more or less, but she’d been marginally tolerable when things didn’t move at the speed she decided appropriate, regardless of whether he could make degraded tissue spontaneously re-materialize when she decided she wanted clearer fingerprints. No, Detective Townsend was a better colleague, that was certain.

More than just respecting her work, though, he liked Holland in general; she brought a borderline acerbic levity to the station that balanced against Tina’s more exuberant nature and his own tendency to forget to venture upstairs at least once a day. She wasn’t calmer than Tina, exactly — he wasn’t sure calm was a word that had ever been used to describe Holland Townsend. But if Tina was something in the neighborhood of bubbly, all iridescent soap shine and rounded edges, Holland was something sharper, something fizzing, like a live wire.

When he looked at her now, though, he saw less of the bright crackle of energy and more of the kind of nervous energy that led people to market abhorrent devices like fidget spinners. She looked restless. She looked tired.

—

Holland was tired. Goddamn exhausted, actually, if she was honest with herself, which seemed to be almost never these days. She didn’t let herself linger on the way that thought chafed any more than she let herself slow down enough for that bone-deep weariness to press its full weight against her.

It was better to keep moving.

“You know, you’re probably overdue for a vacation,” Verda’s voice, more tinged with concern than it had been a moment ago, cut through her reverie. “I’m pretty sure your promotion to detective didn’t entitle you to less PTO.”

The spark of wry humor in his comment didn’t fully mask the shade of careful observation in his eyes, but…it was an attempt. An easy out for her to muster her usual grinning nonchalance — the irreverent charm Adam had once snarked at her about relying on too heavily.

If it ain’t broke, I guess, she thought, swallowing the urge to sigh as she indeed summoned a half-smile, made herself look her friend in the eye as she tilted her head at him.

“There you go with that concern again, V,” she teased, rising from her perch on the edge of a spare lab bench.

“It’s almost like we’re friends,” he said dryly, although some of the tension in his face eased.

“Which is why I’m gonna let you get back to it and quit bugging you.” Holland moved toward the open lab door and paused, resting one hand against the door jamb as she flashed Verda a more genuine smile. “Thanks, though. For letting me bug you.”

He waved her comment off, though he returned her smile. “Anytime. Besides, I’m hoping things will finally start calming back down with those recent cases sorted. Then we’ll both probably relish any interruptions to the usual humdrum.”

It was all she could do to dredge up a hum of laughter in agreement before stepping back into the corridor, only letting her shoulders slump once she was safely ensconced in her office.

She hadn’t told any of them yet that she was leaving the station. She’d have to soon; she knew that, knew she’d been putting it off far too long already. And, as her mother had pointed out, it wasn’t as if she was never going to be able to see them again. Her friends would still be her friends. They just wouldn’t work together anymore.

Or mostly get to know what she even did for work anymore.

She wasn’t even entirely sure how much she could still keep Tina in the loop, as much as she might wish to. She didn’t have any reason to be particularly suspicious of Agent Pierson, the woman the Agency had sent to spy on Tina from within the station. But as much as she trusted Tina —with her secrets but also to take care of herself— she worried that the balm of having a confidant who was just hers was no longer truly available to her, at least not in the way it had been. Part of that fear, she knew, came from knowing she couldn’t reveal that the so-called new officer was not exactly who she seemed. In all likelihood, the whole arrangement probably really was for Tina’s safety, and probably nothing to worry about, but…Holland still felt like she was lying to her. And not the kind of lying she was comfortable with.

A liar and a coward, she thought as she sat at her desk, chin propped in her hands. She felt that constricting weight begin to settle against her, her skin too tight along her bones, and jerked to her feet again before that melancholia could curl catlike into her lap and trap her there.

She supposed it was useful that everyone had become so inured to her abrupt comings and goings from the station; no one bothered to look up as she walked out into the bright heat of the midday sun, its sticky warmth blanketing her body after a morning spent in the over-conditioned chill of the station’s air.

—

She ended up back in her apartment more out of habit than any real desire to be there. For a while, she found herself drifting, unmoored and aimless, between rooms. She should try to rest, she knew that, knew that if she could sleep she would feel better.

These days, though, she too often found herself reaching for sleep only to close her fist around endless, empty time.

She tried to read, to lose herself in another universe for a while, but gave up after she realized that while she’d technically read a whole chapter, she had no idea what had happened in it.

She thought about playing guitar but figured if she couldn’t focus on reading, she probably wouldn’t fare much better at making anything that sounded like music instead of discordant strumming.

Plus she was already bored of sitting still in the empty quiet of her apartment.

Pushing herself off her window seat, Holland strode to her dresser and tugged out shorts and a sports bra. Experience had taught her long ago that she couldn’t outrun her own brain, but at least she could tire her body enough that she was forced to sleep, at least a little.

—

Because she was already tired, it took longer than usual to find her pace, especially without any music to give her a cadence she could match. In deference to safety, she’d decided against headphones; probably a wise choice — definitely a wise choice, she reminded herself, hardly a choice at all unless she decided to start actively courting disaster — but one that did nothing to lessen the weight of that heaviness that kept pulling at her, brutal and swift as a rip current. Still, after three miles, she felt some of the tension in her body ebb, some of that near-constant tightness in her chest yielding its grip enough for breathing to come easier, deep and steady draughts of air filling her lungs.

For a long while, there was only the blessed gentle warmth of summer air, the quiet scraping thump of her sneakers against the sidewalk, and the pleasant ache of her muscles stretching and contracting. Slowly, mile after mile, she felt her body become less foreign, each pounding step bringing it closer to the skin and bones and thudding heart that she recognized as her own. Felt each clenching beat of that too-human muscle in her chest insisting it was where it belonged, safe within its cage of bone and flesh. Felt the reassurance that her heart hadn’t been torn from her chest and left, raw and bleeding, outside her body.

No matter how it might feel lately.

A liar and a coward.

The sharp dig of a knife between her ribs, the claws of that familiar tightness latching into her chest again, and—

Breathe.

She sucked in air with a sharp gasp, forced her lungs to expand, to draw air in and in and in until she could feel those claws retract.

Until she felt the thought she’d almost had, the one she still hadn’t let herself articulate even within her own mind, retract with them.

Another kind of lie. Another thing she was too much of a coward to confront.

Holland sucked in another breath, letting the sultry weight of that summer air fill her, fill all the cold, empty spaces that lurked within her. Let the warmth of it incinerate the other unarticulated thoughts and shadows of memory before they could turn their baleful, accusatory eyes back toward her.

Turning her own gaze outward once more, she scanned her surroundings, squinting at a nearby street sign as she passed and trying to decide how much further until she really would need to loop back. Holland’s run had taken her well into the outskirts of town. It wasn’t her preferred route, which snaked through the woods near the Cornerstones and eventually toward the marina, but at least this route hadn’t taken her through Wayhaven proper. Or required her to skirt the station, as her usual path would have. Even if she was leaving — even if no one seemed to really notice or care whether she was, at any given moment, in her office these days — she still didn’t think running directly past the station in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon was necessarily appropriate.

So Holland found herself instead approaching the winding series of long hills that would eventually lead her toward the hospital. Her knees ached just thinking about those hills. None were particularly steep, but they stretched further than was typically noticeable in a car. On foot, though…no, it was probably past time for her to begin finding her way back home.

It had been a while since she’d been on a long run. A long while, actually, and she knew her legs would likely ache come morning, even with the shorter maintenance runs she tried to squeeze in whenever she could. Which had been no chance at all these past weeks, between work and what felt like an endless cycle of injury and suffocatingly long recovery. Indeed, she felt the muscles in her thighs protest as she crested one hill before veering right, toward the streets leading back into town. Oh, she would certainly feel the cost of this impromptu long run in the morning.

Although it might be a nice change, she supposed, if her body ached from something other than having the shit kicked out of her by Trappers. Or crumbling buildings. Or winged giants who caused said buildings to end up in pieces on top of her. And those were only some of the most recent aches.

She rolled her shoulders, shaking her arms to diffuse the pressing tension of that memory, her breath a sharp scrape against her throat.

Fine. She was fine. Despite the strain of these past months, she continued to be perfectly fine. Had gotten through everything that’d been thrown at her. Not entirely smoothly, certainly not effortlessly, but…she had gotten through it. Would continue to do so, perhaps with greater ease than before if her new role indeed provided increased training. She could handle it. She would handle it.

It was the same argument she’d given Nate after the auction, almost two weeks ago now. As to whether she believed it any more now than she had then…another thought she wasn’t ready to have yet.

I am in love with you, Holland.

Another familiar ache in her chest, one more bruise on her already battered heart. She shut down that train of thought, almost stumbling as she worked to redirect that particular train of thought. To shut out the image that flashed across her mind’s eye, of how Nate’s face had looked in that conversation. The way he’d looked at her, the agony that had streaked across his beautiful face, and how neatly and thoroughly it had eviscerated her.

That pain. That pain that she had caused.

I don’t know how this is going to work.

She’d had to remind herself how to breathe. Had to remind herself to breathe through the lashing pain of how much she’d hated herself for putting that look on his face. And for knowing that it would likely be far from the last time.

Because she didn’t know either.

She didn’t know how to avoid it, this hurting him. Didn’t know how to be an easier person to love.

And as for what she did know, what she’d suspected and quietly fretted over for weeks now…

That hideous weight tugged beneath her ribs and Holland sped up, pushing past the bleating tremor in her thighs, the burning ache in her chest. Pushed that thought out, out, out—

“Fuck!” The word was little more than a hiss as the world tipped and roiled and Holland went flying, elbows skidding and knees barking as she hit the pavement.

Between the subsequent string of violent curses and what remained of her pride, she supposed she was relieved to still be closer to the outskirts than the town center. If running past the station in the middle of a Tuesday was arguably inappropriate, the selection of words that flew out of her mouth as she eased to a seat on the ground was indisputably so.

She winced as she examined the shredded skin on her forearms, her knees. She hadn’t even fallen well: the most she’d done before splaying gracelessly on the street had been to land more on her arms than her hands. Not her first choice, or at least it shouldn’t have been, but at least she hadn’t broken her wrists. Or anything else, as far as she could tell, looking her latest batch of wounds over as she rose to her feet.

Holland hissed again as she gingerly flexed her left leg, which had borne the brunt of the impact and now sported angry red scrapes along her knee and halfway up her thigh. Just scrapes, but ones that stretched painfully when she bent her leg.

Swallowing another mouthful of curses, she pulled free the water bottle attached to her running belt, unstoppering it with her teeth before she squeezed a stream of water along first one leg, then the other, and then the smaller scrapes on her arms and elbows. They stung like all hell, but at least they looked slightly better with most of the dirt and grime rinsed away. Naturally, she’d forgotten to bother checking if she’d needed to restock the handful of bandages she usually kept in one of the belt’s pockets; naturally, she only unearthed one after fumbling through every goddamned pocket, the lone bandage too small to be of much use unless she fancied ripping adhesive off part of an open wound later.

She exhaled, sharp and impatient, and raked a hand over the sweat-dampened strands of hair that had broken free of her stubby ponytail and now lay plastered to her forehead.

No new scars indeed. She snorted as she recalled Nate’s words in that forest clearing, back before they’d even known what manner of myth hunted her. She doubted it had occurred to him that she’d likely continue to rack up scars earned through her own sheer stupidity. God, but that felt like a lifetime ago.

She drained the remains of her water bottle before slotting it back in its elastic holster at her hip. She toed the ground, wincing at her protesting kneecap, and considered. Depending on the route she took, she wasn’t that far from her apartment. The circuitous route she’d intended to follow was obviously out, but she could take a more direct one and be back relatively quickly. Walking, it would take…she did the math, frowning. Walking back, assuming she kept her regular pace, would likely take her the better part of two hours. She stretched her legs again, shifting experimentally from one foot to the other. She was hurt, yes, but it was definitely only superficial, and not so bad she couldn’t probably run home as well as she could walk. Running would be faster, even with what would certainly be a much slower pace. Would likely cut the return time in half, actually, though she knew it would hurt. Of course, it would hurt to walk home, too.

Holland’s shoulders sagged. Since she’d stopped moving, her body had started to register physical exhaustion, had begun to grow heavy with it, and she wanted to be home. Wanted a shower and her bed and a different kind of silence than the kind that felt like a scream.

She did have another option, some small part of her mind pointed out before she shut that thought out, too. Technically, the warehouse, where she had a bed and a shower and certainly less silence, was a bit closer to her current location than her own apartment. However begrudgingly, Holland had to admit the thought tempted her. Tempted her more when she thought of the magic-imbued salve, leftover from what had been her most recent batch of injuries, stashed in a bathroom cabinet. To say nothing of the vampire whose mere presence soothed her more than any medicine.

Her frown deepened. She was tired of showing up at the warehouse battered and bloody. Really goddamned tired of it.

She straightened, rolling her shoulders and breathing deep. Her apartment wasn’t that far, and it was only a skinned knee. Well, two skinned knees, actually, and her elbows, but…

Holland released that deep breath and set off, a tentative jog while she found her new pace, toward the town center and her apartment beyond.

She didn’t much feel like reminding anyone how easily she broke apart.

#this is so maudlin lmao sorry #she's not having a great time #katie writes things #twc book 3 spoilers #twc spoilers #twc fics #oc: holland townsend #ship: your entire heart

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danielle-dna · 9 months

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To Shag or Not to Shag? - 8

The pasta was simple, yet delicious. We sat on the small balcony that had an amazing view. I could see the entire city. Of course, we spoke as well. Simon was a great listener. However, it did bother me a little that he wouldn't reveal much about himself. Sure, he told me that he likes football (Manchester United, naturally).

"You can't be serious, love. You've never seen a football match?" It was the truth. "....no? I mean I was never really introduced to it as a kid, so I was never interested." That was amusing to him. "Your dad didn't watch football then?"

Oh no! I have to talk about that piece of shit now?! Well...better sooner than later. "I don't have one." And I left it at that. Please don't be an asshole about it.

The man who calls himself my father left before I was even born. Never really had any interest in me. Not a single birthday card, phone call or visit. I find it odd, how single mothers get more stigmatised for being the parents who actually stayed and stepped up for the kid.

"I see. Sorry 'bout that." Thank fuck, please don't have follow up questions.

"Just you and your mum then?" Fuck. I flashed him a small smile and nodded. "Yeap. Just me and her." Please drop the goddamn subject now. I carefully avoided his gaze. "So tell me something, little nurse. You are 21 and you just finished A-levels? No uni and you already work in a hospital. Bit unusual." Shit.

"Well, I...took a gap year I guess. And I'm not a nurse. I'm nurses aide. You don't need to go to uni to be one." I could see him raise an eyebrow. "But if you only took a year, how-"

"Can we please drop the subject? I still don't know what you do for a living." Great job, dumbass. You just insulted the hottest man that ever laid eyes on you.

He picked up his glass of bourbon and smirked at me. "Guess."

"Say what now?" The nerve... "Guess, little nurse. You have three tries. If you get it, you get to feel even more amazing than the last time."

Oh hell yes, now this is my type of a quiz.

I nodded and stood up. "Where you going, love?" Turning around (making sure my butt was in a nice position, of course), I flashed him a smile and put my hands on my hips. "Look, you are offering one hell of a prize. I am looking for clues, because I hate to lose."

Think, woman, think.

Okay, we ruled out professional chef and anything else that makes less than £35 000 a year. What else is there? There is a gym. Maybe a personal trainer? Doesn't seem like the super social type though. He eats healthy and there is no processed shit in the kitchen. A doctor? Naaah? Too much. Well, he is fit. A surgeon maybe? He isn't a pilot, there is a dress code.

I walked back to him. "Say, Simon, how old are you exactly?" He leaned back in his chair. "28. Going to be 29 this year." Damn. He is way too young to be a surgeon making that kind of money. WHAT THE HELL?

That was when I noticed something underneath his shirt. Before I thought it was just a necklace, but now I can see there is more to it. Two small metal plates. Dog tags. Either he is wearing them as a fashion statement or....

"The army."

Simon stood up and walked towards me. I could feel the seriousness radiating from him. "What?"

I gulped and took a step back. And in that moment it hit me. I am in a man's flat. And said man is taller, stronger and scarier than me.

"What makes you say that, love?" I balled up my hands in fists and took another step back.

"Well, for starters you are very organised, tidy and hella fit. You make good money, but you aren't old enough to be a doctor, lawyer or a CEO. You don't come from money, so not a landlord or an office worker. You make at least £45k a year. The only place that I can think of is the army, but not the regular kind. You are either SAS or some kind of special forces. If you joined at 18, it would give you enough time to have a rank high enough to earn that kind of money."

He tilted his head and stared at me. "Damn it. You are...really clever, you know that?" I had no idea how to respond to that. "I mean, you got all that, just by observing me and the flat? I'm kind of scared, little nurse. You sure have potential."

Now that made me blush. "So, ghostie, you going to give me a wild night?"

#call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost smut

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clericofshadows · 10 months

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take me back to eden

Description: Post-ME2 prologue. Hannah Shepard asks for a meeting with Kaidan. They end up having a conversation far more productive than either of them imagined, and Kaidan contacts an old flame.

Paring: Male Shepard/Kaidan Alenko, Kaidan Alenko/Zaeed Massani, Kaidan Alenko/Male Shepard/Zaeed Massani (past)

Notes: I wanted to write a conversation between Regis and his mother, but this happened instead. I’ve only written in Regis’s POV so far, but this was a fun dive into Kaidan.

Kaidan stared at the glass, swirling it slightly to stir the ice and drink together before taking a sip. Freshly brewed lemonade. A surprising choice to have in an Alliance brass's office, but one he'd take over alcohol.

Because even though this conversation would be better with something stronger, he figured it would likely make things worse.

"How are you doing, Lieutenant?" Hannah asked, clasping her hands together on her desk.

"Been better, Admiral," he admitted. The memory was still fresh on his mind. Regis's last words continued to haunt him a month later.

He’s still on leave but getting closer to returning to duty. It’s been long enough, even if he has more time to spend healing.

Maybe getting back into the thick of things will help.

“Please don’t let it end this way, tell them I died on Alchera. Please, not like this… not like… this. Kaid–”

He closed his eyes for a brief moment. "But I am healing. Day by day."

"And sometimes that's all we can do," she said, taking a sip of her own lemonade. "I never thought I would lose both my son and my husband while I still lived. I know it's a lot coming from me, but even I'm here if you need it. As the mother of your lover, and not a superior officer."

Surprised at how forthcoming she was, Kaidan tilted his head to the side. "I appreciate that, ma'am. I'm sorry for your loss."

She waved it off. "We've all heard that bullshit phrase a thousand times. Tell me how you really feel."

"Really?" Kaidan questioned, voice flat.

"This is an unofficial-official meeting, if you catch my drift."

He figured it was since he still wasn’t officially back on the roster.

"Then, call me Kaidan."

"Do me the same courtesy and call me Hannah."

Kaidan took another sip of the lemonade. Regis always liked lemonade. Guess this is where he got it from. "I'm angry at the Alliance. I'm angry at all the events that led to us doing bullshit survey missions and strike teams on geth squadrons. I'm angry that Regis left me with a request that I can't fulfill. But all of it means nothing because I can't do a damn thing about any of it."

She nodded. "I've tried everything to get them to do a survey to get his body, but nothing has happened. Hell, Hackett has tried. They're afraid of a similar attack or some bullshit." She took another drink, finishing off her glass. "I was able to officially change how he died. Explosion from the ship. Still not what he would've wanted, but it's better nonetheless."

"You knew about that?"

She chuckled. "I deserve that. Yeah, I knew. It's something he confided in me during our weekly emails, not long after he enlisted. Wanting me to pull my own weight to ensure he never died in space officially. The one abuse of power he wanted me to do for him."

Kaidan knew that Regis had written conversations with his mother often, citing that it was the only way they could ever be civil. He never really knew the contents, but he should not have been surprised to hear how cordial they were. Maybe Regis's anger about his mother's overbearingness in his childhood influenced him more than he realized.

Regis influenced him in a lot of ways.

"Thank you. I'm sure you've listened to the recordings."

"Yes." Her tone was clipped. "Fuck, Kaidan,” she breathed out. “How the hell did we lose someone like Regis goddamn Shepard."

He hadn't had many conversations with Hannah until now, meeting her in short bursts and over vid comms that were sparse. This was clearly where he got his swearing habit from.

Regis goddamn Shepard indeed.

"I don't know." His voice broke a bit on the last word. "I ask myself that question every day. He managed to save both Williams and I in a blaze of biotic glory. A fucking miracle. But I wasn't able to convince him to get off the damn ship with me."

"For someone who embraced the Butcher title, he always had a heart of gold. Always cared for those he trusted with a strong passion. He would’ve stayed back to save every goddamn soul on that ship no matter what."

And that action killed him. That golden heart he kept locked up tight for few to see got him killed.

Kaidan still can’t bring himself to answer Joker’s request to talk.

Because right now, there’s no way in hell he can be civil, as unwarranted that anger might be.

Still too fresh on his mind. Still too painful to really think about.

He powers on, nevertheless.

"You know he never wanted it."

"I know. I was always so frustrated with him for not fighting back. For accepting the burden. I never hated him for making that decision; hell, I was proud of him for it. It took balls to take that upon decision himself and ensure no one else got the fall from it. No, I was angry that he let it wash over him, that he took the title and made it part of his Alliance career," she ranted, her hands balling into fists. "And I never told him that. And maybe that's because he never let me. Fuck, I couldn't even push back against my own son."

Kaidan was there for some of the sleepless nights, the anguish in Regis's screams about the mission. His nightmares that plagued him, the ghosts of his squad that died on his mission blaming him for their deaths.

He was there when Regis got his squad’s old symbol tattooed on the back of his neck, and he was there when Regis painted the symbol on his armor, nearly breaking regs in the process.

He was there when Regis cried about his mother hating him for the decision.

"You should've," Kaidan said, voice hardened by old memories. "I was there for the fallout. You weren't. And that had a larger impact on him than he'd ever wanted to admit."

She pressed her lips together in a hard line and glanced away from him. He followed her gaze to a bookshelf where two frames stood at the top. Two official Alliance portraits. One of Regis, and one of Atlas.

"He got his stubbornness from Atlas, and he got his dislike of space from Atlas. Regis got so many things from him, and I always mourned the fact that they never got to know each other. I did many things wrong during his childhood, but I was too afraid to let him go. I let Atlas go." She took a deep breath. "He was always a pilot at heart but hated anything larger than a frigate."

Keeping Regis close because she couldn’t do the same for her husband… it explained a lot.

"Did Regis know that about you?" He asked, not changing his tone.

"He did, but knowing doesn't change anything."

Kaidan finished off his lemonade, pushing the glass away from him. "No, I suppose it doesn't. I know I have a skewed view of you thanks to him."

Hannah shrugged. "And part of that is also on me. But I know for a fact that you loved him with a fierceness that Regis respected the hell out of. He never wanted to let you go the moment you two got together, and I'm happy he had someone like you fighting by his side."

Kaidan blinked a few times to try and drive off the tears that were trying to form. "I was going to propose to him after the mission, but we never had the time to make a trip to my family's property. I was going to call you and everything. Had my dad's ring waiting for him in my bedroom. Dad wanted me to give Regis the ring he got from Mom when she proposed to him."

"I would've tried my hardest to get there. And I'm sure you knew the story behind the ring on his dog tags. And now it's fucking lost. The last thing Atlas wanted to happen to his ring and of course it happened. Feels like I'm burying him twice now." She shook her head, her eyes shining with tears. "Wish I got out the hard stuff for this conversation."

A sudden wave of nausea washed over him. Not only did Regis not want to die in space, but also Atlas had similar concerns about that ring.

A terrible fucking fate.

For a moment, Kaidan wished he were back at Eden Prime. Where things all began. Where things could still be different.

“What do you think about hypotheticals? Or going back and changing things? Would you ever do it?”

“No need for that kind of bullshit imagining. I live in the moment. What happens, happens.”

Damn you, Regis.

"There's still time," Kaidan replied, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

She reached under her desk and pulled out two bottles of hard lemonade. Again, one of the few things Regis actually enjoyed drinking. "Not the strongest shit out there, but it's damn near the only thing I actually like."

Kaidan couldn't help but laugh. "Regis would always say the same thing."

"No shit."

"It's true. I always teased him about his taste in alcohol. He bemoaned my expensive taste in whiskey. One of those things we could never agree on."

"Atlas loved whiskey as well." She smiled, twisting the cap off the bottle, taking a swig. "I enjoyed hearing how Regis 'abused' his Spectre authority to protect your relationship onboard the Normandy."

"I joked to him about it not thinking he would actually follow through with it. I haven't heard anything about repercussions."

"There won't be. Alliance sees a major asset in you, and they will be scouting you and Williams as another 'Shepard,'" she said.

Kaidan opened his bottle and took a drink. "So, this is what this meeting was really about."

"Partially," She admitted, "but also to talk. Because you and I both needed it. So, what are you going to do about it?"

"Do the one thing he's wanted me to do for years. Become an N."

“Good, I was hoping you would say that.” Despite her reddened eyes and flushed cheeks, Kaidan saw how quickly she shifted back into Alliance mode. “How much did you know about Regis’s teaching program?”

“Lots, because I indirectly contributed to it,” Kaidan admitted. “Regis and I were unique in the sense that we learned our biotics together, so we picked up tricks that were no way standardized by the Alliance, but better than anything they’ll ever come up with.”

“So, you knew he was implementing new training programs for recruits and accelerated N programs for biotics?”

Regis always said Hannah was a better superior officer.

“The new training programs, yes. The accelerated N programs? No, tell me more.” He leaned forward. “Were there already accelerated N programs, but not tuned to biotics?”

“More or less. You could do the typical training at the villa and the off-planet work. It’s what Regis did, even though it was clearly not rated for biotics, not taking into account the differences in biology, metabolism, and general stability. On the other hand, there’s a far less advertised route that’s all about mission work. You’ll still do the first N training and become an N1, but after that, you’ll be scouted for specialized spec ops assignments. Damn near suicide missions at times, but equivalent to the tests for N2-6. N6 to N7 is gained the same way. Basic gear, low oxygen, stranded on an asteroid. Survive.” Hannah explained.

“Regis’s ideas gave different objectives to biotics in existing challenges, allowing them a better chance at not bottoming out too early and too soon. He also advocated for a pure mission-based plan interspersed with other tasks. Putting the recruit under short, but intense bursts of training, while also preparing the recruit to teach classes and squads of their own. He also wanted full biotic spec ops teams. Overall, less intense than N training, but in no way easier. Difficult in a different way.”

Kaidan nodded, taking all the information in. “And you want me to do what, exactly?” He asked. “Am I going to be one of the first recruits?”

“Yes, but we also want you to finish what he started. That in of itself will get you rising the ranks quickly. I’ve seen your scores. Regis won on the combat side. You win on the biotic side. Despite Regis’s aptitude with technology, I’d argue the two of you were damn near equal. The numbers can go either way.”

“Don’t do yourself a disservice, Alenko. You know damn well you spike higher than me, and you have better control.”

“Fair enough, but your programs have always stressed the limits of the Logic Arrest. It’ll have to be a best two out of three to really figure out who’d win between us. Results may vary.”

“It’s a date.”

Again, damn you Regis.

Too many fucking reminders. They never did get that chance to test their mettle against each other in the combat sims…

Kaidan crossed his arms against his chest, furrowing his eyebrows. “I see. And Williams?”

“Normal N training, but I imagine she’ll speed through it,” she replied. “What do you say, Kaidan? Up for the challenge?”

“Yes. But I’m not doing it just for him. I’m not going to be another Shepard, and I’ll never be a Butcher in the same way he was. If they want me, they’re getting Kaidan Alenko,” Kaidan said.

She smirked the same damn way Regis always would. “I was hoping you would say that. Good. But never say never. There will always be a mission that will define the type of soldier the Alliance will see you as. I hope it’s not another Torfan.” Her expression grew grim. “The Alliance is going to do its best to mold you into a pseudo-Shepard and it’s sickening, but he did impossible things. Of course they want another.” She shook her head. “Stay true to yourself. That’s all I ask.”

“I will.” It was an impossible promise, knowing what the future held, what Regis’s visions predicted.

He always admired Regis’s ability to take upon the hard choices without a second thought. He could be ruthless, yes, but that never meant he didn’t care.

He had a goal in mind, and there were times he was going to do anything and everything to make it happen.

Hannah stood up and held out her hand. Kaidan joined her and took it. They shook hands before both falling into parade rest. “I hope everything will work out, but we all know damn well that will never happen. Good luck, Kaidan. I wish you the best in your training. Hackett will approach you later with more details.”

He knew a dismissal when he saw one. “Thank you. I’m glad we had this talk. It… helped.”

And shed a lot of light on his newfound position.

Maybe he will be able to keep that other request Regis gave him.

“...Show the Alliance what you can do, and remember, make sure they know the Reapers are coming.”

“It did. My door is always open to you, Kaidan. Have a good rest of your evening.”

“Same to you.” He saluted, and she mirrored his action.

He walked out of her office and headed straight for the nearest rapid transit station.

Back to his empty accommodations.

Back to a bed without Regis.

Kaidan shook his head and adjusted his dress uniform as he stepped off the transit.

A thought occurred to him.

It’s been some time since he messaged him. Not since he informed him about Regis’s death and some honest truths about the matter.

Maybe it’s time he takes a moment for himself before he gets back in the game.

He activated his omnitool as he entered the apartment, closing the door with his foot, sending a quick message. A moment later, a call request came up. Despite everything, Kaidan smiled.

“I have a couple of days free. Is it too selfish to ask for a moment of your time? I’m on Arcturus, so it won’t be difficult to secure some transport.”

“Not during these days. I was hoping you would ask. No point in being alone when you have someone who understands.”

“Where are you?”

“Not far from Vancouver, believe it or not. Visiting an old friend. Join me. I have an apartment, a warm bed, and some expensive whiskey that Regis would’ve fucking hated.”

“Sounds like a date.”

“You’re goddamn right. See you soon?”

“See you soon, Zaeed.”

Regis was the glue that brought them together back on Omega a few years ago.

Kaidan wondered if they could forge something on their own, just for a moment.

Alliance soldier and a decorated merc.

It could never work full time.

But for a few nights?

Kaidan yearned for it and yearned for more.

#mass effect #kaidan alenko #mshenko #cleric's writing #regis shepard #title is from a song by sleep token #this was hard to write but very fun to explore #i need to write more Hannah Shepard she's so intriguing to play around with

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alistairian · 3 months

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Just started season 7 of our Doctor Who rewatch (the last season I watched the first time around) I'm remembering again why I sorta fell out with the show at this point. I genuinely like Matt Smith's doctor but oh my god they seriously try to tease The Doctor's death every goddamn episode of season 6, every episode the companions go through some of the most insane horrible shit and by the end of the episode it's all magically undone and forgotten. And it's not like I'm not mad that it's episodic, I'm a star trek fan for christs sakes, there's actually just 0 stakes.

Oh, now Rory's a plastic robotic centurian who was present for 2000 years of history and is older than the doctor and basically immortal? I sure hope they don't completely forget about that 2 episodes later and do nothing with it... Amy has a storyline where she's pregnant? Wait. Not pregnant. Nope, pregnant again. Pregnant, but this time we don't see it at all. Huh, turns out Amy wasn't even there for the past several episodes she was in a pregnancy tube? Are they gonna explain how that works? No? Aw, and now she can't get pregnant and it's the worst thing ever ):

Also the misogyny?? I thought maybe it was exagerated in my memory from internet discourse and being a teenager but no that shit is so blatant. The over-the-top Shock at the suggestion that a completely alien entity might consider a woman to be stronger than a man, and the reason? Women can make babies. Not her spirit, not her love or resilience, no. She has a womb. All of the "I hate my wife" jokes and the "women, amiright?" punchlines. I remember last time around I really wasn't a fan of Amy at all and this time around I wanted to give her a second chance but she just doesn't have a personality, I've got nothing to work with. She had no family or friends, she basically never mentions having a life outside the doctor, her entire schtick is being obsessed with the doctor and making her husband feel like trash over and over again. A lot of the time she just does things for no reason but luckily it always works out plotwise. Oh but she's pretty, when she does have a life on earth she becomes a model so that's something I guess. Also she can't have kids and it's very bad ): like sorry but idk why we got almost 2 and a half seasons with her, cuz it sure didn't feel that long with Rose.

And even though I haven't seen most of Clara's episodes from what I remember I worry it's probably the same with her. Another blank canvas who'll do anything for The Doctor...

Idk man, big rant. My partner's been watching all of this for the first time and has had 0 exposure to fandom and they're seeing all the same things I do so I know I'm not just being an unreasonable fan lol

#makes me worried that reviews start to drop with the next 2 doctors but those same reviews hold season 6/7 in high regard so idk #also obviously people were review bombing the 13th doctor but even still there seems to be a consensus that the next writer isn't very good #i should probably stop looking too far ahead lol

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w3lcom3tomylif3 · 1 year

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1/21/2023

Well... It was a good run, wasn’t it?

I’m surprised we even lasted this long, despite my depressive outbursts and intruding thoughts.

I hadn’t felt like this in a long time. I’m in love with my best friend, and unfortunately, there’s nothing much I can do, except to try and survive. He said he wouldn’t fall for someone anymore... That he needed to take care of himself and his mental health. He told me to call him out and call him stupid and that he needed to snap out of it if he ever ended up with someone, yet that’s exactly what he did. After such a long time, he’s finally talking to someone. He says it’s not serious but I know it is. He showed me his phone.

COME ON!

If you’re not serious about someone, you won’t write L____ with a fucking goat emoji and a stupid yellow heart next to their goddamn name... You don’t just fucking call them baby...

Why can’t he just be real with me? Why is he so afraid to just tell me that’s he’s talking to someone? WE ARE FUCKING FRIENDS FOR FUCKS SAKE! Don’t I at least deserve that instead of constantly being left on read and ignored? Are my feelings not good enough because I already gave everything I had and he’s bored of me now? What kind of fucking person does that, especially if you call that person your best friend. Please make it make sense.

I knew he distanced himself from his friends whenever he’s talking to someone new... I guess in a way I still had hope he would care for me or would maybe even try to actually get to know me, but no. Now that he’s ready to date, he doesn’t even think of me. I have to be stronger than this. I have to be able to survive this, but how?

Now my phone has no messages from him. It’s like I’m holding a conversation with myself and it fucking sucks. I’m used to settling with so little, yet he can’t even give me just that?! I won’t lie, I don’t wanna be here anymore, but I also don’t wanna give him the satisfaction of having me gone. I’m his friend at the end of the day and that won’t change, but I’m not planning on waiting for him forever. It hurts like hell, but I think I might overcome this, somehow. Life will suck, since for the past 3 years, he has been my life, but now it’s time to start all over and move on. Sorry Yehim

Wish me luck. Be right back

- J

#Entry 18 #Mine #Me #Anxiety #Depression #Suicidal #Needy #Help #Help Me #Love #My Experience #Lovesick

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unfinishedbusincss · 10 months

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your character (anne and any of the ocs!)

send a number for me to talk about one of the following topics!

Yeah, you only THOUGHT you wanted this. Buckle up, buttercup!

The process of writing for Anne actually started before last year. I took a course on piracy back in grad school and my final paper was an argument for reading nonheteronormativity into piracy—something you wouldn’t think is so controversial but I guess homophobia’s a stronger drug than I gave it credit for. Anyway! Of the many points that paper made, it also made a real case study out of Anne Bonny and M. Read—themselves and their relationship with one another. My prof thought it had legs and pushed me to consider rewriting and refining it but honestly with the way actual history scholars are, I doubt my gay little voice pointing out all these gay little things that might make historical figures gay little people will have an impact. It’s literally to the point where one of the sources I use all the goddamned time actually has a note on both Bonny’s and Read’s pages refusing to address the possibility of a romantic entanglement between them. (Like you could have just said nothing, but you saying you’re going to say nothing is sus af.)

Anyways.

Last year I put her on a blog and ended up really loving her, but really struggling to find people who wanted to write with her. At the time, most of my followers were interested in muses I wasn’t as comfortable with, and getting them to interact with a woman character was like pulling teeth. I eventually gave up, grew despondent, got busy, and abandoned the blog. I’ve thought about going back to give up the URL, but otherwise I don’t think I’d go back.

Anne turned into this really special muse that I’m actually very protective of. Not, like. In the sense that I don’t want her to get hurt or look stupid—she should do both, regularly, for my own amusement—but in the sense of…being really fucking proud of the way I write her. She isn’t Black Sails’ Anne Bonny, despite her face claim; she isn’t ever going to be Our Flag Means Death’s, despite that being the group I get to write her most with; she’s just Ren’s Anne Bonny. Born from history and headcanon and exploration and projection. I’m probably pretty full of myself for this, but I’ll out myself: I think I’m the best goddamned Anne Bonny writer out there, and no other Anne is half the Anne I am.

And I say this having recently asked a friend of mine who also writes her to let me write with her sometime. Because I also have a big dumb lesbian crush on her.

I’m lucky to have fallen into the D-RPG I did with her; I still feel like no one actually wants to write with her here except to indulge their weird friend Ren, and I don’t love that feeling. (I s2g Orion, Ken, don’t start!) Even there I feel weird asking for people to tolerate her—especially since they recently had a different Anne who was Very Important to them—and yes, Orion, second direct call-out cause I’m not being down on myself when I say “tolerate,” I mean that I know she’s abrasive and doesn’t make good first, second, or third impressions outside of certain psychopaths and so hers is a matter of toleration—but I’m lucky there. People are nice and they agree to tolerate her. They talk to me and I’m really getting to develop who she is under circumstances that have just…ended up more relaxed despite being frought with danger. Maybe because she didn’t join, and so has (almost*) no one there she wants to impress.

*She did recently meet Izzy and he complimented her piracy so yes she is trying extra hard to impress one of her idols.

And that’s all the steam I’ve got for that one, folx!

#lovepurposed #✗ anne bonny #✗ out of character #quran

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fully-caulked-wagon · 1 year

Text

Some of my favourite lines/passages from my shitty Aidungeon Zosan fanfics Part 7

Pretend that part 6 never said '(final)'. Pretend right now. Fic 4 (Again cause I've added like, 11,000 words to it since I posted the first fic 4 part.):

If his legs twitch in anticipation of a fight anymore than they are now, he's sure he'll come down with a severe case of the dancing plague. Dancing, being code for 28 rage-induced kicks to the cranium of dickhead sheriffs. - Don't ask me why I decided to reference a meme as dead as '28 stab wounds' cause I honestly don't know. Sanji startles slightly, running a hand through the back of his hair and sighing, "Right. Right. Yeah. See ya, I guess. If I die, make sure I'm buried by the lovely hands of Nami-Swan and Robin dear. And don't touch my kitchen." Zoro huffs and rolls his eyes, "If you die, we're throwing you straight in the bin." - "When I die, just throw me in the trash!" - Danny Devito Sanji stretches his arms high above his head and cracks his neck, "I'll be back before the Mosshead even has the chance to get lost in his own thoughts." "Oi!" - This is like, right after the previous excerpt, I just wanted to separate them. "Fucking Christ. Stupid fucking Marimo and his dumbass being right." - What a fool, what a nincompoop, what a buffoon, what an imbecile, what an ignoramus. Also - Jesus Christ canonically in One Piece verse, question mark exclamation mark? In fairness, he doesn't have to sneak through too many thin alleyways - none other than today, in fact. Getting shit talked by the mosshead, on the other hand? Not so mercifully infrequent. - Oof. Usopp is sat rigidly in his seat with a small smile on his face as the mosshead stacks the most miniscule fucking deck of cards Sanji has ever seen atop Usopp's nose - it somehow managing to have reached monstrous heights - while the scent of a stroke Sanji's almost convinced he's having wafts from the plate of 'buttered toast' Cal is munching on on the sidelines. - I just liked the phrase 'the scent of a stroke', honestly. Might be one of those things where it's only funny to me, idk. "Usopp thought you were dead!" Maria follows up calmly, "Zoro wished you were dead." - Double oof. Sanji's about however long it would take to read the full list of vegetables Luffy would willingly eat over meat - that is to say, a second at best, from growling. - This whole fic is just one big test of Sanji's patience, ngl. Sanji sighs and lets his head hit the table, a hollow 'thunk' ringing in his ears, the ringing growing stronger as the mosshead snorts in an unattractive and not at all endearing way, "That sound was your skull, shit Cook." "That sound was your brain trying to come up with original insults, jackass, shut up." "Scathing." "You don't even know what that means." - Triple oof. Sanji thanks the impending dread that fills the room for stopping him from blatantly swooning. - Ah, existential doom. A fickle mistress. Franky gives a low whistle, "Hot. ...I think." - There's a lot of things that are questionably hot in this world. Franky will fuck every last one of them. Sanji can feel his fucking ears turning red, damn this stupid perceptive bastard, "Che. I was just trying to figure out if your brain was small enough for a metal pole to go in one ear and out the other without making contact." "Bastard." - Goddamn shrubbery and their fucking observation haki. On his right there's a door labelled 'bathroom' that, once he opens it briefly to glance inside, gives way to a small room that can only really be called a bathroom on the technicality that the thing in the corner is probably a bath and the amount of space the area takes up is probably enough to be considered a room. - Ah, hotels. (Technically it's an inn, but shh.) Robin freezes in place once they reach the saloon, tilting her head slightly as she inquires to Franky, "By any chance, have you been rattling?" Franky simply smirks and opens up the door to his stomach fridge and extends a tiny hand in to fish out a pair of sea stone handcuffs, spinning it around on one finger and chuckling, "Maybe." - Dude just rattles sometimes, don't worry about it. Robin places a hand to her cheek, "Oh my. Perhaps this passageway has a connection to the future? It would be a shame if we passed through, and our bodies slowly aged and shrivelled up until we were nothing but bones and bolts." Franky sweats slightly, replying slightly shakily, "Yeah, that's uh... That's- Th... Please stop being so ominous. It's SUPER freakin' me out." - Yo. That would suck, I think. Franky chuckles, calming down somewhat, "Yeah, well, not in this case. I don't exactly find the slow, agonising aging of my body until I rot away particularly sexy - sorry." Robin hums, "That's fair, I suppose." - This is again almost immediately after the previous excerpt but yada yada. A couple beats of silence pass and Franky leans down and mutters, "Do I need to eeny-meeny-miny-moe this again, or...? I'm down for charging blindly in a random direction too if you are." - Again. Implying he's done that before. I refuse to think about the implications of that.

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