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kyouka-supremacy · 2 years

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what are your opinions on ch14? its one of my fav chapters tbqh so im curious to know why u didnt like it initially and what changed

Thank you for this question! Writing down your thoughts is always fun eheh. Predictable negativity on bsd storytelling and Higuchi characterization under the cut, so please don't read if that's something possible to ruin your mood!!

So here's the thing. We need a bit of context first. Okay, you might know I'm not a big fan of bsd's poor female characters writing in general. My first contact with chapter 14 was when I was watching the bsd anime for the first time. Higuchi is introduced as this woman who is very cool!!! She lured the main character into a trap, pulled out these massive riffles and started shooting everywhere. It was nice. Then, she's badly mistreated by Akutagawa, and it's gross; Higuchi's relationship with Akutagawa is so fucked up. And then the following episode 11 (that is the corresponding of chapter 14) is all about it, about Higuchi's fucked up relationship with Akutagawa, but like... Romanticizing it? Saying it's good for this woman to stay at her work place where she's made miserable on daily basis?

What's most distasteful isn't the beating up itself from Akutagawa, although that is sure to leave a very bitter taste (after all, as a shonen-ish series, violence is nothing out of the norm); what's highly disturbing is the clear unbalance of power between Higuchi and Akutagawa, or how Higuchi is constantly depicted as being obsessed with Akutagawa while Akutagawa is openly violent with her. And the way he reprimands her! And the way she's clearly distraught at his words- not to mention the countless times it's shown how emotionally hurt she was by him. This kind of stuff is depressing. Because like!! What if we didn't romanticize men hitting their female partners!!!!! The bar is *that* low!!!!!!

And Higuchi is portrayed as being obsessed with Akutagawa. She was willing to die trying to save him, even being aware she alone couldn't do anything to win over an enemy organization... Because apparently dying trying to save him would be better than living without him? Girl, you deserve so much better. The “it's not easy to leave the Port Mafia, but it's not impossible. I've thought about it many times. Yet I didn't, because... ” sentence is sorta implied to refer to the fact that she didn't leave the Port Mafia because she was in love with Akutagawa (Ryuunosuke), right? I interpreted it that way when I first watched the anime, and I still believe it's the phrase's main implication– also because the actual closing sentence “because it's my job” doesn't make any sense, as she's basically saying “I'm not leaving my job because it's my job”; it's evident there's a deeper meaning to it hinting to Higuchi having romantic feelings for Akutagawa (unless... the circular phrase is used to metaphorically express how she's hopelessly stuck in a toxic work environment, but I can hardly imagine the author going such lengths to express a concept they visibly have no interest in developing). Point is, the fact that she's basically saying she's willing to keep working for a job that makes her allegedly unhappy just because she loves a man is... Not great. Besides, Higuchi going “it's my job” at Akutagawa after he asked her sorry like???? Now, after ten months of being into bsd, I can find it vaguely cute, but you can bet the first time I watched it I was like. bestie, beloved, light of my life, your job can NOT be to endure abuse after abuse from your coworker. Get yourself a new job asap, and feel free to deck Akutagawa too while you're at it.

What's nasty about Akutagawa beating Higuchi again isn't the beating itself, as much as Higuchi being obsessed with Akutagawa despite of it, and their whole dynamic never being framed as negative. It would be one thing if the whole situation was framed as toxic but... It's very much not. It's not like the reader is lead to despise Akutagawa for what he does, it's just something that's there. The narrative doesn't look like it's going in a direction of Higuchi emancipating herself either, but rather learning to roll with the abuse thanks to fleeting rewards of acknowledgement which is, once again, gross. It's gross to display a model of woman who would stay in a work place that constantly mistreats and disrespects her because it's worth her abusive crush telling her “I'm sorry” once every blue moon. Hell yeah you are sorry Akutagawa! If Higuchi had chosen to cut off his life support right there I wouldn't find it hard not to consider it rightful and legit on her side. The way they handle Higuchi's character is gloriously catastrophic and there's maybe not a better example of how the author doesn't know how to write women, has literally no clue on... The fact that women are p e o p l e and any sane person would leave such a toxic environment at the first chance. But of course they would rather think any woman would stay stuck with a terrible job if it's for a handsome, brooding guy (bruh??? Bruh???????? Sorta crying right now sorry)

Then again, the issue isn't even the relationship being toxic itself– I mean, it sucks for Higuchi, but one can decide to portray a toxic relationship in fiction. The issue is that it's evidently not intended to be perceived as toxic. Nobody ever sides with Higuchi, or voices the fact that she's evidently being abused; Higuchi easily forgives Akutagawa when he apologizes (it doesn't even count as forgiving because she never was even angry or frustrated at him to begin with what the fuck). Akutagawa hitting Higuchi is even used as a gag and like. What the fuck. Who in the world could ever find it funny. What the fuck.

Tbh when I entered the fandom I was very surprised to find out the cycle of abuse was typically framed like this:

Mori → Dazai → Akutagawa → Kyouka

when after watching the anime I definitely had an idea more of the sorts of:

(Mori) → Dazai → Akutagawa → Higuchi

(Very side note but at this point Mori towards Dazai barely counts as abuse, like what did he even ever do to him? Emotional abuse barely stands too since Dazai is, on admission of Mori himself, extremely hard to manipulate)

I feel like Higuchi and Akutagawa's relationship mirrors a lot what used to be Akutagawa's relationship with Dazai when Dazai was still in the pm, especially in the way both Higuchi and Akutagawa are obsessed with their own senpai and gaining his approval. And honestly, just as I am a firm supporter of Akutagawa growing out of his infatuation for Dazai and never forgiving him for what he's done to him, I also believe Akutagawa doesn't deserve Higuchi's forgiveness and could rot in hell as much as I care (joking, but also, don't hurt Higuchi and then expect to have my sympathy).

Plus, THE WHOLE “this female leader becomes useless and powerless as soon as her talented partner is out of the game” the episode carries through like NNNNGGGHHH biting biting chewing wood then why did you even make her leader in the first place???? Like what's the point???????? The rethoric that women are literally useless without a man?????????? I get that this chapter came out around 2013 but like. C'mon. So did Kill la Kill and Psycho-Pass. C'mon. (Also the “we won't recognize the legitimacy of this woman's authority until she demonstrates she's willing to die / throws herself in a suicide mission” but that's a whole different category of “saving other people's lives gives me permission to keep living” “people can't live unless someone tells them ‘it's okay to go on’ ” bsd fucked up morals this post is already too long to get into)

But like (and here starts the nicer section): time has passed since I watched the episode and read the chapter. I reluctantly grew fonder of both Akutagawa and Higuchi. And despite the fact that everything I've said still stands... Akutagawa did say sorry. We never saw him interact with Higuchi after that, which leaves space to hope he's changed in the way he behaves with her (more likely author has realized how fucked up and nasty the whole thing was and opted to never show them interact again, but eh). And while Akutagawa saying sorry didn't effect me at all when I first watched it, because what he did to Higuchi is unforgivable (that much I still believe)... He still apologized. When I first watched the episode, I didn't care the slightest about Akutagawa– besides despising him for how he treated Higuchi, of course. But as the story unwraps itself, it's hard not to grow sympathetic of him, especially after learning about the Dark Era events / the Heartless Cur events / seeing him act in the Moby Dick fight arc too to an extent. I still firmly believe Higuchi shouldn't forgive him, and I don't either for what he's done to her, but as a reader I at least now have an explanation to why he acted that way towards her, and I can understand him. I can now catch more layers to him saying sorry, the effort it must have took him, the admission of having been wrong (which is a huge thing, like, what other character in this series has ever admitted of being wrong? So many characters believing they're infallible), the real intention of making amends and learn from his mistakes which is... Admittedly nice. I mean, character development is great. Everyone is weak for character development, and Akutagawa's is a huge one. What were before words I would have forcibly shoved back in his throat are now reluctantly heartwarming, because they show an Akutagawa who's willing to change and become a better person. But from Higuchi's point of view, that still doesn't change how much harm and suffering he caused her, you know? That doesn't change the fact Higuchi should never forgive him for what he's done to her, just like Akutagawa is entitled to never forgive Dazai for all the abuse he was perpetrator of. I just overall think one's redemption does require amends to be made, but can't demand forgiveness. Akutagawa's step of apologizing is important and necessary for him to make amends and start to become a better person; but that does not and never will entitle him to Higuchi's forgiveness. I now like that scene some more because it's a big first display of development for Akutagawa's character, and because despite the bad writing I could never dislike Higuchi; I like it because I like to imagine that being a moment of growth for both of them, if I make myself forcibly forget about their displeasing canon characterization. I like it because I now like both characters and, despite rationally thinking they're most likely better off separate ways, it still compells me to imagine them being happy and in good terms together. I like it because Higuchi in Harukawa's art style is so freaking pretty

Mandatory tl;dr: I don't like the chapter because it perpetuates and romanticizes the rethoric of women being destined to be made miserable by a man their whole lives with no chances of getting out, as well as displaying a huge systematic unbalance in Higuchi and Akutagawa's relationship with Higuchi being constantly made weaker and dependent; I like it more now because I got attached to Higuchi and Akutagawa, because it shows a growth of Akutagawa and because I wouldn't be able to hate Higuchi no matter what.

Dear Op‚ you said chapter 14 was one of your favorite chapters so you've probably thought about it longer and way more thoroughly than me‚ and it's possible that after reading this there wasn't a single thing you agreed with. And that's okay!! I hope reading this made you view the chapter from a new perspective even if you ultimately disagree with my takes.

#C'mon like. I love my girl Higuchi. But I love her because she's victim of such awful writing‚ I can't bring myself to hate her.#I love her because every day I wake up and actively tell myself–#“a man's awful writing of female characters won't ever be enough to make me hate a woman”. So like. Yeah #ichiyō higuchi #ryūnosuke akutagawa #bsd #bungou stray dogs #I remember me watching episode x with my friend and she commented “Higuchi? She's such a [sottona]”#which is to say bottom in a derisory‚ derogative way and I was like... Girl you need help ;;;;#Did we seriously become so desensibilized to abuse we can now see it as a joke of some kind? Find it funny? It's depressing.#Idk I guess their dynamics would have been bearable despite the unbalance of power if only they had the minimum decency of–#not having Akutagawa hit Higuchi but like... That's beyond any forgiveness for me sorry very much not sorry.#Seeing it happen repetedly was disgusting for me #There's even a big big factor of cultural context playing a role.#There *is* a long existing history of men abusing women who live with the illusion they could be loved back and it's... Yeah just. Lets not #bsd negativity #people asks me stuff #It's just. It really all goes back to the unbalance of power tbh.#Why is it always the cool brooding overpowered male character with the useless no skill whiner female partner. Just :///#It's no wonder I like sskk so much seriously– because I know at any point they could beat each other's ass.#I just think equality is important in a relationship‚ any kind of relationship?#I've been writing this for three days btw I couldn't stop adding paragraphs 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️#I've talked with my landlord and now at 17:45 I'm FINALLY going to take my nap goodnight #bsd ch 14

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crayonverse · 2 years

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i know we never got to see an offical “s-2″ but im just going to says its logan because i find it cute/funny. literal golden retriever boy was krane’s second top solider and a deadly force .

i just really liketo imagine the bionic army before the memory wipe. s-1 s-2 s-3 all go out and fuck people up for fun loser times. s-1 and s-2 both make fun of s-3 who yells at them like a baby. s-1 calls him a brat and pushes him s-2 pushes them both into a mud puddle and runs away. just. bionic army lore PLEASE. i want more of them

#bionic army was overpowered and underused and i just hgAHGHGHA #i hate lab rats so much and its my comfort show #theres so much bad writing and I CANT STOP WATCHING IT #theres awful plots and character writng and yet. they still are amazing. they still manage to make it cool #lab rats #lab rats bionic soliders #lab rats bionic army #lr s-1 #lr s-2 #lr s-3 #lr taylor #lr sebastian #lr logan

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privitivium · 3 months

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Uhhh i been thinking how about yan two alphas competing for a Omega nerdy Male reader.... Like imagine a yan jock alpha that "needs" helps on whatever test/exam (When in reality he only wants the male reader) but the yan bully alpha see that as a threat because he also wants the reader and there is no way he leting a stupid jock take him away from him..

I can also imagine that the reader gets rail from both of them after they realise that the reader is probably "save" with the both of them (Is like a way to not give up on the reader and also keeping him close even if they hate sharing the reader :3)...

real. i like the jock n bully thing so i might reuse that as some kinda ramble fic,,, sorry for any mistakes, subbot reader

yan alpha jock + bully duo x nerdy omega reader

cw;; dubcon, plain nsfw, spitroasting - tiny dick having reader

jock and delinquent... nearly always going at it. couldnt help but snap at each other - the lingering scent of the other around your locker - you just had to know what was up right? no way you were that much of an oblivious moron... jock believes that you do know about his like towards you, and you're just a flustered little thing not knowing what to do with himself, no idea how to react to such a big strong guy taking a liking to you!!

no worries, he'll help you come out of your shell, silly-! wouldn't you rather he help you than that wretched fucking bastard delinquent? haha, yeah, he figured... sauntering up so confidently to your locker, nose twitching at your apparent flusteredness - what happened while he was away for a brief moment?! god dont look at him with those wide little eyes, he doesnt want you to be scared of him,,, though he cannot deny the feeling of his prick twitching at your intent, wide-eyed stare... looking like a bunny in shock. yeah, he understands why you would be surprised... him loitering around your locker and finally having the courage to actually talk to you so confidently!!

merely scheduling a time to tutor him is all... he desperately needs it - calling himself such an idiot as he nearly begs you for it - answering with a soft;; "alright! alright, yesㅡsure, jeez..." aw, he's sorry he's a bit pushy, but you have to demand these sort of things with someone so nervous like you-! ecstatically sauntering away the way he came... score! a tutoring session with his adorable little guy he stalks on the down lowㅡhah! beat that! all fucking smug as he so happens to pass by the dude he was ruling against... tossing him an evil, cruel look. that fucking bastardㅡ

ㅡ"what do you think youre doing?" he burst into the classroom you were occupying - an onega and alpha alone together - and it's not you and him!??! - so suddenly - you, squeaking in surprise that he pauses a moment to assess you... before turning his attention to that wretched jock

ㅡ"i'm being tutored, what does it look like?" he grumbles, cocking an eyebrow with his hand on your inner thigh. it doesn't quite look like ... he's being tutored. observing your embarrassed, hunched over figure, nearly squirming away from jock's touch - "man, th-that.. just isn't fair..." delinquent hisses in disappointment, stepping closer after locking the door behind him. the scent would be enough - of two alphas so clearly horny; infiltrating your nostrils and overpowering your sense of logicㅡ"this isn't a fair fight!" he continues, lurking closer - "you taking advatange of him-!" truly, a mindless rant. to try and curve his aggression as he smells the lingering scents of embarrassment and arousal - god, stop staring at him like that?!!

"ye-yeah i mean he'll- with us as his-" delinquent pauses, grumbling and huffing as he inhales the scent of your delicious fucking scent and nearly cumming before willing himself; stiffening and grabbing hold of your hips to ground himself;; "he'll be fine with both of us around you fucking idiot, don't you ever think?" he snarked, nearly snarling as he jerks forward - grinding his into your rear roughlyㅡ

they just cant help themselves, you know... your scent filling their brains and all they can think about is filling you to the brim. snd it looks that way you're thinking the same thing, huh??? i mean - practically eyefucking them right??!!! it'a your own fault!

"isn't he so pretty." jock mumbled, eyes raking over your figure strewn out over the desk they were going to have to dispose of - "he's so cute. so compliant... he's actually pretty calm with both of us here huh?" mentioning casually with a truely breathless moan of a voice; yes, calm - your face tear stricken and darkened in color with a blush, choking around his cock and trying so hard to swallow and to calm yourself downㅡyes, that's good.. you're doing so good.

"no need to be so angry..." jock mumbled, nearly in a trace, staring down at you so lovingly and ever so gently grazing his palm along your cheek. praising you.. "be gentle with him, you jackass. he deserves it." he scoffs, passing a cruel glare toward the other - gently caressing your face; completely unminding of your tears and drool dribbling down your face. seeming to find you pretty either way...

ㅡit was a true wonder how the two top dogs weren't brawling over who gets to stick their dick inside you first - quite complacent with their positions... one getting to stare into your eyes and pet you while you take his cock down your hollowed out throat and the other getting to feel the walls of your heat clamping on his prick - nearly sucking his fat length into you;; both inhaling the scent of your pungent arousal and obvious embarrassment - it was seen as a plus to fucking you as it permeates the room. "s-shut up! don't tell me how to treat him..." he complains, jaw tensing as he hunches over, nearly panting.

"at least I'm the one who gets to feel their tongue on his cock first.." he hisses, gloating as he slowly rocks into your mouth; tongue along the underside of his girth and instinctively hollowing your throat... and him, making sure to gently caress your tears away and praise you for taking him so well, taking him fully that your nose was buried in his trimmed cut. "-and i'm the one who gets to feel their tight little walls clamp on my cock - first." delinquent snarls- slick dripping down ones' sack before he glances downward at your sudden tighteningㅡloosening his strong grip on your waist with guilt riddling his toughened expression...

ㅡ"a-ah, sorry, sweetheart..." delinquent's grumbling voice could be heard faintly over the sound of your soft sobs and mewling... fumbling around and reaching downward inbetween your trembling legs - cum dribbling from your prick that he so gently takes hold of. "so tiny..." he snickers breathlessly, hips snapping forward as he languidly strokes your cock completely messy with your cum - "just like it's cute owner..."

#yandere alpha.....#ocs =͟͟͞͞★#x male reader #male reader #x bttm male reader #x sub male reader!#sub male reader #bttm male reader #dom male character #top male character!#yandere x male reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere male x male reader #yandere m x m reader #yandere male x reader

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sillysillygoofygoose · 7 months

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"Speak Up" ♡

You dont get anything unless you tell Toji exactly what you want.

*daddy/little one usage, ddlg-ish, safeword used, implied subspace... don't like, don't read <333 MDNI, READER IS 18+

LMAAOO GUYS literally ignore everything I said in my last miguel post (though I stand by it 😩) because reader is the polar opposite in this one 💀 I'm such a clown y'all, I switch up sooo fast

"Please?" Your hoarse voice barley leaves your throat as your mouth hangs open in exhaustion.

"Aw, c'mon, little one... you can do much better than that, don't cha think?" His sly delivery makes the heat in your lower stomach spread like a forest fire.

Flushed features scrunching up at his teasing, you grow more and more frustrated at his antagonizing and sadistic games. Toji's thick, calloused fingers ghost over your embarrassingly soaked pussy, treating you as if you were a burning hot stove top. Every slip of his fingers down your slit has your back arching from his chest, legs threatening to unlatch from his built thighs. His legs keep yours spread as you sit on his clothed lap, feeling his twitching boner against your pudgy ass.

You never realized how quiet you get in bed... almost as if someone switches on your mute button the second your clothes hit the ground. Toji hates it. Of course, he thinks you're cute - the way you clasp your hand over your mouth every time a noise threatens to leak out - but he wants to hear you. He needs to hear you. Especially when you get all mushy and pathetic, just for him.

Your hushed whines are almost overpowered by the lewd wet sounds Toji pulls from your pussy as he sinks his middle and ring fingers in, knuckle deep. He's guided you to your edge four times already. And everytime he's pulled you back from stumbling over.

"Pleeaasee, I want it. Fuck, really want it daddy." Griping onto his bicep, you feel tears begin to build alongside your orgasm. Your bare toes curl in on themselves as tingling sensations blur in your feet and travel up your sensitive, desperate little body.

"What do ya want? Huh, baby? C'mon, tell Daddy, use your big girl words." Toji smiles when he sees the delicate muscles in your stomach clench as your body stutters.

"I want to. Please. 's so embarrassing. " More mumbles. He really thought he was getting somewhere. You feel the coil in your stomach unsatisfyingly unravel, fall apart more like, as Toji removes his fingers from your body without warning.

"No! Why-why did you stop? I was so close." The tears splashing at your waterline race down your overheated cheeks as you completely remove your body from your cruel boyfriend's touch.

"You gotta speak up, baby, or I won't know what you want." His sadistic smile only makes you cry harder as he gathers you up in his arms once again, spreading your weak, trembling legs. Turning you to face him, he positions your crying cunnie over his brawny leg, clit immediately rubbing against his sweatpants. The pain overrides the pleasure as he rocks you back and forth against him, forcing stimulation on your puffed parts.

"No more, n'more. 'M all done." You beg, pushing his broad shoulders as you shiver and shake, tears gathering at the tip of your nose while you look down in shame.

"You can take one more, hm baby? All you have to do is ask nicely, and I'll give you anything you want, sweets." His pushes you down harder, forcing a sob out of your lips, splotched face buried in his neck.

"Nnmmh. No. No, thank you. Red." Your last word is hardly a whisper, but Toji hears you loud and clear.

"Oh, hey, hey, shit baby, I'm sorry." Toji hands fly from your hips as he lets you crawl from his thigh, disoriented and shy. Your cries increase into the palm of your shaky hands as embarrassment crashes over your overexerted body.

"Fuck, 'm so sorry little one. Didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry." The pit in his stomach only grew deeper and more dreadful as you refused to look at him, balled up into your own frenzy. You heave out tired breaths as you grab onto his hand, moving to rest on his shoulder, signaling that he can touch you.

"Was too much. Just need to cum, daddy. 'M so overwhelmed." You wipe your tears away as you tiredly peck Toji's cheek, melting the worry off his face.

"Daddy will make you feel good, sweets. I'm so sorry, baby." Toji slowly moves his hand from yours to cup your soaked pussy, but feeling you tense, he decides to help his pretty girl more delicately.

"Here, sweet girl, lay down f'me." Toji grunts as he maneuvers satin draped pillows under your hips. "Daddy's gonna take such good care of you, okay?"

Immediately, you feel his tongue flat against your core and you moan out, dejected pussy embracing the strong hits of pleasure.

You buck your hips into Toji's welcoming mouth as he nuzzles his lower face into you. Exhausted but invigorated, your hips find their own rhythm against Toji's mouth and nose. You don't hold back, whines, moans, and whimpers alike rushing from your mouth like a waterfall of praise.

"Mhm mhm, cum f'me pretty baby. You deserve it, such a good girl" Toji doesn't even break from you as he encourages you through your sudden but long anticipated orgasm, mumbling and groaning into your pussy. Your legs force him further down against you as your back hovers off the bed, panting filling the room as you ride your release.

Closing your eyes, your legs drop to either side of Toji's head. Your plump lips are spread, taking in as much air as your lungs will allow as dried tear tracks fade against your pink cheeks. Baby hairs stick to your sticky, sweaty forehead. He chuckles, looking up at your spaced state.

"You alright, doll?" He huffs out, rubbing up and down your outer thigh. You don't respond, simply letting your hand flop on top of his as you nestle yourself into the inviting mattress under you.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Hope you enjoyed! Xoxo

Credit to @pommecita for the divider <3333

#size difference #fem reader #jjk x reader #age difference #jjk #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji headcanons #toji zenin #toji x you

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velvetcloxds · 1 year

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ALWAYS THE BRIDESMAID | J.H.

pairing: jasper hale x cullen!reader

word count: 2k

warning: friends in love but the one doesn't know it yet

summary: bella and edward's wedding day has you feeling somewhat envious of their love story

You felt awful, upset with your heart for the way it ached, for the way it shouted shots of anger, of envy, it was not at all what you'd expect of it on such a happy day. Bella and Edward danced below on the makeshift dance floor the vampires had very reluctantly created while you sat crossed-legged on the roof of the Cullen mansion- grateful for the darkness for allowing you to get lost despite the endless eyes that would search for you.

You had a great love for your brother and his new mate, happy that despite years, decades, of such grim, such overpowering sadness he finally allowed himself such mundane emotions of happiness. Maybe that was what had your heart drawing in upon itself. You didn't think yourself possible of such selfishness, being tormented by pity, by jealousy that reformed your decayed cells in a way that made you nauseous. You hated how your insides twisted, begged yourself, and willed yourself to remember the joy that swerved about your lost soul while planning this day.

But you knew where it came from, what it meant. Those were your flowers that cascaded down from the trees, your dress that flowed from Bella's life-kissed figure, your flower petals that spread towards your altar, your day, your dream. Yet you weren't there, it was everything you wanted and yet it belonged to them, you gave it to them, your dream and now you sit alone, rewatching it from the outside.

“Careful,” someone warned from behind you and were it not a warning you’d heard countless times before you’d not have been able to pin its owner down so quickly, the blond vampire swinging down from a branch and sinking down beside you, giving a soft sigh as he adjusted his suit jacket, about as unhappy with the fancy ordeal as you were, for very different reasons. “You might think yourself into a mess you can’t get out of,” he explained and you almost smiled, habitually moving closer to him, letting your shoulders touch as he looked down to search for the reason for your foul mood.

“You know, Jas, I was trying to hide away in peace,” you reprimanded, though he didn’t believe you, your emotions always betraying you, shifting as soon as he was close, it was as if your heart, despite all the wrong it did you, felt safest with Jasper, freely giving away your secrets to him and his senses.

“What do you think I’m doing here?” he argued, he was speaking in that charming, kind tone, you’d be silly thinking he reserved it just for you when really you were just most accustomed to it, prompting it from him much like he prompted calmness from you, a natural reaction despite your unnatural, supernatural existence. “You thought I came here for you?” you didn’t need to answer, he knew you did, and you knew it was true even if he was trying to pretend otherwise. “Very presumptuous.”

“Oh, you know me, always thinking about myself,” your words had a bite to them, thinking the present situation was the perfect time to remind yourself and your heart that no matter how much you wished it was, this wasn’t your day, and you had no right to wish it was.

“Hey now,” he breathed, disapproving of his words being turned into a real reprimand when really he was trying to talk you out of your head, talk you up from that hole you’d dug yourself into, help you crawl back to the surface to enjoy the day, it was a happy day after all, for everyone, or at least it was supposed to be. “What’s messing with your heart today?” you didn’t want to admit it, your selfish feelings, but you also knew that if anyone would be able to help you make sense of it, it would be your best friend, he’d not judge you for your short-sighted and very much unplanned pity party.

“Actually, I think it’s the other way around, think it’s messing with me,” you sighed, stealing a quick glance at him, sure the sight of him all dressed up and perfect would’ve made you blush had the blood still traveled through your veins, instead you managed a little hum, head tilting to take him in before looking back down to the newlyweds. “Can you feel what they’re feeling?” a puzzling question, leaving much to the imagination since you were sure they felt more than just one thing on a day like today, but somehow, as he always does, Jasper knew what you meant.

“That’s not what you want to ask me,” you hated that he could make that statement so casually, so surely, you also didn’t hate it all, you merely hoped he’d answer the real question without making you ask again. “Go on then,” he pushed, you wanted to roll your eyes, lightly shoving your shoulder against his instead, not missing the way his lips begged to tilt into a smile. “Ask me.”

“Can you feel their love?” he scoffed, unsatisfied, you were nearly there, almost at the point, it was dancing on the tip of your tongue, begging for release but you were being stubborn, he decided to be kind.

“I can’t feel it, per sé, it’s not just one single emotion, doesn’t just add up to one thing you can express, as complicated as love is, feeling it is much the same.” His pause was a courtesy, one he offered due to the disappointment that dipped into the air, flooded from you, and surrounded you just as your emotions often do for as entirely as you feel everything, you felt this in your soul, another stab at your heart, another knife in your icy coffin of life. “I can’t make you feel it either, can’t show you what it’s like,” he breathed and you couldn’t deny him the little nod you managed, not even thinking before you leaned your head against his shoulder, one hand snaking around his arm, other hand searching for his fingers and claiming them in yours as if they were your own. “I would if I could, darling, you know that, don’t you?”

“Of course, I do,” you squeezed his arm lightly, not wanting him to think he’d disappointed you somehow simply by not being able to do the impossible, it’s just that living as you do, being what you are, the concept of impossible seemed so unspecified, so mundane. You had always longed for it, wished for it at night, dreamed of it during every moment of the day, you’d wanted more than anything to feel loved in all possible meanings of the word- yet it seemed more likely that Jasper could create a counterfeit version of it with his gift than someone truly feeling that way for you, about you. “Maybe someday I could feel it, really feel it,” you nearly whispered, you willed the words to sound hopeful, but even if your voice could pretend, your heart certainly couldn’t.

“I’m almost certain that you will,” Jasper promised and you hummed when he kissed the top of your head, your eyes not leaving the sight it had been trained on, the couple in question finally moving away from the dancefloor and by the smell of it, Edward had a howling surprise in store for his new wife.

“Do you think it’ll be worth it?”

“What?”

“Waiting,” you explained and you hadn’t noticed a rather lovely looking, yet slightly terrifyingly quiet Alice creeping up to join the pair of you. “Do you think he’ll be worth waiting for?”

“I certainly think so,” Alice sang, already making herself comfortable next to you, taking hold of your arm and gently forcing you onto her shoulder instead, pleased when the action earned her a little smile from your previously pouting lips. “Think you might not be waiting as long as you think,” she shrugged and you missed her eyes as they locked with Jasper’s, who was already looking at her, hope drowning his features as he fought his brows from furrowing.

“Don’t give me too much hope, Ali,” you said, happy that you had a distraction, her bracelets perfect to fiddle with as she let you move her hand into your lap, you were calming down, feelings simmered but uncertainty lingering, yet you were safe with your comfort people and though the love you shared with your family wasn’t what your heart wished for, it did fill most of the emptiness. “I love you guys,” you mumbled, smiling as Alice proceeded to pull you into a proper hug.

“We love you too,” Alice agreed and Jasper wished the moment would pass because Alice was many things but subtle was not one of them and the way she was looking at him was impossible to miss, even if you weren’t yourself right now. “Some more than others.”

“Oh, I know,” you agreed and when you pulled away to look at them you made sure to give Jasper an extra long smile, he was after all the one to try and make everything better first, even if it didn’t exactly work. “Jasper over here is a real softy for his best friend,” you giggled at that, loving the instant recoil at the words as he pulled you right back to him, being sure to hide the way he melted around you, so perfect, he found it awfully rude of his body to react so willingly to you when the chances of being with you were so slim, so impossible, but then again, just like you, he didn’t think impossible was all that big of an obstacle to overcome.

“That I am, darling,” he purred and with one last squeeze he let you go, already prepared to swoop you right off the roof and onto the dancefloor to take your mind off all that could be clouding it and remind your heart that love was already right there waiting for it, and he would be ready to show you- to tell you more about love and just how familiar he was with the feeling when you and your heart were ready.

“I won’t mind always being the bridesmaid if you’re the one walking down the aisle beside me,” you informed him, allowing him to guide you down from your hiding place, Alice made sure to leave a little space between herself and you two before following you down.

“You won’t always be the bridesmaid,” Jasper noted, not at all surprised when he looked down to where you were climbing the branches to find your shoes had long been abandoned, free hand trying to keep your dress out of the way.

“How do you know?” you demanded once settled on the ground, giving in to his fiddling as he tried to make your dress right, tilting his head slightly as he dusted the purple material of any dirt it might have picked up on your little adventure away from everyone.

“I have a feeling,” he was unnervingly charming as he smirked at you, happy that he could feel your nerves ease, all the horrid feelings that led him to search for you now masked by a sense of content and comfort- happiness, because of him. “Trust me,” you nodded, giving in to the mood of the party as you started dragging him to the very middle of the crowd, pleased that the song had changed pace and the bride and groom were away enjoying themselves in solace.

“I always do.” And you did, you knew him well enough to know he’d always tell the truth, always be honest, always bare his heart to yours, at least when he was ready to do so too.

Twilight taglist: @saintlike78 @scarlet-prey @cupids-crystals @venomsvl @esposamultifandom @itzliyalupin @alexxavicry @iambuckysbae @axen-gers @cauliflowertree

#jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale x you #jasper hale x y/n #jasper hale x yn #jasper hale fic #jasper hale fanfic #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper hale fluff #jasper hall imagine #jasper hale one shot #jasper hale drabble #jasper hale blurb #twilight fluff #twilight fic #twilight fanfic #twilight fanfiction

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olderthannetfic · 3 months

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The Gen Z version of "not like other girls" - and as someone who's Gen Z with Gen Alpha siblings, I can confirm it's carried over to Gen Alpha - is to be a tradwife conservative. "I'm not like other girls, who are filthy whores who'll end up alone due to their slutty ways. I don't want a job, I want to wear sundresses and bake and make my husband dinner. Feminism is evil because my strawman idea of feminism is that they want us all to work, even though half my comments section is people pointing out that feminism is the right to choose." Etc, etc.

I have seen multiple fics now with Reader x Canon Character romances with this type of protagonist.

I would greatly prefer we go back to the "Dark Ages" people describe to me of Mary Sues than this. People older than me assure me that it was awful, there were these overpowered women characters who had no flaws and kicked way too much ass and there was no tension and no stakes, etc. But the thing about the polar opposite is that I read women who only go to church, journal, weep when kidnapped by the villain, wear cottagecore pinterest style clothing (which is admittedly nice looking in theory, but often poorly described in fic) and make food for Captain America so he can sweep them off their feet to live their 1950's housewife ideal and I'm not offended, I'm so incredibly bored. I'm sorry, I really worry this is coming across as me crapping on women who want to be housewives, and I truly think that if that makes you happy and you can sustain that lifestyle you should totally go for it. Chase your dreams!

But not everyone's dreams make for a compelling story, especially when you're spending the entirety of the story bashing sluts and whores and girls who "clearly hate being girls" aka aren't wearing dresses and skirts all the time. If your dream involves tearing down other women, it's not really something I can get behind. My dream scenarios usually involve people leaving each other alone re: clothing and employment choices. When I say I want conflict in fic, I meant between characters, not the self-insert and strawmen (strawwomen, I guess?) feminists.

Apparently "I'm not like other girls" used to mean tomboys. Can we go back to that, at least in fanfic? That sounds a lot less grating than this "women belong in the home" stuff.

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punkshort · 2 months

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Remember the 10 likes and dislikes you did for sheriff!joel?, would you consider doing it for Pornstar!joel? <33

Ok YES I love this and it was such a great mental exercise for myself because as I was thinking about my answers I came up with a few ideas for future chapters so thank you very much for the inspo!

Let's dive in, shall we?

Likes:

1. The rain: he loves it when it rains. He's not sure why. Maybe it's the smell, maybe it's the sound, but he just loves it.

2. His family/mom: as we discovered in chapter two, Joel cares very much for Mama Miller. Both he and Tommy are mama's boys, through and through, and even if he brushes off her advice at the time, he definitely takes it to heart.

3. Weddings: he may not be a marriage guy himself, but he loves going to weddings. He loves a good party and just simply loves love. It makes him happy to see other people happy.

4. Pool: he's gotten pretty good at it over the years, especially since Tommy became a bartender. He's been hanging out and all sorts of bars, waiting for his brother to get off work, and he's gotten a taste for pool. He's even won a few bucks off some drunks when they try to test his skill.

5. Sundresses: at the end of the day, Joel is still a man. And if he sees a pretty girl in a sundress, he's going to look twice. He can't help himself. Something about the ease of access and the air of innocence really gets him going.

6. Board games: Joel is competitive. Blame it on Tommy, but he loves a good board game and he really really loves to win. Doesn't matter what it is, Monopoly or Candy Land, he will give it his all and he will get super pissed off if he loses.

7. Sleeping in: Alright, he usually works late hours sometimes and he likes to sleep in. There's nothing like waking up naturally, letting the sun seep through his curtains and slowly rouse him from his slumber, and even better if he has a warm body next to him in bed.

8. Driving: He loves driving. He's not really into cars, per se, but he likes the act of driving. The open road, windows down, radio up... perfection.

9. Breakfast: He might like to sleep in but he will eat breakfast any hour of the day. Pancakes and bacon are his weakness.

10. Classic rock: Anything from the 70s will make him happy. He knows just about every hit and every band. Doesn't really care too much about current music, his radio is always tuned to classic rock.

Dislikes:

1. Leather sofas: Ok, the leather sticks to his skin and he doesn't like it. It gets hot in Texas and he hates the feeling of his skin unpeeling from a leather couch when he gets up. It's especially terrible when trying to hook up with a girl - the sound, the feel... it just kills the mood.

2. Snobs: People who think they're better than him or his friends/family can go to hell. He really dislikes snobby people, rich people, people who treat others differently, people who think their shit doesn't stink - can't stand it.

3. Drugs: Unfortunately in his line of work, he's seen a lot of his coworkers get sucked into drugs. He doesn't mind weed, but the harder stuff he can't stand. He's been in a handful of situations where it was obvious to him the girl he was working with got way too high before filming and it completely ruined the vibe for him. He doesn't like the idea of girls feeling like they need to get messed up to fuck him, but that's a whole other situation.

4. Cooking: He's terrible at it. He typically orders food in, gets something from work or heats something up from the freezer. If you're helping him, however, that changes things...

5. Sage: He can't stand the scent. It's too overpowering and it reminds him of his aunt's house when he was younger. A house that was most definitely not designed for children and more like a museum, where his mother would constantly scold him and Tommy, making sure they didn't touch anything breakable.

6. Olives: They are slimy and taste awful, and he will not be fielding any more questions on the matter.

7. Fake nails: He doesn't care if girls have their nails done professionally but the really really long, sharp ones freak him out. Especially when a scene partner has them and they are wrapped around his dick. He's always afraid one is going to accidentally stab him somewhere way too sensitive.

8. Blood: Joel gets woozy at the sight of blood. He doesn't know why, it's always been that way and Tommy has teased him about it for years.

9. Ties: Absolutely despises dressing up and wearing ties. It feels like someone's lightly choking him all day when he has to wear one. If he absolutely must, he always tries to make it as loose as possible without looking sloppy.

10. Golf: Because all my Joels hate golf. For no particular reason at all.

#ask #anon ask #roommates fic #pornstar!joel

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ultraviolet-cello · 5 months

Text

Aw man. Today's the last day of @tristampparty and I am surprisingly sad about it. I'll be catching up the days I missed at some point, but I've chucked all that I've written, including today, into a google document and I apparently wrote 7.5k words over the course of episode 6 to today.

That's! A Lot!

I really wanna thank everyone who reblogged and gave me their additional thoughts/commentary, and special thanks to Revenantghost for organizing this whole thing! you do good work for this fandom i am giving u a gold star

With that, here we go into Episode 0 - High Noon at July. CWs for pregnancy discussion and a less detailed than last time but still present analysis of sexual assault and transphobia, marked with a [CW] Ofc, spoilers for Trimax and Tristamp

Cowboy kid Knives is something u can pry from my cold dead hands but it's also,,, I don't watch a lot of westerns, but the way Knives describes it seems like he likes the high action and justice. Which yea. yeah.

A lot of ppl interpret Vash then saying that he doesn't like that sorta stuff as him having always had pacifistic tendencies but I don't really read it that way? I just see him being rather similar to Trimax Vash - chill kid with his own interests and hobbies and Knives being the very oversensitive kid so outshines him initially.

Regardless of version of Trigun (except 98. 98 didn't know shit about knives lmao), Vash and Knives have always started off wanting to coexist and be peaceful; it's just how they reacted to it later that differs. In this case, Knives wants to stand up for his friends and make a peaceful world through that, and Vash is more passive in that he just wants to have faith in humanity.

Not to mention they are kids. Young, idealistic kids. This is pre-Tesla, they don't know the extent of how horrible the world is. The loss of innocence and subsequent breakdowns relating to The Horrors is yet to come.

[CW] Mmmmm they really don't make the pregnancy imagery subtle now do they dfgkjdfjk

I also think there's like - merit in also interpreting Knives as trans. Not Just because i think he's also very trans coded (A lot of his breakdowns and story arcs have reflections in how some trans men overcompensate masculinity in a Bad Way. That's a very small subsection of trans guys btw but I am speaking from experience. I got better tho). Anyway it makes the fact that Knives is disregarding Vash's bodily autonomy very much Worse if you take the male plants are trans analogy into it.

He's so far gone that he's willing to do to Vash what would be the worst thing to be done to him; Violating his body to rebuild and make him a perfect independent ("remind him of biological reality"), physically overpowering him ("taking the aggressor, commonly masculine role in sexual assault") to do what he wants. Disregarding the wants and needs of the Plants ("women +fem-presenting ppl that he originally set out to protect because he knew their experience and wanted to help and still has that trauma from witnessing that trauma")

Ofc that's just a reading of the scene, but I quite like it as a trans guy because that makes a really good villain with trans themes/motifs! I hate him so much (affectionate)

No, no she doesn't. Meryl is making a choice and she's gonna damn well stick to it! She's been given agency and she's gonna spend it in the most eldritch horrific scene that someone on that planet could spend it lmao. Well, no Knives takes most eldritch and horrific. Meryl's second tho

Okay this fucking scene drives me INSANE. This is a memory, clearly, but it's one that's being tampered with. Vash asks Knives if they can get along with humans, and then Knives immediately messes with the memory to make sure that he says that he'll protect Vash no matter what. But that is very clearly not what was originally said, so... What did he say? What was present day Knives so desperate to cut off?

I've talked about the narrative being biased against Knives a lot, but something I haven't talked about is that Knives kinda tries to contribute to that narrative a lot. He wants to seem like he never cared about humans, he wants to seem like he always planned this and was going for justice ever since he was a kid. He tells Vash the Tesla incident was just a small grain of sand, he uses Luida to tell everyone he wants to kill Rem, he's unbearably cruel to Vash to make his point. The only difference is that he wants to be right.

So he doesn't let us see what the kid version of him says, because that would contradict the narrative he's built for himself.

I really wanna give props to Studio Orange here for both the design and way they modelled the wing here, that's a really difficult task when the guy you're putting a wing on has a tight as hell bodysuit. But the anatomy holds up surprisingly well!

Also many people have pointed out that the plant mech looks a lot like Rem, and Knives staring into the face of a Plantish representation of his mother that is created and controlled subconsciously by his brother and saying he was rejected is. It sure is a scene!

ONCE AGAIN. INCREDIBLE EFFECTS. I also would like to once again point out the angelic motifs of Knives' design here.

Also Vash saying this is SO important because Meryl!!! is so important!!! I see a lot of people brush Meryl's space in the story off and it Enrages me because Meryl is one of the most important people to Vash. Aside from our frontline yaoi soldier Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Meryl has one of the most tangible impacts on Vash's character.

When Vash is in his breakdown in Trimax, Meryl is the one to kneel at his side and believe in him; When Vash is having his god awful horrible mindscape time in Tristamp, Meryl does the same. When Meryl is kidnapped in Trimax, Vash instantly jumps out of a window in the chance of getting her back. Vash trusted her enough to fire the ion cannon in the sand steamer episode. He immediately went to July the moment she and Roberto were kidnapped.

Meryl has so much faith in Vash and she's insane for that, but Vash recognizes her and that faith pays off in giving him the strength to carry on. He heard her voice, too :]

Also oh to be floating slowly down to the floor while you're a meter away from a cube with the power of an atom bomb while someone named Millions Knives is summoning millions of knives in front of u. Meryl has guts, man.

And now that Vash has gotten his gun back, he's back to using it as a tonfa! (check I think my analysis of episode 7 for more on that). Watching for the swing blocks, the forearm guard, and thwacking the knife tendrils out of the way

This fight scene has soooo much love and care and detail in it I love it so much actually. From seeing Vash's bullets to all the expressions and beautifully detailed firing, there's so much detail in a quick space that you really have to slow it down to see everything.

Seriously how strong is Knives to be able to have a feasible chance again Vash's prosthetic - and Vash matches him! Also the chomp

Now something that I have the shakiest of theories on is that after summoning The Cube, Vash starts moving in a far more controlled manner, he stands still when reloading, he has his movement flurries and then stands still to aim. Which uh. Studio Orange works in 3d, but those are 2d animation techniques. He's moving like 98 Vash.

There's a lot I admire about Studio Orange's use of 3d (I am a mid-tier 2d artist lmao) but I love love love that they're able to get all these really nice, creative camera shots that would be impractical in 2d (all those overhead shots, for example, have a chance of turning about bad/looking weird in 2d, and puts more strain on animators, but 3d you have the models from every angle already. 3d isn't easier by any means, but it does have its strengths)

Also. how Did Wolfwood get over here, dare I ask. mans climbed a tower in just a few minutes what is Wrong with him

Also a nice detail, Vash usually has perfect trigger discipline, but he falters here against Knives, probably because he's been already shooting, but hey, he's stressed. I'll give him a break.

I also appreciate exactly how superhuman Wolfwood is now. Tristamp Wolfwood is on a different level. Like 98 Wolfwood is just some (attractive) guy, Trimax Wolfwood has a lot of gory body horror going on and a subtle kind of endurance/strength, but Tristamp Wolfwood just jumped off a very tall building holding a grown woman and the Punisher and was fine.

Oh hey, same symbol on the tower as was on the sandsteamer and on Vash's wanted poster - symbol of July, probably

Very horribly, Knives probably did just save Vash's life here. But also the rest of July's life (though ofc he just extended the timer)....

I'm not quite sure When Vash started using plant bullets, but he's definitely using them now. Also the nails on his prosthetic are a nice touch!

THE FLYING SAUCER STRIKES AGAIN. I wonder if that's gonna be the basis of the Ark, if that's the route season 2 goes.

I also. Was that allI the Plants collected that escaped in this, or were there a bunch still running in July that get obliterated too? Did Knives inadvertently cause the death of more plants? I mean, when Knives gets revived in Trimax he definitely causes the death of at least 2 plants (there are a couple of bulbs in the background of the blast radius, plus the one that was used to revive him... she uh. Didn't look like she was doing so hot)

Vash's little speech is always so,,, intense. He has such a strong sense of character and it's admirable how well he sticks to his morals despite it all.

On a more body horror note, Knives can survive a long fucking time trying to grab The Cube. In Trimax he gets hit with the angel arm and practically disemboweled instantly, but Tristamp Knives can take over a minute of just like. being right in the direct path of fire. They're really gonna have to work to reconstruct him. Good luck, Legato!

UFO SPOTTED !!! LEAVING JULY AS IT IS DESTROYED !! NOT CLICKBAIT !!!

^ I made that long ago and needed to use it somewhere dfgkjdfg

[RAUCOUS CHEERING]

And ofc I have to bring up Eriks :] I don't actually have too much to say abt him. Studio Orange strip this man and make him bark like a dog next season or we will riot

CHRONICA MENTION!!!!! YAYYYYYY

And that's kinda. It.

Man I have had such fun over the last 12 days, I've really discovered a love for analyzing and theories and putting that out there and chatting with people about Trigun :] I should do this more often lmao but I do want to get back to drawing. I'll find a balance, then!

Thank you all for coming, and Wow if you made it this far I must be doing something right lmao.

#cli speaks #trigun #trigun stampede #tristampparty #cli analysis

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hotreadingwitch · 6 months

Text

MADE TO LIE - the party

Y/N

Bucky might be handsome, sure, but that didn’t excuse his cold behaviour.

“God, he’s driving me mad” Y/n declared as Natasha helped her pin her hair in a glamorous old Hollywood-esque style.

“I’m sure it’ll get easier between you two the more you get to know each other” Wanda encouraged.

“Yeah and Steve adores him so he can’t be that awful deep down”

“True” Y/n conceded before continuing, her anger and insecurities simmering like a pot of boiling water, “I just can’t get past the feeling that he despises me”

“I don’t know if he does Y/n…” Natasha started.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, sometimes you act like you hate someone when really you’re just confused about feeling…something else?”

“You think he likes me?”

“Well,” she sighed, “You never know…it’s just an observation”

“Maybe he’s shy” Wanda added.

Y/n scoffed.

“I find that hard to believe”

“I think there’s probably more to Bucky Barnes than any of us know…”

BUCKY

When Y/n stepped into the large party room it felt to Bucky as if everyone, including him, suddenly noticed her all at once. The thought of hundreds of eyes on her made his stomach rumble with discomfort and protectiveness but also a small sense of pride. Her dress was some designer couture, clearly straight from the runway but she wore it better than any model ever could in his opinion. She shone in it, somehow not overpowered by the thousand glittering black beads and pearls that were delicately interwoven with the dress’s fabric. Bucky placed a hand on the ache in his chest, physically feeling overwhelmed, her beauty was so intense it was all-consuming.

“Are you okay James?” Dr. Pashia asked cautiously.

He tore his gaze away from Y/n only to notice his therapist’s sly smile.

“Don’t” he groaned, scratching at his 5 o’clock shadow, “Between you and Steve I can’t catch a break…”

“Well, my lips are sealed then” she mimed the action cheekily.

Bucky let out a loose, gravelly laugh, smiling down at her. He was endlessly grateful for her professional help and in the last couple of years working with her, she’d almost become a friend.

“Thanks, Doc”

The pair talked and talked, joking in a natural way that only a great therapist and patient could.

His gaze subconsciously flitted to where Y/n was in the room again and again as the night went on. Dr. Pashia said nothing about it, thankfully. When his eyes landed on her a third time he was surprised to find she was glaring at him with so much intensity he almost stumbled even though he was standing perfectly still. He watched as she slowly turned back to whoever it was she was talking to and threw her head back with a flirtatious little laugh. The man was tall, like him, with long, slicked black hair and piercing, devilish eyes. A rush of heat hit his cheeks. With a frustrated growl, he turned away, excusing himself before stalking over to the bar where he noticed Natasha was helping with drinks. The loud current pop music and throwbacks playing at the party pounded loudly in his ears.

I’m in love with the shape of you…

“Hey,” he bit out when he reached the bar.

“Hey,” she hesitated, looking visibly amused.

“What’s that look for?” He grumbled, agitated.

“Trouble with Y/n?”

“Is everyone able to read me these days?” He groaned, “What happened to being a top-class assassin?”

She raised her glass in a toast, “Oh how the mighty have fallen…”

He clinked hers in a sardonic cheers. If anyone could understand how it felt to suddenly gain autonomy after years of torture and control, it was Natasha.

“I’d give her a chance you know?” she continued, making Bucky’s eyebrow raise, “I’m biased as a best friend sure but that doesn’t mean she isn’t truly the kindest person I’ve ever known”

Bucky’s eyes softened, after talking to Natasha he was filled with a new purpose, one that started with an apology. When he finally turned away, heading back to the party, he stopped mid-step…

Y/N

After her talk with Wanda and Natasha, the girls had practically drunk their body weight in hard liquor, Wanda not even making it to the party. When Y/n arrived, it seemed that all the other Avengers were busy, either with each other or with the hoards of people Tony had invited to come. A little while later, her eyes finally found Barnes in the crowd and immediately narrowed. He was talking to probably one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen.

She turned away from the scene unfolding before her, strutting over to the nearest handsome man she could find, and tonight there were many.

Grab somebody sexy tell ‘em hey

The music blared over the speakers.

“Hi,” Y/n greeted with a flirting glance up at the tall stranger.

“Well hello there” he responded, his mouth curving into a naughty grin.

“Y/n” she held out her hand to shake.

He took it, placing a dapper kiss on her skin before introducing himself, “God of Mischief”

She threw her head back, laughing a little more than she normally would at such a stupid joke.

Give me everything tonight

By the time they made it to the dance floor the song from earlier was almost making the space shake, not to mention the people covering the dance floor.

I might drink a little more than I should tonight

And I might take you home with me tonight

Y/n swayed along with the stranger, allowing his hands to press into the curves of her hips. All was going well until a different hand, a cool metal one, planted itself on her shoulder from behind.

“Hi honey” his sarcastic tone grated her eardrums.

She turned with an annoyed look to see none other than Bucky Barnes glowering in front of her.

“Can I help you?” She feigned innocence.

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, likely out of annoyance. But she didn’t care…Let him be annoyed.

She turned back to the stranger to find that he’d disappeared.

“What do you want Bucky?”

“What do I—“ he grazed a frustrated hand over his mouth, “What do I want? It doesn’t matter what I want Y/n. What matters is that I’m the only one you should even be near tonight, this might not be an official mission but that won’t stop people from talking”

“Apologies, I didn’t know you could even stand my presence”

He looked taken aback by this but before he could respond a woman backed into him, bumping him forward toward Y/n so that their chests were pressed together. He gripped onto Y/n’s wrist, seemingly for support as he stumbled slightly. The woman’s perfect olive-brown skin gleamed in the lights and she smiled at Bucky, a sweet smile that made him sigh and shake his head.

Y/n realized in an instant that this was the woman that Bucky had been talking to earlier. She had seen enough. She attempted to rip her hand away from his but he whipped his gaze back to her, his grip on her only growing tighter. It was then, just as Y/n was about to speak, that the overhead lighting dimmed and a mellow piano melody began to fill the large space.

She turned her head, noticing quickly with a groan the other drunken party-goers who were now forming pairs to partake in the slow dance.

Like a flower, waiting to bloom

Like a light bulb in a dark room

I’m just sitting here waiting for you

To come on home

And turn me on

Y/n’s heart ached at the DJ’s choice of song as she reached out, placing her other hand on Bucky’s strong shoulder. Lost to the music, her fingers brushed the swell of his muscle, tracing down to his collarbone. If she noticed how this movement made Bucky’s breathing hitch, she didn’t say anything about it.

“So now you want to play the part?” Bucky chuckled, raising a thick eyebrow in a light-hearted manner that she hadn’t seen directed at her in all the time she’d known him.

Like the desert

Waiting for the rain

A beat passed, a thoughtful silence settling between them.

“My father used to listen to this song…we’d waltz to it when I was a little girl, it was my mother’s favourite” Y/n admitted softly.

She winced then, looking up into Bucky’s steely eyes to measure his reaction, information about her abusive crime boss father wasn’t what she normally started conversations with. But his gaze was surprisingly soft.

“I’m sorry…” Bucky murmured, pulling her slightly closer.

Y/n sighed. She supposed all the Avengers had been briefed on her past when she first joined the initiative but she wasn’t sure. This confirmed that. A couple of years ago, Y/n had fled her father’s French crime organization, giving information to Nick Fury that would later contribute to the group’s effort to lock him up, neutralizing him as a threat for good. In a twisted way, she was glad that her father was no longer a danger to her or anyone else.

“Thank you” she whispered back, “I suppose it’s a bit of a weird father-daughter song anyway”

“Perfect for a weird father-daughter duo then” Bucky smirked playfully.

Y/n’s eyes widened before she let out a startled laugh. No one ever dared to joke with her about her past, especially about her father.

“Very true” a small smile spread across her lips.

She hesitated then, leaning forward to rest her head on Bucky’s shoulder. She found his planes of muscle were soft on her cheek, the quality of his expensive-looking suit surely helping with that.

I’m just sitting here

Waiting for you to come on home

And turn me on

Turn me on

The music faded out eventually but Y/n didn’t really notice.

BUCKY

Y/n was drunk and Bucky had forgotten what it felt like to be as the super soldier serum mostly prevented it. He did, however, remember the stories of him coming home sloshed and sloppy that Steve refused to let him forget…and sloshed and sloppy was exactly what Y/n was now.

“Come on doll” Bucky pushed softly as he guided Y/n through the compound hallways to where he hoped her room was located.

“Here, here—” she slurred her words as they reached the door, cutting herself off with a small burp.

Bucky tried not to laugh as he took in her drunken state. After they’d danced together for three of four more songs, Y/n and Bucky had rejoined the group who were then playing a ridiculous drinking game that someone had come up with. Bucky glared daggers at the tall, dark-haired man who had been dancing with Y/n before, who he learned was Loki, Thor’s mischievous brother. Besides that though, he had actually managed to have a pretty good time. It seemed, however, that Y/n, who’d drank double her weight in liquor, had an even better experience.

Y/n stumbled onto her bed, bending over with a huff as she tried to take off her ridiculously high heels. She pulled and pulled at the stubborn shoe, not realizing, in her state, that she had to undo the buckle first. Rolling his eyes, Bucky got to his knees before her.

“What are you doing Barnes?” she garbled.

“Taking off your shoes” he chuffed, “And you never call me that…”

“Well maybe I do now”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Fine, fine, ‘Bucky’ it is, though I don’t know why you’re insisting…” her eyes glazed over, “Unless you just like hearing me say your name”

A flame lit in Bucky’s eyes.

“Go shower” he commanded gruffly.

“M’kay” she agreed before stumbling into the bathroom, the moment forgotten, just another drunken thought that she’d likely forget by morning.

She left the door open as she did, allowing Bucky a full view of her as she stripped out of her fancy dress and the lacy lingerie beneath it. Tearing his eyes away from Y/n out of respect for her privacy was the least of his issues. What worried him now was the fact that she might slip. Sure enough, after a single minute passed, Bucky heard a small yelp coming from the steamy bathroom. His gaze snapped to the shower where Y/n was on the ground, her knees curled up to her chest. He ran into the room, opened the door to the shower and, being careful not to look, helped her to her feet.

“Are you hurt?”

The freezing cold water ran down his suit, soaking him to his core, but he didn’t care. When she didn’t answer he prodded again,

“Why didn’t you turn the water to be hot?”

“Because” she responded with a non-committal shrug.

Without another word, Bucky grabbed a fluffy towel from outside the shower and wrapped it around her, turning off the stream of now-warm water.

“Come” he ushered her to her bed.

He flipped open the plush sheets, helping her to settle between them.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” the words poured out of her with startling vulnerability.

“Because” he responded gruffly, repeating her seemingly nonchalant words from earlier.

“Because” she slowly whispered back, speaking into the dark, “Because…”

Bucky’s laugh was a quiet puff.

“No laughing” she drunkenly chided, though her smile was at odds with her words, “I’m tired”

“Then sleep doll” he caressed her forehead, making her hum with contentment.

Only when she had finally drifted off into a heavy, peaceful slumber, did he finally leave.

A/N - the three songs with lyrics used in the chapter are Shape of You by Ed Sheeran, Turn Me On by Norah Jones, and Give Me Everything by Pitbull, Neyo, AFROJACK and Nayer

requested account tags:

cjand10 identity2212 bucky-jbb-sunshine unaxv hnnhbananananana

#fanfiction #fanfic #marvel smut #marvel #marvel fanfic #avengers compound #the avengers #mcu #mcu fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes

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slayerchick303 · 11 months

Text

*SECRET INVASION FINALE SPOILERS*

I just finished Home, and I have some thoughts:

Rhodey was in a hospital gown when he got out of the pod! I swear to all that is holy, if they have him been replaced by a skrull after his injury in Civil War, I will march on Disney headquarters! That would cheapen Tony's death, funeral, and Rhodey's amazing conversation with Sam in Falcon and the Winter Soldier. I said I'd freak out if they made the swap previous to FATWS, and I meant it!

Gravik's human face was a man he killed, so I'm assuming the same is true for G'iah. If she is indeed going to be Abigail Brand as leaks have suggested (meaning Abigail Brand is dead), I'm going to be mad! Like legitimately disappointed. Brand is one of my favorite parts of the Astonishing X-Men comics run. I ship her and Beast so hard.

When was Everett Ross swapped? It has to have been after Black Panther because he would've reverted to his skrull form after being shot and/or Shuri would've noticed while healing him. Has a skrull infiltrated Wakandan leadership?! How many? For how long? Because that's BAD. Imagine the havoc skrulls could wreak with Wakanda's resources.

The CGI in this was pretty good. Especially compared to other recent Disney+ titles. That being said, I hate a lot of how they used it. Giving G'iah a huge Drax arm?! Bad choices in multiple ways: A.) the big Drax arm looked so weird as did other things. B.) do they think Marvel fans are too stupid to get what they were doing if they didn't make her arm huge? They should've kept Emilia's arm the same size, only given her Drax's tattoos and skin color at most. We would've understood. C.) the clothing changed too! How does that make sense?

Is Gravik really dead, though? Is Raava? We don't know if Raava has super skrull powers, but Gravik had like EVERYTHING. That seems like it should make him pretty invincible.

How did people not clock how off Rhodey was? There was like an enormous change in his personality. Raava was a jerk!

So, Fury and Sonya only tranqed those secret service members at the hospital. That wouldn't automatically make them revert, right, or every skrull would be outed when they fell asleep. If all those guards were humans, they were legitimately the worst security detail ever. That one guy literally listened to SkrullRhodey pretty much out herself and did nothing. He didn't even warn the president Rhodey was acting uncharacteristically. Every member of White House personale will have to be tested somehow. Maybe check for purple blood?

I really thought Ritson would die at the end. I guess he's just awful (which is unsurprising). I'm glad he won't be president much longer, as Harrison Ford is taking over the role of President Thaddeus Ross in Captain America: Brave New World. That being said, part of me worries that President Ross might be even worse than Ritson.

I kind of loved Varra and Fury's ending. It redeemed the awful, "I guess we'll never know moment."

****EDIT:**** I didn't think about this at the time, but I saw someone else bring it up. G'iah has Captain Marvel powers now! Doesn't that mean she should be caught up in the entanglement mess Captain Marvel, Photon, and Miss Marvel are dealing with in The Marvels?! That's an ENORMOUS plot hole. Not to mention, G'iah is ridiculously overpowered now. People complain about how powerful Superman is, and G'iah is so much worse.

I enjoyed Secret Invasion, even if it wasn't the best Disney+ show. The comics are still WAY better. Regardless, I'm looking forward to The Marvels even more now.

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deathblacksmoke · 3 months

Text

Dramamine—Part 8

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Nick Ruffilo

Series Summary: Cynical, brooding bartender Nick meets too-earnest, pretty boy singer Noah when The Rabbit's Foot starts hosting an open mic night.

CW: angst, self-hatred, self-doubt, mentions of death and grief, i’m fixing things <3

*Content warnings are updated by chapter*

Word Count: 1.8K

Author’s Note: beta’d by @circle-with-me and @darksigns-exe, big fat colossal thank you for listening to me bitch and moan and whine and panic about this chapter for weeks. was really starting to think i’d never get this one out. anyway thank you everyone for your patience, please enjoy 🤍

dividers by @cafekitsune 💐

He doesn’t have the capacity to deal with it, the way they’ve been tip-toeing around him all morning. Folio flitters around wordlessly behind him, busying himself with one unimportant thing or another. Jolly has hardly made eye contact. Neither have said more than a good morning or excuse me.

Besides Jasmine, he doesn’t know what was discussed when Noah came in last. He’s afraid to ask, since it was seemingly enough to warrant the silent treatment. Or maybe they’re too nervous to scare him off again, but whatever it is, it’s making his skin crawl.

He’s inclined to let himself sit in it, allow himself to get used to the uncomfortable silence if it means not having to face any of this. But he already lost Noah—he barely had him to begin with, but he’d so quickly allowed himself to grow fond of him. It didn’t take any time at all to get used to how nice it felt to have him around, to wake up to a good morning text with a cheesy little emoji. He hadn’t had anything close to that in years. He’d forgotten what it was like, how much he liked it, how it made his stomach twist pleasantly. He wasn’t prepared for what a life without him would bring, how quiet and agonizing every moment would feel.

He can’t lose Jolly and Folio, too, not when they’re this close to being all he has left.

The bar isn’t nearly busy enough to distract him, anyway. He’s been here for two hours and no more than 2 customers have walked through the door, staying momentarily before walking back out. He’ll swallow his pride just this once, if it means breaking the deafening silence and going back to normal. Whatever his normal may be.

“Can we talk, or are you both going to ignore me all day?”

Folio leans against the bar fidgeting, while Jolly stares blankly at Nick with his arms crossed. It’s clear he’s going to have to do all the talking for the time being, and the idea alone turns his stomach. He hasn’t had a clear head in years, hasn’t had the ability to properly express himself in even longer, and he can’t do this.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?” he finds himself asking, feeling indignant and knowing he’s chosen the wrong tone, the wrong words, the wrong way to approach this. It’s made even worse when Jolly doesn’t respond, looks anywhere but at Nick.

He knows he fucked up. He knows he is fucked up, but they’re his friends, not Noah’s. They’re supposed to be on his side.

“I just—” he starts, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. He’s humiliated enough as it is without begging for their support. “I just need you guys to be on my side. Please.”

Jolly’s arms uncross before he fixes Nick with a look that reads pity. He hates the way he shrinks into himself, feeling unbearably small, but it’s better than before. He prefers to feel pity over the miserable suspicion that he’s losing everyone.

“I think it’s time for you to let yourself have a good thing,” Jolly finally responds, and Folio promptly nods in agreement. Nick can’t help himself when his eyes roll back.

Maybe they’re right, but she’s the only thing he’s known for all these years. There’s a dread that overpowers him, nestles into his ribcage and twists, when there’s a moment he allows himself to consider letting go. He’s grown tired of the way everyone looks at him, though, like he’s this awful wounded thing.

Even after everything, he’s not used to this clawing emptiness that surrounds him. His head, normally torturously loud, sits quiet. He didn’t realize he’d have to lose one more person to finally have that. He always thought he’d be grateful when the moment finally came for him to have peace, but he finds that it isn’t what he wants.

He’d only just started enjoying the levity again, the feather-light weight of an existence with Noah in it. Now the silence, rather than peaceful, sinks heavily around him. He doesn’t think he deserves to have that floaty feeling, but he begins to wonder if it’s worth denying himself any longer.

“I can’t, Jolls,” he finds himself responding. There’s something caught in his throat, his vision blurring. He’s so exhausted. “I don’t know how.”

When Jolly sighs, it doesn’t feel like a disappointment. Jolly has always had the least amount of patience for his bullshit, but there’s a softness to his sigh, a sorrow that makes him feel awfully guilty.

“You have to, Nick,” Folio interjects. Nick feels as his body starts trembling—he knows something has to change, but he doesn’t know how to do it. There’s a comfort in Folio’s touch when his hand wraps loosely around Nick’s bicep, and he lets himself sink into it for a moment. There’s no fight left in him to stop the tears from spilling, feeling humiliated as he wipes them away. “Your life didn’t end at 29. You have to stop acting like it did.”

Hers did, he thinks to himself but doesn’t dare speak aloud. Even he knows that she would hate for him to be living his life this way. He can see the exact look she would fix him with, shoving at his shoulder, telling him to stop being silly.

She would be so ashamed.

There’s a beat where he lets the realization register before the door is being swung open, slamming violently back closed with an audible cracking sound.

He connects the thundering footsteps approaching to a face he distantly recognizes. His mind flits from confusion to a painful melancholy as he places her.

“Autumn?” he asks, but her pace doesn’t slow—her expression growing angrier than it was when she first stomped through the door.

He hasn’t seen her since the funeral, or heard from her in almost as long. He can’t begin to imagine what she’s doing in his bar, fuming, staring at him like she wants to wring his neck.

“We need to talk about Noah,” she says. It’s not at all what he expected, and his heart sinks.

There are so many questions he wants to ask, but none of them seem right. He watches pitifully as his circle narrows, as his life gets smaller and smaller and everything gets harder to outrun. Everything is all too connected.

He settles on the question that feels most pressing.

“Is he okay?” Nick asks, regretting it immediately as Autumn rolls her eyes. She always was a protective friend, more than once cornering him at a party when Jasmine had gone to the bathroom.

He’s grateful Noah has someone like that, though he’s not grateful to be at the receiving end of it again, no matter how much he deserves it.

“No, Nick, you destroyed him,” Autumn seethes, and it’s a punch to the gut, not that it surprises him. “He was so sure about you and now he’s been at home for days crying because you don’t want him. I can’t let anyone hurt him again, so tell me. What the fuck happened?”

The again that Autumn tacked on doesn’t go unnoticed. His heart shatters all over again when he thinks of Noah crying over him, feeling undesired or unwanted. Every decision leading up to letting Noah down was harder than the last.

He does want him. More than almost anything, he wants him.

“You know better than anyone, Autumn,” Nick tries to reason with her. It’s not like he wants this, exhausted and working against himself as he slogs through every day. “You knew her better than anyone. You know why I can’t—”

“No way is this about Jazz,” she says, interrupting him. She sighs, and there’s a softness in her gaze that he remembers. But she’s so, so angry, and he’s not sure who for. “She wouldn’t want you to be living your life like this. She loved you so much and she would be so hurt if she knew you were stopping your life for her. You know that.”

And he knows she’s right. He’s known it the whole time. It makes it all worse.

“I can’t let her go,” He miserably admits, on the verge of tears again. “Noah deserves someone better than me. Who isn’t so fucked up.”

Noah deserves someone perfect. He wants it to be him.

“He decided on you,” Autumn reminds him, matter-of-fact. “No one’s making you let her go, especially not Noah. But you can honor her memory by not letting her death ruin your life. Let yourself have a good thing. She would want you to.”

It’s like they rehearsed it, Jolly and Folio and Autumn. Let yourself have a good thing. He knows they didn’t, and that’s what makes it worse. That means it’s true, that he deserves it.

He considers it for a long moment. There isn’t a whole lot left to say. He’ll decide in the moment—he can’t screw things up worse than they already are.

“Should I call him now?” Nick asks, and Autumn raises her eyebrows, surprised. Jolly makes a shocked little sound. Autumn motions for him to go ahead.

The line rings and rings and rings. His anxiety spikes, and he’s sure it’s clear in his eyes. “He is working, at the shop,” Autumn tells him. “You could text.”

Can we talk?

A minute passes. Then two. Then five. He hates standing here under their watchful eyes, waiting for a text to fix his life. A read receipt, and still no response.

He wonders if Noah feels as panicked as he does.

Please, Noah. I have to talk to you.

The three dots that appear taunt him. The response comes quick enough.

Come by at 8.

He lets out a breath—the panic continues to rise, but at least there’s something. A chance.

“I’m coming by at 8,” Nick says, voice wobbly and humiliating.

Autumn nods, muttering out a simple good, see you then before turning on her heels and leaving, seeming awfully self-satisfied. He’ll have to thank her later.

“How are you feeling?” Jolly asks, sounding a little unsure himself. Folio claps him on the back so hard he stumbles forward, already weak on his feet.

He feels sick. It’s a good sick, he thinks.

“Like I’m going to throw up.”

Parked outside of Noah’s, working up the courage to go in, he does the only thing he knows will make it all feel complete. Permanent and real.

“Hi, honey,” comes his mom’s voice through the phone, clear and bright.

“Hi, mama,” he responds, taking a deep breath in. “I want to talk to you about a boy.”

Tags: @concretenoah . @circle-with-me . @darksigns-exe . @ladyveronikawrites . @agravemisstake . @monotoniscreaming . @cookiesupplier . @bngurngheart . @jiizzy . @screamsinsilver . @iknownothingpeople . @anameunmusical . @sitkowski

#bad omens fic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens rpf #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian rpf #nick ruffilo fic #nick ruffilo fanfiction #nick ruffilo rpf #nicholas ruffilo fic #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo rpf #noah sebastian x nick ruffilo #noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo #deathblacksmoke works #fic: dramamine

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atinylittlepain · 11 months

Text

June - Part Six

Joel Miller x f!oc

series masterlist

warnings | 18+ dark themes surrounding suicidal ideation and attempt, smut, angst, but also a whole lot of love to be had

........................

And leave me if I'm feeling too lonely

Full as the fruit on the vine

You know some girls are bright as the morning

And some have a dark turn of mind

"Dark Turn of Mind" by Gillian Welch

........................

“Thanks, kid.”

“You said the thick socks right? I wasn’t sure.”

“Yeah, these are good.”

“Is she doing okay?”

“I don’t know.” He doesn’t. He’s not sure if he wants to. Something ugly has settled in his skull. Not anger. Something that simmers lower, meaner. Hate might be the right word. He feels sick with it.

He hates that something as innocent as a bottle of expired aspirin, small, sitting in the bathroom cabinet, could make something this awful happen.

He hates that he had to do what he did. Had to get big and loud and quick, quick, quick with her. Overpowering, muscling her in his arms to keep her still, still, still.

He hates that she fought him until she didn’t. Snarling big, big, big, trying to wriggle back down to that deep, dark place he was pulling her out of. And then the blank wash across her face when she realized her own failure.

He hates that he knew exactly what to do. The feeling of her throat constricting around his fingers, her whole body a tight fist, and then the slackening of her heaves.

But maybe more than anything, he hates that he didn’t have a clue until the moment he walked into the bathroom. No signs, no warnings. Things were good, he knows it. Simple and so, so, so good. And she still wanted to leave so, so, so bad.

He hates all the things around her that he can. Lets it get big and bad in his brain, staring at the closed clinic door, knuckles flexing with each dark thought. He’d like to hate her too. It’d be so much easier. It’s why he hasn’t gone in yet. Because he knows the instant he sees her, this hate, this big, ugly something will dissolve into a simpering ache.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“No, kid. That’s alright. Thank you.”

He walks in alone. Cold white walls and cold bright lights and a sterile hand on his shoulder that he’d like to snap clean off.

She’s doing fine but–

Chronic and persistent–

May need to put in place a–

There isn’t much we can do.

Blink and nod, blink and nod. What is this world he has stepped into?

And then she’s there in a bed that crinkles white and it’s summer all over again and he needs to see her eyes open needs to get her awake for him, needs, needs, needs. And then she’s awake and she’s looking at him and he wants to scream and plunge his hands into his chest to pull out the crumpled mass of his heart wants to smear it all over these white walls so maybe she can understand what this hell he’s in is like. But he needs, needs, needs to stay calm needs to keep her with him.

So he’s careful. So, so careful. Kneeling down next to the bed that crinkles white and taking up one of her hands in his, so slack he can’t help the anxious squeezes he pulses through her fingers. And finally, he clears his throat of that sick souring so what he says to her can be simple, simple, simple.

“I thought things were good.”

“They were.”

“Do you know what this does to me?”

“It has nothing to do with you.”

“Please, June.”

“I can go. This isn’t good for you.” I’m not good for you. Unblinking, cool and calculated in what she says. Like she’s done this before.

“I don’t think I could stand that.”

“You can’t stand this either, Joel.”

“No, I can’t.”

He finally realizes something. That night, they were out in that field for two very different reasons. His was an acute hopelessness, something that felt close to logic. But hers was old, calcified somewhere deep inside her. Something that may have even been there twenty years ago, before any of this. Something she said, a thread he tugs on now. I’d always been like that.

No cause, no effect. No problem he can hunt down and solve. Both freeing and damning in this revelation. Because she has a mind that makes leaving seem like a good idea. And he’s hellbent on making her stay.

“What do you want, June?” The question seems to shock her, eyes widening and lips parting. And then all at once, she folds up into a sob.

It’s hard to catch, the warbled slur of her words muffled over his bad ear where his face is pressed into her neck, holding her close, close, close. But he can still figure out that it’s a pleading chant of the same two words. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

…

“How long?”

“A long time.”

“How many?” “Too many.” There’s another question that hangs in his throat, one she seems to pull out of him without words.

“Someone needed me, so I stopped.”

“You don’t think I need you?”

“I’m scared that you do.”

“Why?”

“I’m no good, Joel.”

“I don’t believe that.” “You should.”

…

“How can I know?” “How can you know what?”

“How can I know when it’s getting like that again?”

“I’m not sure I even know that.”

“Try, please.”

“It happens fast. Something just clicks.”

“Will you tell me? When it clicks?”

“I’ll try.”

…

His back hurts. He’s been sleeping curled around her in the white bed that crinkles all week because the doctors wanted to make sure she was stable. And while there’s no scar he can see on her skin, he finds remnants in the drawn darkness of her face, the weak hum of her voice, and the perpetual fatigue that seems to hang heavy down her spine.

But she’s home now, moving like a faded ghost, careful and quiet, her cheek perpetually propped in her palm.

“Is it your back?” The pot is simmering on the stove, something warm, something rich, something that will stick. And she’s sitting at the kitchen table watching him make something warm, something rich, something that will stick.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not moving like you’re fine.”

“I’m fine, June.” Too much bite, his throat seizes with it.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. Let’s eat.”

This, something he can control. This, something he can fix. Each mouthful, a relief.

“Can I help?” Palms open, outstretched. He could never say no. Sitting between her legs with his back against the couch, her hands smooth over his shoulders, generating quick heat. And then she digs, the small moons of her fingers finding all those tangles, taut, taut, taut. His head tips back with it, a pain that pulses perfectly, catch and release in the way her hands move over muscle.

It’s sudden, startling, something that cracks in his chest and shakes his shoulders. He only realizes he’s crying when she tilts his chin back to see the tears.

“Oh, Joel.” He’s been holding it all, every splintered piece. But now he lays himself at her feet in a crumbling heap. On his knees. He’s on his knees and pressing his face into the soft hollow of her stomach and he’s crying so hard he can barely get a breath in.

“Please, June.” Please, please, please. Over and over, his prayer to her. Something, anything. He’d take anything she might give him.

The careful sweep of her palm, coaxing his face out from her shirt, her thumbs a kind arc, catching the salt dripping down his cheeks. It’s overwhelming, the care she so easily gives him, and it just makes him cry harder because somehow that’s true at the same time everything else is. And she lets him. Cradles his head in her hand and pulls him closer as he cries and cries and cries until he’s not really sure what he’s crying about anymore.

When all that’s left is a shudder in his ribs, she slips off the couch to sit with him, chest to chest, faces tucked into the crooks of necks, arms wrapped tight, tight, tight.

“I’m here.” Words stamped into the curve of his throat, her lips an exultant thrum.

“Don’t go.”

“I won’t.”

“I would follow you. I would too.”

“I wouldn’t want that.”

“Then don’t go.”

“I won’t.” “Promise me.” Silence. The slight curl of her fingers at the back of his neck.

“Promise me, June.”

“I can’t, Joel.”

“Then promise me you’ll try.”

“I’ll try, I promise.”

It burns up in him. A need that turns liquid, molten until all he can do is seek out her lips in a kiss he hopes will bruise. She’s there to receive it, open, willing, her mouth easy and warm against the desperate snarl of his. And he isn’t being gentle. He can’t be. Not right now.

A button snaps off her shirt in his frantic fumbling, the light pop of it like a tooth coming loose and he wants to hear that sound again, a trail of ruin that leaves her bare to him. Lays her out right there, making this moment permanent with the harsh suck of his mouth, leaving himself across the jittery planes of her chest, the jolt of her stomach, the jut of her hips. She lets him. Lets him, lets him, lets him. Her eyes careful, wide, watching him beneath a crumpled brow as he takes and takes and takes.

Red like–

Dripping like–

But she’s sweet, so sweet. His jaw aches with it. Slipping down his throat with each hot drag of his tongue, all the muscle, bone, ligament he holds jumping under his palms. Singular, nothing else, just the taut curl of her spine, perfect pain, perfect pleasure. Something permanent in the way his name breaks in her chest when he pulls her over the edge. And even when her hips start to stutter like broken wings, he persists, his forearm a heavy cage over her pelvis.

Again. Take what I am giving you.

Again. Let me make you stay.

Again. Let me make this real.

Again. Let me, let me, let me.

He makes her cry with it. Revelation realized. And when she finally sobs out for him to come closer, please, please, please, he relents. Seeking out the salt on her skin with his mouth. Open, receiving, wanting.

Everything goes slow, syrupy, slipping sweet when his hips meet hers. And his heart might burst if he moves, veins splitting open and seeping out with how big this feeling is. But she’s steady beneath him, sure fingers brushing back the damp hair in his face, brushing over his scrunched shut eyes, coaxing them open.

“It’s okay, Joel.” Soft, simple, the song of a bird that beats against his ribs. And it’s devastating when he finally moves. Everything, all of it. He leaves all that he can at the gates of her hips. All of the anger, all of the hate, all of the despair, and all of that dizzying feeling he can’t quite name. She takes it, all of it, her lips a permanent press to his brow, arms holding him tight, tight, tight.

Her name, over and over. An invocation stamped into her skin. Stay, stay, stay.

His name, over and over. A prayer being met. Here, here, here.

They unravel so well for each other.

When all that’s left is drying salt and jagged heartbeats, still he remains. Keeping her close, tangled. And it isn’t really a kiss. Two mouths, open, receiving and willing breath from the other. The machinery of their bodies fitting together to create some new beast.

“I’m hungry.”

“You are?”

“Hmm.”

They stand in the kitchen, bare, sweat cooling in the hollows of their skin. Pears, some of the last sweetness before winter. Burning red that reveals pale flesh. They pass it between careful palms, teeth marking new, dripping wounds with each bite. Their lips turn shiny with it, seeking out syrup, smacking, greedy mouths that take, take, take. And when all that’s left are seeds and stem, they chase what’s left off each other’s tongues.

…

His back hurts. He slept curled around her last night. On the floor in front of the couch. His body draped over hers warm, warm, warm. She’s perfect like this, peaceful beneath the weight of him, only stirring with the soft brush of his nose along her jaw. Eyes flickering open and she’s here, really here, with him.

“Good morning, June.” “Good morning, Joel.”

.......................................

taglist: @thetriumphantpanda @suzmagine @casa-boiardi @hollywoodcaligirl @kelp-dreaming @beskarandblasters @swiftispunk @tieronecrush @wannab-urs @jksprincess10 @darkroastjoel @sarahhxx03 @ambassadortotrilliusprime @northernbluess

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller angst #the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller story #joel miller au #joel miller x oc #june

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maria-sand-22 · 20 days

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People angry with rhys for assigning cassian to nesta damage control and rehabilitation and angry with cassian for being to strict and harsh with her and not making excuses for her behaviours is insane

You really just want rhysand to release nesta into velaris when she took more power from the cauldron than she can handle so she can roam amongst the fae children of his court that she hates so much? If I found out that the leader of my nation released his drunken impulsive abusive racist against our race suster in law who is also overpowered and capable of k*lling us all I'd be rioting the next day.

For all he knew as well there wasn't anyone in his IC who wasn't in danger around her except cassian, he's her mate rhysand probably can't imagine any fae would be capable of harming their mate whether they want them or not.

And for the people thinking nesta wasn't that bad and wasn't a danger to the people of velaris feyre didn't mind killing a fae man she didn't know for the simple crime of being fae, nesta hated fae 50 times more than feyre with 50 times less compassion and Impulse control than her, and for all rhysand knew from feyre's memories she was the devil himself nobody was safe around her except the person she physically couldn't bring herself to hurt;

- she literally never cared about feyre's life when the beast came to take her she only protected elain while letting feyre get taken

- she would constantly verbally abuse feyre to the point of irreversible damage to her character and self esteem

“His snarl set the flames of the candles guttering. 'You aren't what I had in mind for a human- believe me.'

I could almost feel the wound deep in my chest as it ripped open and all those awful, silent words came pouring out. Illiterate, ignorant, unremarkable, proud, cold- all spoken from Nesta's mouth, all echoing in my head with her sneering voice."

"I needed new boots, but Elain needed a new cloak, and Nesta was prone to crave anything someone else possessed."

"[...] I glanced at Nesta’s stillshiny pair by the door. Beside hers, my too-small boots were falling apart at the seams, held together only by fraying laces."

“What do you know?” Nesta breathed. “You’re just a half-wild beast with the nerve to bark orders at all hours of the day and night. Keep it up, and someday—someday, Feyre, you’ll have no one left to remember you, or to care that you ever existed.”

She refused to help even though everyone was in danger. “Find somewhere else,” Nesta said again, straight-backed. “I don’t want them in my house. Or near Elain.”

On top of that, Nesta loves to read and she never wanted to teach her younger sister how to read, but there was no problem in encouraging Feyre to hunt while Nesta herself was sitting at home.

"The story is told from Feyre's point of view and she may not have interpreted it correctly." Yes, because there are really many interpretations for your older sister to leave you to die while hugging the other sister. Thank you, next.

If Nesta was a man he would've been an irredeemable monster after acosf, because for an abuser she never truly redeemed herself or expressed any true remorse through actions rather than internal thoughts

Remorseful abusers don't try to hurt their victims further by dragging their reputation through the mud when they take them into their new home

Remorseful abusers don't try to attack or alienate their victims support system

Remorseful abusers don't try to rationalise or excuse 5heir abuse

They simply accept that they F'ed up and live with and accept the consequences of their actions such as their victim struggling to trust them again, their victims loved ones disliking them or never forgiving them, etc..

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian acotar #acosf #acotar fandom

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lauralot89 · 21 days

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If I be sane, then surely it is maddening to think that of all the foul things that lurk in this hateful place the Count is the least dreadful to me; that to him alone I can look for safety, even though this be only whilst I can serve his purpose.

Okay I am fully aware that this is deeply sad, that Jonathan is in hell on earth and will be traumatized for the rest of his life as a result of this, and that his abuser and captor is the only person who acts remotely like a person and is even vaguely safe to be around and how bad that's fucking up Jonathan's head, I get all of that and it is so tragic and so compelling

but I can't not do this

"My tablets! quick, my tablets!

The quote is actually "My tables!" I'm not mocking Jonathan for this, just wondering what the editing process was like in the 1890s.

I thought at the time that I must be dreaming when I saw them, for, though the moonlight was behind them, they threw no shadow on the floor.

Does Dracula have a shadow? Is that ever mentioned?

Two were dark, and had high aquiline noses

Bumpy nose girls represent

It is not good to note this down, lest some day it should meet Mina's eyes and cause her pain; but it is the truth.

Jonathan you sad golden retriever of a man

Then the skin of my throat began to tingle as one's flesh does when the hand that is to tickle it approaches nearer—nearer.

You know, do you think vampires get annoyed by ticklish victims or does the pain of the bite overpower that startle response?

"How dare you touch him, any of you? How dare you cast eyes on him when I had forbidden it? Back, I tell you all! This man belongs to me!

Then the Count turned, after looking at my face attentively, and said in a soft whisper:—

"Yes, I too can love

If my ears did not deceive me there was a gasp and a low wail, as of a half-smothered child.

Dracula this is insufficient

Of one thing I am glad: if it was that the Count carried me here and undressed me

see again my earlier note about all this being deeply sad and add to it that now Jonathan is trying to make himself believe he just passed out and dreamed this all, essentially helping Dracula to gaslight him, and it is tragic.

but

for nothing can be more dreadful than those awful women, who were—who are—waiting to suck my blood

oh sweetheart it can get much worse

#Dracula Daily #Laura reads Dracula Daily

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good-beanswrites · 18 days

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Sorry to double up on your inbox, but I had this burning idea.

Suppose Fuuta's sister has had her hair styled like the Milgram girls at various points. What scenarios might come up when Fuuta mistakes the girls for his sister?

I know you were looking for ideas on all of the girls but I got really carried away with this one train of thought with Kotoko, so have some of that instead 😭 I'm such a sucker for 02-04-06 seeming the type to use beauty products and know their way around a lot of hair care, and triggering memories for Fuuta via scents/sounds of his sister's job. And as you've seen I'm so emotional over him seeing Amane as an equal as they both care for each other and she feels like family...

Fuuta was used to people disappointing him.

He’d been let down by his mother, then his father. He’d seen how all of society screws its people over. His own friends had turned their backs on him when things got rocky. Even here, he couldn’t count on any of these people to look out for him. Well, all except one.

Kotoko.

He’d actually done a double take when he first saw her. Her hair was styled much like his sister’s; from behind, it could have been her with a bit of dye.

It wouldn’t have been so bizarre for her to color her head shining black. After all, that had always been his sister’s method of rebellion. His father was a traditional man, and hated to see her chop all her hair off, chop others’ hair off, add more piercings, or change it to any and every shade that wasn’t the family’s natural red. Fuuta had always thought they were all hollow exercises, more for attention than anything else. (It was nothing like the actual action he was taking to break away from his father’s strictness). Seeing Kotoko wear an eerily similar look, and hearing how closely her views aligned with his, he started to understand the appeal.

While the others were intimidated by her appearance, Fuuta found it familiar. Unlike the rest of the prison, he had no hesitation in approaching her. He was more willing to sit beside her at meals. He joined in her conversations in the common area.

Mahiru kept going on about being everyone’s ‘big sis,’ but she never took a damned thing seriously. Yuno told Fuuta he reminded her of her little brother, but the last thing he needed was to be treated like some baby. Kotoko, on the other hand, knew exactly how to speak with him.

She came to show him her solidarity before his interrogation. She gave him tips on working out, and joined in his conversations about the injustice of current prison systems. She even had his back when he was scolding Mikoto about taking fighting styles seriously. He jeered at the notion that Kotoko could overpower Kazui. Though, deep down, he’d seen how strong the woman was. For someone the same age as him, and busy with university like him, she had insanely impressive power.

He’d never dare admit it, but he looked on in awe whenever she worked out in the common areas.

Fuuta found even more comfort in her strength as the trial came to a close. The two ended up with opposite verdicts, but that wasn’t anything new. Teachers, neighbors, relatives – everyone had reasons to praise his sister while dragging up grievances against him. Both women had a sort of brash charisma that people enjoyed. He usually only got the label of “brash.” Kotoko was saved his rant that it all came from their differences in gender and beauty. Fuuta was confident she’d come to the same conclusion already.

After all, what else separated them? They were here for practically the same reason.

He didn’t let it get under his skin. While the prisoners shied away from him and the others named unforgiven, he could always count on Kotoko to speak with him as honestly and directly as usual.

The warden and the prisoners weren’t the only ones to let him down: the voices in his head had gone from a fair debate to a loud, nasty mob with each passing day.

They seemed to be at their very worst, now. He was going on a few nights of little to no sleep thanks to their nonstop judgment. Fuuta tossed and turned in his sheets, cursing the new uniform that made it impossible to relax. It had been exhausting, consumed by fear and guilt and anger. Everything had him jumpy these days.

He flinched as his cell door creaked.

His bleary eyes turned to the silhouette in the doorway. A name instinctively came to his lips. Thankfully, he corrected himself before making the embarrassing mistake.

“It’s you, Kotoko.” It was strange for her to be here at this hour. And completely unannounced, at that.

“Kajiyama Fuuta…”

He didn’t care. He smiled. After all, surrounded by so many betrayals, he always felt safer with her around.

#milgram #fuuta kajiyama #kotoko yuzuriha #photos taken moments before disaster!!!!#💀#i think kotoko is a bit too open with her opinions where this type of misunderstanding could never happen #but if she were just a little more secretive i think its wholly possible for fuuta to be influenced by her appearance and miss the signals #-_-#i love the idea that yuno reminds him of his victim so to have her Also remind him of his sister would be VERY interesting....#and 'big sis' mahiru actually looking like big sis would have a lot of comedy potential asdfsadf #i feel like muu wouldnt act very sisterly at first but the resemblance would bring them together in a nice way #and then theyd realize theyre really similar and have a real fun dynamic #and even though hed never in a million years admit he wanted amanes help -- if she reminded him of home im sure hed spend even more time #around her ;----;#drabbles

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