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but-a-humble-goon · 2 days

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Hey, I had a thought about Cassandra.

I haven't read any of her comics, only read the Batgirls one with the three batgirls going on their own side with that artstyle I love so much for some reason.

I know the fact that Cass speaks, and how, tend to change a lot between comics and all, and I don't know the exact lore, but I thought a bit deeper about it all from what I know.

Cain never taught Cass how to speak, right? She grew up with fighting and understanding the body as her only way to convey anything from her brain to the world. (even if she obviously learnt to understand other languages)

But languages shape how your brain understand and interact with the world. It is most noticable when someone talk a language they didn't grew speaking, there's those little mishaps or confusion of meaning and use for words that are said to be equivalent, and that's because you have to relearn a way to see and understand things.

I'd say it's even more obvious when the structure of the language changes, I don't speak any sign language, but I know how some things work, and you don't describe things the same way with it as you would with a spoken language. You have to translate the meaning because of that.

Now, to go back to Cass, she didn't grew up with either of those, at least from what I know. Her language is Body. Her mind shaped itself and its understanding of things through her and others' body. How do you translate that?

Like, she doesn't say things, she can see how others' body feel by looking at them, so she express her feeling through her body. If Cass were to want to express an emotion,her mind would first and foremost express it through her body, and that's not words, that's feelings, and your body can reflect so much mors complicated feelings than words.

My point is, if Cass was to learn her first spoken language while in her teens, it would be really hard for her to express herself in a way that is understandable. Bodies reflect intent with specific muscles, while you need to build a sentence. I know fanon make her learn ASL, which is logical from a vocal cords point of view because she never trained it to speak, but that would still make communication hard, because sign languages are still not body language.

I don't know if I get the idea across, but Cass' whole understanding of the world was built around the way bodies work, and it probably holds for animals too, which are just different, sometimes similar, body languages.

It is so intersting! You can only guess how they would understand the world!

But also, would hinder them so much in their communication. Once, if she ever, get past the training to not express any feeling, you would have someone who express anything with movement, postures, specific muscle being tensed or not. Someone one who is constantly seeing how others feel because no one knows how to prevent their bodies from having feeling.

You're on the same level as an empath as long as you can see their bodies. hiding your body allows you to not be truthful about your feeling...

I fee like I'm not going anywhere with this, but the implication over how one would share anything is wide.

It's actually addressed directly at the end of her solo book that for her it's not as easy as just learning a second language, it's a hardware problem. Her brain is so specialized for body language that it lacks the structure to even process written or verbal languages the way a typical brain can. While she can learn, it will always be much more difficult for her than anyone else.

Also the thing that makes her way of communicating unique is that it's sort of "read only." As in, since it's about reading subconscious body language signals there's no real way to consciously express yourself with it. That's part of why she's all about the arts (dancing, drawing etc) because she's never had ways to express herself properly before and words obviously don't work for her.

#cassandra cain #cassandra wayne #batgirl #dc #dcu #comics

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cold-neon-ocean · 8 months

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Remember when I drew everyone as horses lolol??? I should bring that back tbh that was fun. I can't believe these are 3 years old (yeah i can sheesh) I kinda want to bring this AU back though, it was fun and evoked happiness for me ;; my silly horsies

#Legend of Korra #Korra #Bolin #Kuvira #Baatar Jr.#LoK #LoK AU #centaurs #[ repost because I posted this at ass o'clock last night lolol #anyways you get the senior discount if you remember these!#sorry I didn't repost Asami with the rest her art is just so Not Good I'm ashamed to look at it alkjsdfsdf #but I made up for it with a complimentary Bolin!!!!#Look there he is he's here now!!!#I had drawn him along with all the others but never posted him because I wanted to post him with Mako since everyone got posted with a budd #but sadly never got around to drawing Mako c':#I should do that sometime tbh I miss this AU A good centaur AU always warms the heart and sooths the soul #I'd originally posted them with their breeds and coat colors but some folks might get changed *cough* Baatar #these were from back when I really didn't know how to draw anyone because I'd JUST gotten into drawing LoK fanart lol #Baatar doesn't even have his black uniform in this wow #I still like these designs tho buckskin roan Kuvira my pride and joy look at her ;;;;#and blue appy Korra sobs I really loved how she came out tbh one of my favorites I'd actually never drawn Korra before that #idk if I'll ever be able to recreate that shine on Baatar tho i don't even remember what I did ]#Neon Ocean Art

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strangersteddierthings · 6 months

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Beg You to Love Me

"I'm surprised you even remembered, Harrington," Eddie shrugs, hoping he comes off as aloof as he wants to, instead of shaky and unsure like he feels. He was sitting atop the picnic table, arms behind him trying to look as unaffected by Steve's presence as he can, but he's been thrown for a loop ever since Steve emerged from the woods instead of Robin Buckley, like he was expecting.

"Of course, I remember. I- I've never forgotten," Steve whispers, head down and fists clenched at his sides. He looks more like a child being wrongfully scolded than a man defending himself.

The words pull a scoff from Eddie, though. Never forgotten? What the fuck ever. "Right. Something to hold over me, then, if I'd stepped too far out of line? Mutually assured destruction?"

Steve's head snaps up and he looks horrified, which Eddie will admit to almost believing. Steve doesn't seem like the type to join the drama club but his acting's pretty fucking good. "What? No! I would have never- I would never have said anything about us to anyone."

"Right. Sure. Of course. Your own reputation to think about there."

Something like hurt flashes across Steve's face before it frosts over. This is the face he's used to see on Steve. Cold and distant. "I- whatever, man. I don't even know why I thought..." but Steve doesn't finish his sentence. He just shakes his head and turns his back on Eddie, heading back the way he came.

He doesn't know why that sparks a rage from deep within him. "Yeah, that's right. Tuck tail and runaway again!"

"I ran away?" Steve shouts back, turning sharply on his heel to glare at Eddie. "You think that I ran away?"

Eddie just spreads his hands to the empty clearing as if to say 'look at all this room around me you've never occupied'. "You weren't here, were you?"

"Because you told me to not be!" Steve stomps back to Eddie but stops a couple yards away.

"Like fuck I did," Eddie argues back, because he didn't tell Steve to go away. He'd told him-

"'If this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door.' That's what you told me," Steve quotes, "I thought it was pretty fucking clear what you wanted."

"Yeah, I fucking thought it was clear what I wanted," Eddie snarls, lunging from the picnic table, closing those last few feet to get into Steve's face. "Yet here we are!"

"Don't act like this is my fucking fault. Like you weren't the one who forced it to be my fault. My decision-"

"Yeah, it had to be your damn decision! You were dragging it out-"

"-because you were too much of a coward to do it your-fucking-self-"

"-acting like you were. Acting too good to actually slum it with the trailer trash-"

"-so of course I made the choice that was best for me. Because I deserved more-"

"-like what I had to offer you would never be good enough for the goddman King-"

"-than just being your hookup when I wanted to be-"

"-like I wasn't good enough to be your friend, much less-"

"-your fucking boyfriend!"

The contrast of this sudden silence that falls following their screaming match that ends with identical sentiments is jarring. Eddie feels wrong-footed and lost. Confusion and hurt mixing in him that he can see reflected on Steve's face.

"What?" Steve is the first to break the silence, drawing into himself. Arms crossing to hold himself at the elbows as he takes several steps back, as if to be able to see all of Eddie will clear the confusion he's feeling.

Eddie just stares back, slack jawed for a moment. That's. What. No, wait. Really, what? "What what?"

"You- you said 'if this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door'. How was I- I thought you- you were breaking up with me!" Steve cries, "you. You said that to make me pick, because you knew I wanted more and you didn't. That's- you were breaking up with me!"

Eddie's in just as much disbelief. "No, you broke up with me! I said if this isn't good enough but, like, I meant if I wasn't good enough. And you left! You walked out because I wasn't good enough to be with you!"

Steve looks stricken and he claws harder at himself, sort of folds into himself like he's going to be sick. "No. No no no, that's- then that means I- it's all been my fault. No no no no."

Eddie stares wide-eyed and frozen as Steve talks to himself. Eddie kind of feels nauseous. There's no way that this is possible. That these last two and a half years of heartbreak have been because of miscommunication. That they both thought the other was breaking up with them and neither actually wanted to.

"Why didn't you- Why didn't you say something?" Eddie asks.

Steve laughs at that, sounding a bit hysteric. "Me!? Why didn't you! I wasn't- I wasn't going to beg you to love me like I had with my parents. You were the one who told me I shouldn't have to do that!"

Yeah. He had. When Steve had broken down and cried on his bed, in his arms, wondering what it was he had done to lose his parents' love. Eddie told him it wasn't his fault, never would be, and that he would never need to beg for love from someone who does love him. It was the same advice Wayne had given him when he'd taken Eddie in.

"I already thought you were wanting to break up. You were being so distant, I thought..."

Steve sucks in a deep breath and nods, "Yeah. Yeah I was. I was scared of scaring you away. Of being too much. Because I- what I felt for you was a lot. I was afraid I'd chase you away if I continued to be so clingy. I pulled back, to reign it in but. Fuck. Fuck!"

Eddie drops to a squat. His legs feel like jelly and he can't keep standing. He squats and looks down so his hair becomes a curtain separating him from the reality of the situation, if only for a moment. Fuck is right.

He's spent his junior and first senior year being pissed at Steve. Hurt by him and what he thought happened. And it's- if Steve's being honest, it's all been for nothing. If they both wanted a deeper relationship, they could have had it. They might still be boyfriends if Eddie hadn't been so wrapped up in his Munson Doctrine. He'd been convincing himself Steve was embarrassed of him, and was working on breaking off their- whatever they were. But he hadn't been.

He's thought such terrible things about Steve over the years. God, what has Steve thought of him over the years? No. He doesn't want to know, actually. That's not what he cares about right now.

He lifts his head to see that Steve's plopped himself onto the ground, sitting cross legged, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

"Steve. Steve!" He calls Steve's name out until he looks up, looks at him, "why'd you come out here?"

He laughs again, slightly less hysterically, and he's shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to say. "I. Fuck, I was coming out here to beg you to love me."

"No you fucking weren't!" his tone is filled with disbelief.

"I was," Steve repeats, sounding amused and heartbroken at the same time. "I really, really was. Graduation's coming and I know you want to get out of Hawkins the second that happens and I'm. I was running out of time trying to get you to notice me again, so I was going to beg."

Notice him again? As if Steve doesn't haunt his every waking thought. As if he doesn't dream of Steve every night while his eyes seek him across the halls and in their few shared classes like he's the goddamn night sky and Eddie is a sailor lost at sea needing the north star to guide him home. Eddie's never not noticed him, and he thinks he has to come out here and beg? "When someone loves you, you don't have to beg."

"Yeah, I know," Steve sighs, defeated, which lets Eddie know that Steve does not, in fact, know. He looks away from Eddie, down to his lap.

Fuck, it's like every fantasy Eddie's had of them making up and then making out has been handed to him on a silver platter and he's blowing it. His words are too vague, too easily misinterpreted. Again. He falls forward on to his knees, hands catching him so he's on all fours like an animal. "Steve. I mean it. You don't have to beg."

"I get it, Eddie," Steve huffs, not looking at him. Not actually understanding.

Eddie starts to crawl the distance between them. Steve looks up then, probably to see what the fuck Eddie was doing with the shuffling sounds and the chain on his belt clacking. Eddie watches Steve's eyes go wide, mouth dropping open to a small 'o'. "See, the thing is, Steve," Eddie says, pulling himself up to be just on his knees to shuffle the last few inches closer. Steve leans back to keep his eyes on Eddie's face, which opens his lap up. "You said you know, but I don't think you do." Eddie brings his hands to rest on Steve's shoulders and Steve lets him. "You don't have to beg." He uses his hold on Steve's shoulders to balance himself as he swings a leg wide, to straddle Steve, then shifts his weight to repeat the process with his other leg before settling himself into Steve's lap. Steve's hands land on his hips and Eddie isn't sure if it's intentional or a reaction to Eddie plopping himself in his laps but he's going to believe it's the first one. "You've never had to beg with me."

Steve sucks in a sharp breath and then he collapses into Eddie. Steve's hands on his hips slide up and pull him into a hug, as close to Steve's body as he can get, while Steve shoves his head under Eddie's chin, into the junction of his neck and shoulder and breaths him in like it's the last breath Steve will ever take. "We're so stupid."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, as he lifts one hand to hold the back of Steve's head while the other drops to rub soothingly at his back. "Yeah, we are."

They sit in the dirt, the closest they've been since that summer between '81 and '82. They should probably talk about. They're going to have to, if they want this to work. Full sentences with no hidden meanings, even though the thought of that kind of vulnerability makes Eddie skittish. It's going to be difficult, but it'll be worth it. Steve has always been worth it.

Eddie wants to say 'I love you', just to get it out, in the open, and not just implied, but there's a different first step to take. One that's actually a little easier. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Me too," Steve whispers, "I'm sorry. I should have-"

"Shut up," Eddie cuts him off, voice quiet and soft as he can be. "This is, and I cannot stress it enough, a we situation."

The huff of laughter on his skin from Steve feels like the start of something. A new beginning, a start over. A re-do.

A goddamn miracle.

Later, they'll drag themselves apart and up. Make it to the back of Eddie's van in the school parking lot to talk. Going to either's house feel too much, too soon. Their big fight happened at Eddie's home, and Steve's house isn't warm enough for the kind of comfort they want to share.

They'll have a talk. Filled with long pauses, stumbling over words and fears and insecurities because this is the hard part of a relationship. Getting it all out in the open so they can learn if they'll even work. The fear that they aren't going to be compatible anymore looms but doesn't deter. They both want a second chance, to give it a real shot, by the end of that first talk. But taking it slow.

They'll discuss what went wrong the first time (diving in without talking about anything certainly played a big part) and how to avoid that.

But that's later. Right now, Eddie just holds Steve, and Steve holds him back, and it certainly feels like the beginning of something good.

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems

#steddie #my fic #this is just Miscommunication The Fic #hurt/comfort #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckleys the mvp for setting up the meeting by lying to eddie #shes going to demand a thank you gift for giving them the time to talk #and eddie WILL send her a whole fruit basket

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keyotos · 7 months

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"you know, if being cute was a crime, you'd be guilty as charged!"

you have been at this for hours (it has only been a few minutes) now. wriothesley, who has been idly sipping his tea with a straight face, has not yet wavered at your terrible pick-up lines.

"that one was bad," he sips. you roll your eyes.

you clear your throat, "if fine was a felony, you'd be on death row," you give wriothesley an exaggerated wink.

he gives you a disconcerted look.

you pout, "okay, c'mon! that one was good!"

wriothesley puts his teacup on the table and moves his chair closer to yours, "i don't think death row should be associated with romance," he shakes his head, "that may have been the worse one today."

"i think that was, 'are you a crime? because i'll do you anyday!'" you laugh and grab wriothesley's teacup, taking a drink out of it so ordinarily.

wriothesley basks in this. tonight is a quiet night: the inmates aren't awake, sigewinne has clocked out for the day, and you are here. it's strange how you are one of the loudest people wriothesley knows of, yet you make the world sound so quiet when you're around. whatever your magic is, wriothesley isn't opposed to it.

everything about this scene reads domesticity, even though the two of you have been together for a couple of months. spending late nights together, sleeping in the same bed, drinking out of the same teacup? if someone had told wriothesley a few months ago that he would be doing these things (nevertheless with you), he would have called them mad. but here he is, sitting in his office doing nothing but drinking tea, while hearing you recite horrible pick-up lines.

"wouldn't it be the perfect crime if i stole your heart and you stole mine?" you push the teacup towards you boyfriend.

wriothesley winces, "maybe that was the worse one today."

"what?! i thought that one wasn't bad."

your boyfriend looks to the side, "it was really cheesy."

"clearly, you missed the point of pick-up lines," you lay your head down on the desk, "i'd like to see you come up with one."

wriothesley chuckles. you relish in the fact that you are one of the only people that have ever heard him laugh. it's an unexpected sound, and it always comes out more lighter than most people would think. but it's endearing, just like him; you always think that a light chortle from him would paint your dark skies to a clear blue.

"i'm saving myself from the embarrassment," wriothesley sips out of the teacup, on the same side you drank of, you might add.

"boring," you draw out the syllables of the word.

"what? did you run out of lines?" wriothesley teased you, taking another drink out of the teacup to hide his smile. he watched as your face morphed into a light grimace.

"i did not, actually," you raise your head off the desk, "in fact, i'm thinking of one right now."

"oh no..." wriothesley shivers. you shoot him a petulant look. he backs down.

when you think, you have this habit of sticking your tongue out of your lips, just ever-so slightly. your eyebrows crease just a little bit, not enough to be furrowed, but enough to not be at resting position. your eyes don't narrow, they widen. wriothesley thinks that if someone caught you like this on a kamara, your photos would go down in history.

finally, after what felt like years (it was one minute), you look back up at him. this time, however, your eyes are laced with uncertainty rather than flirtatiousness.

"if being in love is illegal, would you be my partner in crime?"

love. you guys haven't talked about it yet.

was that why your eyes were so full of nervousness? did you think he didn't love you back? if that was the case, then it'd be preposterous, for how can anyone look at you and not fall in love? although, wriothesley supposes that it's a good thing, because that means you're his to have.

one side of his brain is in doubt. it's just a joke, it says, they're not being truthful, it's just a pick-up line. but his heart says otherwise. if they were joking, then why do their eyes look like that? why are they fidgeting with their fingers? why are they gently tapping their foot on the ground?

love has never been a consideration for wriothesley. throughout his life, it has been abandonment and independence. there's only been room for one, not two. but you: you reconstructed his entire mind. so now, when he thinks about drinking tea, he doesn't drink alone anymore. when he's staying late to do paperwork, he doesn't have to be alone while doing so. when there was one, there is now two.

oh.

oh shit. your confession of love came from a pick-up line. and it actually worked on him, because he loves you back. he loves you back so much. wriothesley loves you back with his heart, his mind, his body, and possibly his soul. and he realized the extent of his love through a pick-up line. from you out of all people.

though, even though he's in love with you, he's not letting you get the satisfaction of your line working.

"i don't know. according to the my close friend, the duke of meropide, he says it's illegal to participate in criminal activities." wriothesley's tone is soft. his eyes are full of endearment. your eyebrows stop crinkling, and your eyes revert back to normal. you know. you know.

you give into an easy smile, "don't you think your friend, the duke, is a little too compliant to the law?"

"sorry, he's not changing his ways. but," wriothesley gets out of his chair and strides towards you. his hand meet your jawline, and his thumb traces the corner of your lip that's turned downwards due to your pout. with his thumb, he guides it upward, making it so you were smiling. he laughs slightly⎯twice tonight, which is something he did not expect to do⎯and moves his thumb to lightly caress your bottom lip.

he uses his hand to tilt your head up towards him. you know what's coming, and you excitedly lean in closer. wriothesley tilts his head down to meet your lips, carefully tracing every angle of your jaw as he does so. you meet him halfway, closing the gap between you two almost immediately. wriothesley can feel you happily grin into the kiss. you grab his shirt collar and pull him closer into you, and he obliges with no hesitation.

you are the first one to pull away, and it takes all of wriothesley's willpower to stop himself from pulling you back in.

"but?" you ask, chest heaving up and down. wriothesley, the bastard, is still breathing normally. "does the duke of meropide have any contentions?"

wriothesley shakes his head, "i think he could make some exceptions," he whispers, grinning while doing so.

he doesn't miss the beaming glow of your smile as leans in once more. and then, he knows that he'll be your partner in crime for a long time.

#tana writes (∗´ ᨔ `∗)#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n #they r so sweet nothing by tswift coded #THIS WAS THE CUTEST THING I EVER WROTE

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star-anise · 2 years

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This is what the fight is like

Sooo, apparently the extremely tenuous and recent nature of the LGBTQ+ community's legal right to exist was not actually super widely known to a lot of people on Tumblr?

Which clarifies some stuff in retrospect. I have so often wanted to grab people by their lapels and shout, "Stop picking on someone for not meeting your entry requirements! We need everyone we can get, you asshole! DON'T YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THEY HATE US OUT THERE?"

Aaaapparently... no, they did not know. Or they knew and were a conservative psyop preparing the ground for our loss of legal rights. Fun times!

So: Look, it is bad. Shit is scary. They really do hate us out there. You're not wrong.

But: This is what we've always fought. This boat we're in with its antique fittings and strange markings on the floor is a battleship. Work has always been going on in the basements, and when shit gets tough, we clear away clutter and roll out the cannons.

I found this chart a couple weeks ago and hung onto it because it felt like the map to my first 25 years on this earth:

[Image description: A graph titled "Same Sex Marriage: Public Polls since 1988." It is from FiveThirtyEight's NYT column. It records the percentage of US Americans polled who would say yes or no to legalizing same-sex marriage, from 1988 to 2011.

The two lines begin with roughly 10% saying yes in 1988, and 70% saying no; the two lines gradually draw closer over the years, until by 2011, the percent saying finally dips under 50%, and the group saying yes makes a tentative reach for the majority. End of image description.]

After some great social change has happened, when everyone has admitted that gay marriage is very cute and Pride is a colourful parade, hooray, people like to pretend that it was just natural and inevitable and happened on its own. People just became less prejudiced! Courts just decided on a case! Governments just passed a law!

In reality, it was a vicious fucking fight, every fucking time. Every fucking where. There are a lot of people who deeply, sincerely believe that a hundred years ago, society had good rules about sex and gender and intercourse and marriage, and that changing those rules has made the world worse. They don't always agree on the specifics, but they can work together far enough to fight anyone with new ideas.

This is why we are a community. Even when we don't have the same experiences of attraction or identity, even when we don't do the same things, even when we have wildly different ideas of a good time. Because when these groups take aim, we're all under fire, and none of us is responsible for why they hate us.

In some ways I think it's a miracle that there seems to be a generation that did not grow up, as I grew up, constantly glued to news reports about What Percentage of Society Hates Us this month. I can't imagine who I'd be if my brain and heart and soul hadn't been tied up, that whole time, in the political question of whether I'd get to dream of a decent future.

I think that it will give us strength to have people who can imagine a world where no one hates us. Who believe in it so strongly they can taste it. That's my prediction: If you didn't know this was coming, you'll be a boon to us, because we have always needed joy so fiercely, in this fight, to keep us going on. We have needed drag queens and punk bands and "her wife" and safe space stickers. Parade floats and wedding days and little dogs with rainbow collars, badges and banners and meetups, because more than anything else we need to fight our own despair, and our fear that the world will never get any better than this.

It will. We know it will. We can taste it.

Look up to the history, organizations, and people who've got us this far for information on what forms of activism will actually advance our political goals. Look to the side to make sure the comrades within reach are keeping their heads above water, and that you're keeping enough joy going to stay alive. Look back to see who's more vulnerable than you are that you might have forgotten or been tempted to leave behind. Look after each other. Look after yourself.

We can do this.

To your battle stations.

#lgbt discourse #staranise original

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kairiscorner · 8 months

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question of the day: who would fall the hardest if they ever fell in love?

well... i've got 4 candidates in mind, and i think... (1/4)

miles g. morales — guilty of falling hard for you.

summary: miles morales always struck you as an apathetic guy, one who wouldn't particularly take relationships too seriously; until you both fell for each other, you realized... he did indeed fall for you, but he fell hard, way, way too hard for you. pairing: miles 42 x gn!reader genre: fluff !!

miles g. morales was, to you, such a cold, apathetic guy who always looked calm and composed in everything he did. he seemed like a guy that, you believed, wouldn't care too much if he was in a relationship–that he would put himself before his significant other; though you didn't have any evidence to back it up, save for how distant he seemed to you at first. but oh, were you wrong.

miles g. morales wasn't really all that insensitive as you thought when you got to know him, in fact–he was more sensitive to your thoughts, needs, and wants more than any other boy had ever been for you. it took a while, but the longer you spent around him, the more obvious was the fact that he truly, truly cared about you, from the bottom of his heart.

miles g. morales was the boy who'd stay after class, waiting for your class to finish so he could meet up with you and just be around you. ask him to explain why he's always risking his ass getting scolded for loitering outside your classroom, he can't give you one straight answer. "we had free time", "i had no where else to go", "i... left a pencil in that classroom. yeah."

miles g. morales would never admit to your face that he does indeed stare at you sometimes when you're not looking. whenever he sits close to you in class, be it behind, next to, or diagonally across to you–he always finds every angle of you to be a perfect angle to stare at and admire. don't be mad that he's looking, though, he can't help himself; you're way too mesmerizing for him to handle.

miles g. morales whose sketchpad gradually became a book full of... you in it. it started off as simple, small doodles of you; little cartoony you's that he found adorable and kept drawing when he wasn't focusing on anything else. but as time went by, he found himself focusing on you and your features more and more, almost as if he couldn't rip his gaze away from you.

miles g. morales had also noticed that whenever you speak, he hangs on to every word you say. he thought it would've creeped you out at first, how he can remember all the little details you'd tell him when you're telling him about something that happened in your day or how he remembers all the names of your pets, friends, favorite restaurants, favorite bands and artists–he hangs on to every word you utter, and he can't help it; your voice is just too tantalizingly sweet and attractive that he can't not listen to every word you speak.

miles g. morales was the boy who would use his intimidating appearance to his advantage and defend you against assholes who wouldn't take 'no' from you for an answer. he'd stare them down and glare at them, remind them for you that you said 'no', and if they didn't get the message the first time... they'll have to get through him to get to you. "i'm not gonna back down just because they're bigger than me, because i don't fear them. i don't fear them because, for all their brawn, they sure don't have any brains. and whatever happens after, i'll make sure you don't get in trouble; i'll shoulder the fault. i'd do this for you, every time."

miles g. morales would never wish to get in trouble or have beef with anyone else, but if it was you that others were bothering, then he'd willingly do everything he can to keep you safe and unbothered. he doesn't care what happens to him, so long as you stay safe, so long as it isn't your face being beaten in. you insist he shouldn't do these things for you, but... he can't help it. to picture you in danger makes his heart feel heavy; to get rid of that heaviness, he does these things for you, because he... he loves you.

miles g. morales doesn't dream at night, or at least didn't dream for a long while–or maybe he did and just forgets what he dreamt of the previous night–but when you two became much closer friends, he began to see glimpses and images of you in his dreams. in his wildest dreams, he was able to tell you in all kinds of scenarios that he felt weird around you–a good kind of weird. he'd feel a kind of warmth in his chest, accompanied by the pitter-pattering of his heart when your eyes lock with his, and he feels this urge in the corners of his lips to smile widely when you smile up at him. and, he'd never tell you this, but... in those dreams, he'd tell you how he really feels, and you'd teach him how to handle those feelings by placing your hands on either sides of his cheeks and pulling him close to your face–your nose feeling so soft against his own when your noses brush together–and with the feeling of your hot breath against his own lips... he wakes up.

miles g. morales wakes up to the reality that you probably only see him as a very good friend, a friend you used to think wouldn't care about those who love him but was proven very, very wrong. the friendship bracelet you made for him sits there by his nightstand, next to a cutely frame photo of the two of you at your birthday party. you designed that photo frame for him, and despite how a guy like him probably wouldn't care for cute things... he finds comfort and solace in a bit of cuteness in his life; he just wishes he could express that to you, you, who is cuteness personified. he wears that friendship bracelet every day–and wears it proudly. he doesn't hide it under his sleeve nor tuck it away when you're not looking; he's always got it on and shows it off by just having it on him. he loves having mementos of you on him, it gives him a feeling he hasn't had in a long time... and he hopes that, by some miracle, you'd feel that feeling for him, too.

tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @onginlove @meowmoraless @euphovlq @anikaluv @conitagray @q2ie @zalayni

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itsajollyjester · 4 months

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yessss that defo answers my questions! ur thoughts on compassion & community intertwined w rebellion definitely show up in ur art lol. something more specific i have been curious abt is ur version of the endings of each specific hunger games & ur characterization/portrayal of the victors at those points! if u have any more thoughts abt any of those characters or their games id love to hear.... im also very not neurotypical abt hunger games

For sure!! But this is a novel and a half so I apologize in advance (also most of this is from memory so anyone can correct me if I'm getting any details wrong)

((TW: For visual depictions of Blood, Gore, and Wounds))

I realized I'd seen barely any art showing what the victors would have looked like when they won their games. They were all just kids and I feel like it can be easy to forget that sometimes

For all of them, I made the background one of their main "weapons" but tried to make it look like its turning back on them instead since there are no victors as Haymitch said.

I'll try to explain them all more in depth individually going in the order I drew them:

Finnick Odair, 65th Games:

His main weapons were his trident and nets that he made with vines. His background is one of the nets ready to trap him.

Finnick was the youngest victor ever at only 14. I really really wanted to emphasize just how little that is. (Especially since we know exactly why the Capitol loved him from the start…) Once I actually drew him looking that little I had to step away for a bit because I made myself too sad…

Outside of just how horrific his age is as a concept, I tried to think about what circumstances would lead to him actually winning when surrounded by older tributes. I think he would have had to avoid any kind of fight he didn't have the upper hand in. We know that he got the most expensive sponsor gifts in the history of the games (a trident), so he probably got plenty of sponsors outside of that as well. Because of that I doubt he needed to go looking for supplies much if ever so it was easy to avoid people there. He was also probably in a career pack, despite his age, due to his training and his popularity, and they would have hunted other tributes down together much like the one we saw in the first book (safer in numbers). Once it was narrowing down and the pack broke is when I think he started catching people in nets. All of that is a long winded way of saying that's why, unlike the other victors I drew, I only show him with minor cuts and bruises.

Originally I was going to draw him with a kind of strained smile like he was acting for an audience from the start. But I decided I actually think its sadder if he believed he was popular because of his skill and strategy as a fighter and only learned the whole truth after he won and that's when he started acting more for the camera. Instead I gave him a more muted despair kind of look, like his world is crashing down. One of my favorite parts about the movies, mainly THG and ABOSAS, is when they give the career tributes at the end a moment of realization about what they've done, and I wanted to give Finnick his. I'm a person that believes Finnick had to have volunteered for his games. I think he would have legitimately believed in the propaganda the career districts were fed and had a bit of a (very middle school boy) ego about his abilities. (I was NOT expecting to write so much about his lmao)

Enobaria, 62nd Games

She's most well known for ripping someones throat out with her teeth. (Her background is her sharpened teeth getting ready to eat her.) This is treated by The Capitol, and by Katniss, as grotesque and terrifying blood lust (Which obviously the Capitol loves her for). However, and I'm not at all the first to say it, that sounds more like a terrified and desperate attempt to survive a fight she was losing and an example of hysterical strength. We know that Career packs have had bloody betrayals in the past and I can see Enobaria being a part of one of them. Enobaria doesn't have a canonical age, but I decided to put her on the younger side (15 or 16.) I can imagine some of the older, bigger tributes deciding she was the weakest link towards the end and that was the result. I tried to make the blood around her mouth and down her shirt look more faded, like she tried desperately to wipe it off (Also I had to step away from drawing again after I drew her little tooth gap)

I think she probably leaned into the bloodthirsty image afterwards as a way to protect herself and (maybe even started to believe it too)

Annie Cresta, 70th Games

Annie's known for losing her mind after seeing her district partner decapitated in front of her. After that, she ran off and hid until the game makers started an earth quake, which made the large dam in the arena break and cause a huge flood. Annie was the only survivor because she was the strongest swimmer. So I decided to make her background dark water that's churning up and over her head. I also think it can work well as a way to show her mental state in the moment (and afterwards) Annie is actually one of my favorite characters in the series and I've been writing out a plan for a possible comic series about her that'll go more in depth about my headcanons for her. (when I say comic series, I mean sketches and oneshots, not a full thing lmao) It wouldn't take place during her games (outside of a few flashbacks when I need more context), instead it would start at her Victory Tour and go into her first (and last) year as a mentor for the 71st Games. Which is a perfect segue to-

Johanna Mason, 71st Games

Johanna is actually first mentioned early on in the first book when Katniss is wondering if the reason Peeta is crying is because he plans to act weak and helpless as a strategy in the games. (Katniss, he just found out he has to fight in a murder tournament with his crush. He's just Sad.) She bases her theory on Johanna, who pretended she was a "sniveling, cowardly fool" in the arena until the final stretch of the games when she proved to be deadly with an axe.

OR….. Katniss is an unreliable narrator and Johanna was actually a terrified kid from a district with so few victors that she was the only name in the bowl for the Quarter Quell… This is totally just a personal headcanon of mine tho lol. I think there would have been a point in her games where she realized she actually had a chance and that's when she seemingly had a huge character turn around. Maybe there was a infighting with the careers that ended in multiple deaths and there was only a few left along with any other tributes hiding away like her. Maybe she poked around what was left of their camp, found the axe, and felt strength from her district.

Her background was a little harder for me. Just slapping a big axe behind her felt cheesy. But them I remembered her saying there was no one left that she loved. So instead I put trees that could represent her loved ones (Two fully grown trees, a younger "teenage" tree, and a sapling) that are in the process of being cut down.

Haymitch Abernathy, 50th Games

Don't worry, I'm almost done. I don't have as much to say about Haymitch since we know SO much about what happened in his games. But his background was probably the hardest for me. His main weapon was invisible after all. I thought maybe the axe that was used, but again, That would look cheesy. I tried (and kinda failed imo) to draw the cliff side the force field was on instead. But the main thing I did was split the three panels I had on the previous drawings into six for two reasons. 1: Because he had to face twice as many tributes in order to win and 2: Being the only victor of a district that's tributes are seen as fodder for the blood bath means he had to meet and watch the death of twice as many kids every year.

#tw blo0d #tw g0re #tw wounds #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #hunger games fanart #hunger games headcanon #thg series #ask #finnick odair #enobaria #annie cresta #johanna mason #haymitch abernathy #jolly art

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ratcash-wasgud · 1 month

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Hihi! Hope you are having a great day, but I had an idea/request for a modern mizu headcanons or fic? or a mix of both? I've been having a rough week, and dealing with some sh. i know this can be triggering for some, so don't write it if it's too much, but I'd really appreciate maybe a modern mizu x struggling or sh reader? and mizu does what she can to help reader feel better and keep reader safe from harming themselves? i hope this is okay! xoxo

hey lovely! no, no, this is actually so valid. i love this idea.

TW tho, as obvious, self harm and mention of suicide.

I hope you enjoy this one.

"...Hey, you...you okay?" Mizu steps into the bathroom, her face draining of color. She noticed how different you were acting these past weeks;

Randomly going silent during conversations, refusing to make eye contact with anyone, or biting you lips and picking at your skin violently...

But she'd never thought she'd see this. You, the love of her life, the one she'd die if she lost, the only one keeping her sane, standing or...hunching over in front of the bathroom sink, blood trickling and dripping everywhere, and your eyes looking back at her.

She's frozen. She doesn't know what to do. She doesn't know what would be right to do in this situation. Should she comfort you? Do you even want her comfort right now?

But all those questions flee her mind the moment your lips start trembling, your eyes narrow and fill up with tears, your nose scrunching up in a sniffle. "I...I'm sorry."

Mizu doesn't hesitate to basically jump away from the door and rush to hug you, not caring about the blood getting on her clothes. "It's okay...it's okay." She whispers it like a mantra in your ear. "Everything's fine...I'm here, you're here. We're here...i promise everything's fine."

After that, she sat on the bathroom floor with you until you calmed down, stroking your back while whispering the same, calming things in your ear.

When you calmed down, Mizu bandaged up your arms in silence after cleaning them up. She made sure to be gentle, not wanting to touch any cuts directly, but putting enough pressure on them to stop the bleeding. She didn't dare to look into your eyes while she did it, but when she was done, she leaned down to gently kiss the bandages.

She didn't ask anything, as she didn't know what to ask, or if she can even ask anything. She was just...worried. Worried more than anything.

She then silently led you to the bed, cuddled up behind you, and waited for the similar sound of your breathing slowing down as you fell asleep.

She couldn't sleep for a couple hours more tho. She stayed up, eyes closed, face burried into the warmth of your neck from behind.

You're warm. You're still here.

The next morning, she woke up before you, preparing coffee like she always does for you. When you came out to the kitchen, your eyes sleepy and the bandages still tight on your arms, Mizu gathered up all her strength.

"...can you tell me why?" She asks, her voice low and quiet. You looked at her for a couple moments, before sitting down at the kitchen table.

You started talking about your family backround, how school and work combined stress you out, how you don't like looking at yourself in the mirror. Mizu knew she was the one asking, but she hated hearing it, because she felt powerless.

But even if she felt that way, she was determined. She'll somehow make it better for you.

She spent the next day, thinking about ways to help you get more comfortable with yourself.

She started drawing small cats and bugs on your bandages when she changed them, to make you not want to throw up when you see them.

She stole your lipstick to make a kissmark on the mirror, to exactly where your forehead is in height, so everytime you look in the mirror, you get "kissed".

And she came up with this genius idea to bug a huge pack of stickers, and give you one for every day you stay clean.

She knew it wasn't much.

But to you it meant the world.

#blue eye samurai #bes mizu #blue eye samurai mizu #mizu x reader #blue eye samurai x reader #bes x reader #mizu fanfic #fanfiction #sh comfort

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mrs-illyrian-baby · 7 months

Text

The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 1

Rules to Follow | Loki x Reader

The Avengers bring you to the compound after a series of odd events draws their attention. Life seems to be looking up, until your abilities start to show again.

Chapter warnings: 18+ for implied sexual content, false/medical imprisonment

Series Masterlist

The cold, bleak conference room was a welcome balm against the uproar of the last two days.

You weren't sure how it happened. One minute you were furious, staring down from the balcony of your flat, anger bubbling through your veins. And then you were watching a row of cars burn in the car park below.

Maybe you would've gotten away with it if the weather was bad. If less people had been around. If it hadn't gone viral on TikTok. If it was the first time you'd done something weird.

It wasn't unusual for people to have strange powers, not anymore, but there were certain rules to follow. Rules that included not setting cars on fire and frightening passersby. Rules your grandfather had set about staying in the flat and controlling your emotions, taking your medicine and laying low.

A hand snapped in front of your face.

“Okay kid, spill. What are you?” Tony asked.

“Uhm, I’m not anything at all?”

“No, come on. Setting shit on fire, what’s that?”

“Monster, alien or wizard?” Sam piped up.

“I swear to god Samuel quit it with that,” a pen flew across the room with surprising accuracy and embedded itself in the wall behind Sam’s head.

You’d seen them on TV, the Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Captain America, Black Widow, Hulk, Vision, Scarlet Witch and Iron Man. It’d be cool if you had any idea why you were here.

“Mr Stark. I didn’t even know I was doing it until it was too late. I don't know how it happens, but I promise I’m not a threat. It wasn't deliberate, you have to believe me." Your voice wavered, tears pooling in your tired eyes.

“Tony, let her sleep. She can use the spare room on our floor. We’ll keep an eye on her”

“Thank you Mr Rogers” you choked, wiping your eyes.

“Steve, please” his face was soft, reassuring.

It took an hour to find you something proper to wear.

A day to get your room fixed up, belongings brought from your little flat in London and new furniture procured

A week before you ate with the team, although you watched them from a safe distance.

A month before you really spoke to anyone. Eventually they called in a therapist.

The compound was nice, spacious and modern. There was no work to do, like at your grandfather's flat, just lots of questions that left you tired and disoriented.

Lauren the therapist was the only person you'd really communicated with, even though you were sure she was relaying the information back to the Avengers anyway.

"So from what I can tell, she's around twenty five to thirty." Lauren addressed the room, taking in the gathered Avengers. "The details of her life are very hazy, she lived in that flat you visited, Steve, with her Grandad. I know she cared for him and he died some months ago leaving her the flat in his will. She takes medication every day." Laura turned to Bruce "I hope the few I managed to pass on were helpful, so you can refill her script when she needs it."

"That's the thing," Bruce said, "I can't work out what she's been taking. I've had FRIDAY take scans and vitals, asked Dr Cho, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with her."

"Because she takes her pills?"

"No, Steve, there's just - there's nothing wrong with her. Her temperature is a little elevated. But that's it, not a dangerous amount. I'd just say she runs warmer."

"So what's in the pills?" Tony asked, leaning over Bruce to look in the manilla file he had spread open on the table.

"If I didn't know better I'd say something alien."

"But you do know better…" Tony prompted.

"Adgardian maybe? But in a bottle from her local pharmacy. The name on the bottle’s been scratched off and I couldn’t find anything like this on any pharmacy database."

Tony and Steve turned to Natasha and she nodded. She'd not been able to find anything either. No phone, no social media, home schooled. Sam suggested they do it the ‘old fashioned way’ and started to encourage Lauren to bring the woman out of her room to spend time with the others in hopes she would make more friends and let more information out.

As you spent more time with the group they found you brought a strange sense of calm, arguments stopped as you approached the table, worries about missions faded away. They even spent more time together as a team organising movie nights and parties, sitting together and being more tactile.

That’s when things started to get very strange.

The old evening routine of everyone slinking off to their bedrooms had been replaced by an easy comradery and then a fizzle of excitement started to build. The music seemed muffled and even Steve and Bucky’s heads felt fuzzy, drunk.

“Let's play spin the bottle!” You declared, downing your beer and lining it up on the coffee table. Before anyone else could fully agree you had flicked the bottle, everyone watched it slow until it came to a stop in front of Wanda.

“You girls don’t have to kiss if you don’t want to,” Steve said. But you shook your head.

“I don’t mind if Wanda doesn’t… I like girls too and it's just a game, right?” you shrugged.

You leaned over and kissed Wanda quickly on the lips, noting the frisson of tension that built when you pulled away.

Sam went next, “your lucky night,” he laughed before pulling you in for a kiss.

The next spin was Natasha and somehow no one was surprised when it landed on you again. Natasha leaned in close but, before her lips could meet yours, you tilted your head to whisper in her ear, “I know there’s someone else you want to kiss, you don’t have to." Natasha blushed, but pressed a warm kiss to your lips anyway.

“Did you rig this bottle?” Steve asked, picking it up before spinning. You, again.

Bucky put his hand on the bottle. “I wonder who” he laughed, but you had noticed his eyes move across the circle to the red headed assassin.

As he leaned in for the inevitable kiss you put your hand up, hiding your mouths, “she’s a good kisser,” the words were out before you could stop them. Bucky pulled back, frowning.

“Who?”

You didn't answer, but your eyes danced across the circle to Natasha, studying Bucky's face as he followed the line of your sight. With their eyes locked you placed a chaste kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

You felt dizzy, only two beers in, but your head was swimming. The rest of the group weren’t fairing any better, both girls falling asleep and the boys nodding back against the sofa. Quietly you removed yourself from the pile of blankets and slunk back to your room. You hadn’t meant to say any of that, but you could feel it deeply, so deeply the words had bubbled out before you could swallow them back down.

That night your sleep troubled you, the room was too warm making you sweat and writhe in the sheets and dreams of the Avengers flashing behind your closed eyes.

The next morning no one could make eye contact, each team member focusing on their coffee or toast, eyes down.

When you sat down the same static spark of electricity seemed to move over the kitchen island, making everyone squirm and move in their seats.

Eventually Wanda completed the group, walking in red faced and nervous as she looked around the kitchen before visibly relaxing.

“Oh, we all had the same dream!” She exclaimed “I don’t feel so bad now.” She said, cheerily.

“Wan, you’re not meant to read our minds,” Natasha protested, covering her ears as if that would make any difference at all.

“Can we not talk about it,” Bucky grumbled, looking away from Natasha.

“But you slept, Bucky, isn’t that good?” At least Wanda was happy, you felt hot and sick “you didn’t have a nightmare like usual, you had the same …”

“Enough,” he snapped, slamming his spoon into his bowl a little too hard, milk splashing on the spotless counters.

“Your dream was different though,” Wanda put a hand on your temple despite your attempt to squirm away, “yeah, yours was very different. And so was yours,” She pointed at Natasha who looked over to Bucky without thinking.

Wanda squeaked, a hand over her mouth “But Bucky, yours was just like…”

“Thats enough, ” Steve stood hands on the counter, “we need to figure out whatever is going on here,” everyone looked away blushing as he crossed his arms, Captain America voice in full effect. “For goodness sake, I’m going to speak to Bruce.”

Steve stormed out and a rush of air moved across the island as everyone breathed out. Wanda let out an awkward laugh, head down so she wouldn't catch the eye of her teammates and left the room.

After that incredibly awkward breakfast you began to pull away from the more open group spaces and started to spend a lot of time in the lab with Bruce while he tried to synthesise your medication. The small unlabeled tube of pills one of Stark’s assistants had packed for you was now empty. But all Bruce had been able to discover was a heavy sedative.

“You shouldn’t have even been able to walk around taking something that strong." He took his glasses off to rub a hand over his face, the fatigue of a sleepless night of experiments catching up to him, "you feel okay now?”

“Yeah”

“But you’re an inch taller than yesterday you said?”

“I’m an inch taller than I was this morning.”

Bruce rubbed his hand on his face, dangling his glasses from the other hand.

“Okay, walk me through what happened again”

“So I sat next to Captain Rodgers and Sergeant Barnes in the kitchen and when I stood up I was an inch taller, I could tell because my jeans were too short.”

“That’s not how growing works,” Bruce took a seat beside you and huffed out a breath.

“I know that I’m not doing it on purpose”

For the last few days you had been slowly growing the trait of anyone you were in close contact with. It was unnerving everyone, looking up and seeing their eyes glowing back, or their hair colour tinged in highlights around your face. But worse still was that there was no clear explanation, none that you could or would give.

It wasn’t the only change the team had noticed. Wanda, Nat, Sam, Steve and Bucky spent the most time together and they had all spent the most time alone together with you. But after only a few days they refused to even enter a room if you were there, prefering to skirt around the edges or take a different route.

They couldn’t forget the night when they played spin the bottle, in fact they had thrown away all the beer of the same brand and there had been no more team evenings suggested.

When you were alone with them a tension seemed to fill in the air. Steve had shifted your training rotation so that no one was ever left alone in the gym with you. Sam admitted you’d almost kissed last time you were alone and, red faced, Wanda agreed. Natasha and Bucky had also blushed, looking at each other out of the corners of their eyes. They complained that you kept trying to make them stand next to each other, and had even locked them into a cupboard 'by accident’ while pretending that you were unable to find the key until Steve freed them.

You couldn’t seem to control the feeling either, a primal urge inside of you growing the longer you were without your tablets. Growling and clawing until you had to excuse yourself and take a handful of the sleeping pills Bruce had given you.

Wanda admitted, as you escaped the building tension for the last time, that this was when her dreams were the most extreme and everyone nodded along. Their nights filled with vivid, primal scenes, moaning and panting, the touch and taste of another filling their senses.

And, though you could hear them talking about you, you could never admit that your dreams were different, that you saw yourself orchestrating their dreams like a puppet master, like a god and you’d wake in a cold sweat.

Frightened, they placed you in the medical wing, a secure room with two way mirrors, sound proofing and, most importantly, a lock. Bruce told you that it was somewhere safe, where you could withdraw from the medication that was dwindling in the little orange bottle. But Tony was relieved that the team could relax now without you around.

Alone, you took another sedative and rolled over in your plastic bed, under the thin sheet, and cried.

The last time the team had met someone who had so easily got inside them and changed their dynamic, they had ended up with an alien invasion. Steve was sure you weren’t in control, thinking about your embarrassment and desperation when Bucky and Natasha were locked in the cupboard, how quickly you left the room whenever the conversation became heated. He was sure, sure , you were safe, that it was just a side effect of whatever you’d been taking all these years and that given time everything would go back to normal.

Tony, however, was taking no chances.

“We need to call Thor.” He suggested as they watched you through the mirror, you were reading a book and running your finger over your lip as you concentrated. With each pass of your finger your lips changed colour, working through shades of pink and red.

“What can Thor do?” Bruce had had enough stress for one month, thank you very much, and was much happier handing out medication until they could find somewhere else to send you. All he needed to do was refine some samples and he’d be able to remake your medication and then he could give Fury the go ahead to have you moved.

“He can bring Loki,” Tony said, jumping up to sit on the tall lab counter and tossing a few blueberries into his mouth.

Bruce looked over at him, one eyebrow raised. “Is that a good idea? The man’s mad.”

“I don’t want to see him anymore than you do. But they could help us figure out if this is magic like them, or a mutation, or if…it’s something else. Then you can pack her off to whichever medical facility you think is appropriate.” Tony waved his hand around in the air as if to demonstrate the unknown fears they all shared. “She shape shifts, Bruce. Loki can do that. And the manipulating thoughts and feelings? Maybe she can learn to control it. We need her to control herself and maybe, maybe , if we’re nice enough, she’ll want to help us too.”

“Do we really want Loki to teach her that, how do we know we can trust him?” Bruce cringed, thinking of the havoc the man had wrought, even if he was being manipulated. Loki was powerful, who knew what he could achieve with a little planning.

“Thor can help keep him in line,” Tony seemed confident and although his confidence was often catching, Bruce still felt the deep simmer of apprehension sitting low in his gut.

“At least we’re not fighting like last time,” Bruce sighed heavily, the memory of his last encounter with Loki still fresh in his mind.

“No, but the sexual tension is killing me. We need to end this.” Tony laughed, thinking back to the red faces of his colleagues and their lack of enthusiasm when he suggested they get drunk and play spin the bottle again.

“Okay, fine, Tony, you win. Call Thor.” Bruce sighed, leaning forward onto the counter and resting his head in his hands.

“And Loki?”

“And Loki."

<;< Masterlist

Part 2>>

#Loki #loki laufeyson #Loki Odinson #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki marvel #Loki/Reader #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki/You #Loki/female reader #Loki series #The Old Gods and The New

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mika-no-sekai-blog · 1 month

Text

Word count: 1800+

Warnings: confusion, jealousy (just in case), but otherwise nothing

Part XIII | Part XV

You opened your eyes. The memories of your childhood that Rhysand revived, swirled in your mind. You were on the verge of tears. Parents. Their faces shone bright in your mind. Beautiful, smiling. How could you forget them? And your older brother, ever so loving, caring and protective. His two best friends. Morrigan. Your friends in camps. And so many others. How could you forget them all?

Old feelings mingled with your current ones. It was a bit overwhelming and confusing. You would definitely need time to process the chaos in your head and heart. You should have stopped him sooner, but once you saw fragments of your past, you wanted more.

Big, warm hand squeezed your right one, drawing small circles with a thumb. You looked in that direction. Azriel was kneeling next to you, his eyes scanning your face with worry. You knew him. You knew him for so long. The comfort and peace you felt with him before, doubled. He was always your support, understanding your feelings more than anyone else.

He was worried about you, so you sent him a small smile, assuring him you are okay. Tension in his face melted away, his eyes watered. Even without words he understood. As always.

You turned to your left where you felt another hand holding yours, but the squeeze was much weaker. Rhysand was half sitting, half lying, his side pressed into backrest of sofa, eyes closed. He was pale. If you didn't see his chest heaved with shallow breaths, you would think the worst.

"Rhys?" Your voice was shaking.

Corners of his mouth lifted in a faint smile. "It's the first time you called me Rhys since you came."

"Oh, you jerk." You playfully hit his shoulder and then hugged him. He returned the hug without hesitation. "I'm so sorry," you mumbled into his shoulder. "You should have said something."

"There's nothing to apologize for. I am sorry for all you had to go through. Before and especially since you came here. I know it wasn't easy for you."

You didn't say anything to that mainly because your feelings were all out of place.

"Are you okay?"

"Mm, just bit tired. It was harder than I thought."

"Why didn't you say something? We could-"

"It's okay," he stopped you. "I just need to rest. That's all. And you ought to do so too. I bet you have a lot to think about." He rubbed your back.

You were about to offer him helping to get to his room, but he stopped you before you could open your mouth with shake of his head. "Rest. We will talk about everything later."

Gnawing your lower lip you nodded and stood up. Azriel also got up, following you out of the office, silent like a shadow. Once doors closed behind you, you turned to him.

"I'm fine, Az. Really."

"I'll just walk you to your room."

"I can do that," you smiled. "But I'd love to ask you to take care of him. I think he's more exhausted than he admits." Your gaze travelled back to the office doors.

"Okay," he nodded, looking at you curiously. "Now you really remember." Small amused smile played on his lips, but his eyes were full of sadness and something you couldn't place.

You stepped closer, surprising Azriel with an innocent kiss on his cheek. His body went rigid, eyes widened. This was a game you two used to play, when you were younger, always catching him by surprise. Knowing you since you were born, he usually let his guard down around you, which allowed you to get into his personal space easily. You also learnt a few tricks from him.

"I do," you hummed. His fingers touched the place you kissed and he blushed fiercely. Chuckling you turned around and walked away, leaving him gaping at your back.

You'd turned the corner walking to the main hall towards the staircase.

"I don't understand what he sees in you," a sweet voice spoke from your right. There in the doors to the kitchen stood one of Feyre's sisters, Elain, if you remembered correctly.

"Excuse me?" you raised a brow at her, surprised that she spoke to you.

"Since you came everything is only about you," she said, her brows furrowed. "He also has eyes only for you. Even now, why did he have to be by your side?"

"I have no idea what are you talking about. Who's the he supposed to be anyway?" You'd never talked with her, actually hadn't met her properly until now. But you didn't like the way she looked at you.

Elain looked at you with utter disgust and then just simply pivoted, showing you her back and walked away. Stunned you blinked rapidly. You looked around hoping somebody else witnessed this and could explain you her behaviour. Unfortunately you were alone.

"…bitch…" You heard her low voice as she was muttering something in the kitchen.

Frustrated you returned to your room, decided to forget about that weird incident in the hall and rather concentrate on processing all new feelings.

You took a seat in one of the armchairs you became so fond of and gazing out to the garden you slowly roamed through new memories. It felt like finding pieces of puzzle you didn't realise that were missing. The emptiness you had always felt diminished.

It was hard to say how you felt, what you felt toward people who in few hours changed from strangers to well known faces, family. However you knew for sure that the feelings from before living in Spring Court, weren't so intensive anymore. They were still strong, but strangely subdued at the same time. It was confusing and you could only hope that with time it would clear out.

You didn't know when, but your thoughts wandered back to the cottage. And to him. What was he doing now? Did he already forget about you? Suddenly you felt blue. You'd like to talk with him now. It would certainly help you to sort out the things. You reached for the pendant he gave you, hidden under the clothes. It gave you a feeling of the kind of comfort you felt only with him.

Behind shut eyelids you found yourself back in the forest in front of your cottage, Tamlin stood on the threshold, his back to you. As if feeling your presence, he turned around and when his eyes found yours he smiled happily. Tamlin's emerald eyes and golden hair shone in the sunlight filtering through the treetops. It was so peaceful moment. The moment that was interrupted by a knock on the door.

You exhaled shakily, your heart beating too fast. What was that? It was so real that your chest hurt. You rubbed a non-existent wound and when another soft knock sounded, you called out to whoever it was, to enter. Golden brown head peeked in from behind the door. It was Feyre.

"Can I come in? I brought you something to eat."

You nodded, grateful for her care.

"You missed the lunch, so I thought you might be hungry," she said placing tray on a small table. She looked somehow nervous, eyeing the other armchair. You hadn't talked much with your sister-in-law yet, but she seemed to be a kind person. You asked her to sit down with you. The smile she conjured, was dazzling.

"I just wanted to let you know that Rhys is okay or better say, he will be. Azriel helped him to get to the bed, he ate and now he's napping."

"I'm relieved to hear that," you said and to your own surprise, really meant it. Rhysand was your brother, your blood. He mattered. Words that held no meaning yesterday, were so important now. You pushed those thoughts back before you began spiralling and rather focused on Feyre.

"I'm happy you are here," she whispered. "He needed you. Even though he has all of us, he needed you. He might not admit it openly, but since the tragedy that happened to your mother and you, he wished only for one thing: to have both of you back by his side. He was so lonely."

A lump rose in your throat. You were at a loss for words.

Feyre was nervously playing with her fingers. "I understand how he feels and what this means to him, but.. I noticed that you were.. well, you still are unhappy here. It reminds me of how I felt back at Spring.. I tried to convince him to let you go back. Don't take me wrong. I like you and I'd love you to be here, but if this isn't the place you want to be.."

"But he rejected," you noted, swallowing bitterness in your mouth. Feyre nodded.

"Please, don't be angry with him for that. He believes this is the only way how to protect you."

"Are you angry with Tamlin for doing the same?" You eyed her curiously.

She looked into the garden, her gaze wandered unfocused. "At that time I was angry, very angry. Now I kind of understand. It was his way of dealing with his trauma. He was so kind to me before and even to my family. What happened under the mountain broke us all. And what helped one, hurt someone else. Now seeing into Rhys' heart I do understand how Tamlin felt. I hope he will find his happiness, too." Even though Feyre just whispered the last sentence, she meant it.

Now it was your turn to answer, but you couldn't do so right away. Searching how you actually felt about that, your fingers once again found the pendant, playing with it. "I'm not angry," you said after a while. "Now when I have part of my memories back, I think I understand, too."

"But you still want to return," Feyre finished for you. "To him." A gentle smile spread across her face as she watched your fingers. You nodded.

"Do you like him?"

Your eyes widened. For some reason you were embarrassed. Like Tamlin? Yes, you liked him, but Feyre was probably referring to different kind of 'like'. "I- I like his company," you stuttered.

She giggled. "You can be honest with me. It'll remain just between us. I won't tell anyone."

You pulled your knees up to your chest, distressed. Feyre watched you curiously, head tilted to the side, a knowing grin on her face. "He's a good male and very kind. Lucien said that your presence helped him recover."

"The redhead?" you sat up straight. She nodded. So he wasn't lying when he said they were friends.

Feyre pressed her lips together, light amusement was replaced by seriousness. "Although I'm afraid of what happened with him after your abrupt departure."

After that Feyre left, muttering something about food getting cold and necessary rest, leaving you even more confused and on top of it worried.

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt

#tamlin fanfiction #tamlin x reader #tamlin acotar #tamlin #pro tamlin #english isnt my first language #acotar fanfiction #acotar #rhysand #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #feyre archeron #elain archeron #sarah j maas

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vioartemis · 1 year

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Jealous

(Ghostface! Sam Carpenter x fem! reader)

Summary: Sam gets jealous and killed a girl that flirted with you. You catch her, and things turn heated very quickly Warnings: (+18), smut, strap-on sex, top! Sam, blood, Sam kills someone a/n: let's say that Richie wasn't Sam's boyfriend during the 2022 massacre (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

Sam and you had been dating for over two years now, and she was a perfect girlfriend. Sweet, caring, maybe a little overprotective sometimes but you could understand why.

But there was that side of her that you never saw. She was jealous, and possessive. Not just a little like everybody. No. It was far more intense than that.

The simple thought of someone else touching you - or wanting to - made her see red. She had to hold back every time someone looked at you a little too long. Fortunately, it always worked.

Until today.

You had been invited to a party by one of your classmates. Sam didn't trust the girl, she saw how she looked at you. And she was right.

As soon as your girlfriend left to go to the bathroom, Bella came to you.

"Hey beautiful, how's the party?" she asked, putting her hand on your arm

"It's cool, thanks for inviting me"

"Anytime" she smiled "I'd invite you everyday if I could" she added, trailing her fingers up your arm "Why don't we go upstairs, huh? I have some good stuff in my room"

"I'm gonna have to pass. I have a girlfriend"

"She doesn't need to know. C'mon, it'll be quick, she will not even notice-"

"She told you she had a girlfriend. Now back the fuck off." Sam intervened, spawning right behind you, glaring daggers at the other girl

The girl must have been scared because she complied without complaining and almost ran away.

Sam wrapped a possessive arm around your waist, holding you close.

"This bitch" she mumbled

"Thank you for helping me out" you said, turning around to face her and wrap your arms around her "You're kinda hot when you're jealous y'know?" you kissed her tenderly "can we go home? I don't really want to stay anymore..."

"Of course baby, we're going home"

Maybe two hours after you got back home, Sam told you she was going to her therapy session and went out. You were alone in the appartement, Tara being with her friends. You looked up for your bag, the one you brought to Bella's party, in which you had put your phone, but couldn't find it.

"Shit..." you whispered as you remembered you left it at her house

You had no other choice than go back there and get it. You weren't going to leave your phone there.

You put your shoes on, and quickly went back to the girl's house.

When you arrived, the party was over, and everything was silent. You entered quietly, not sure you were allowed to do that.

You made your way to the living room, looking for your bag, when a noise coming from the kitchen draw your attention. Without even thinking about it, you started walking towards the noise.

When you entered the room, you saw Bella lying on the floor in a puddle of blood, someone in a black robe on top of her. You first thought it was Ghostface, but the person wasn't wearing a mask. You could see their long, dark hair.

"Sam...?"

Hearing her name, the girl turned around, eyes wide. You weren't supposed to be here. You weren't supposed to see that.

"Why did you do that...?"

She got up and walked to you, dropping the bloody knife on the floor, trying to find the good words. She couldn't find any excuse, her jealousy taking control.

"She was trying to fuck you. I'm not letting anyone touch what's mine."

You never thought she could kill someone. You should be scared of her. But you were not. You were aroused.

The look in her eyes, dark, almost animalistic, the way her muscles tensed when she stabbed the girl, the very muscles that drove you crazy since day one, the blood on her face... The fact that she killed for you...

You couldn't help the blush that appeared on your face. And she saw it. A smirk appeared on her face.

She took your chin between her thumb and index and tilted your head up so she could kiss you. She wasted no time and slipped her tongue in your mouth, deepening the kiss.

Her hands were on your hips, before sliding down to your thighs, signaling you that she wanted to lift you up. You helped her - even tho it was useless, jumping slightly and wrapping your legs around her waist.

Without breaking the kiss, she walked to the couch and knelt on it so she could make you lay on your back and be on top of you.

She then pulled away, only to dip down to your neck where she left hickeys and love bites in the most visible places for people to know you were hers, and hers only.

When she was satisfied with the marks she left on you, she sat up and looked at you for a second, biting her bottom lip.

She took off her black robe, leaving her in her grey tank top and jeans, jeans that were took off quickly after, revealing the black strap she was wearing.

You didn't know seeing her wearing a strap and a tank top could be that exciting. You felt yourself get wetter by the second, cheeks burning, heart racing in anticipation.

Sam took her belt from her jeans and pinned your hands over your head, tying them up with the leather band.

"If you move them I'll stop." she said, still mad from earlier.

You nodded.

She kissed your lips one more time before unbuttoning your pants, slid them down your legs and threw them somewhere in the room before taking off the last piece of clothing you had at a painfully slow pace.

"You're so wet, I don't even need lube." she smirked, looking at your dripping cunt "Who made you this wet, huh?"

"Y-you"

"Damn right I did."

Without any warning, she slid her silicone cock inside you in one swift motion, making you moan loudly.

"God, you're so tight..." she groaned

She waited a little, letting you time to ajust, before she started moving in deep, rough thrusts.

You knew it was bad, she just killed someone after all. But it felt so good.

Her smirk got wider at the moans leaving your mouth, knowing she was she only one who got to hear them.

"You like it when I fuck you like that, huh? When I fuck your pretty little pussy with my cock? Tell me, who do you belong to?"

Her movements slowed down, making you whine, frustrated tears in your eyes.

"Y-you. I belong to you Sam...! P-please 'm close..."

"That's right, you're mine. Mine to kiss, mine to love, mine to fuck." she picked up her pace again, hitting that spongy spot deep inside of you "I'm the only one who get to fuck your tight pussy. I'll kill everyone who would want to do it too."

You clenched around the faux cock at her words, your orgasm building.

"You're so pretty under me, your pretty pussy swallowing my cock like that... God, I wish I could fill you up with my cum..."

"F-fuck Sam... I- I'm gonna-"

"I know, cum for me" she cut you off, moving her thumb to rub tight circles on your clit

You moaned her name as your orgasm washed over you, back arching, legs shaking, eyes rolling back. Sam fucked you through it, only stopping her thrusts when she saw tears in your eyes from the overstimulation.

She looked at you tenderly and pulled out, eliciting a last moan from you, before kissing you softly.

"You did amazing baby. Such a good girl for me, hm?" she hummed against your lips

She stood up and put her pants back on, taking her black robe from off the floor, and started walking in the other room.

"Where are you going?" you asked, propping yourself on your elbows

"Getting tissues and bleach"

"For what?"

"Cleaning the mess you made on the couch" she replied with a smirk before disappearing in the kitchen "I wouldn't want the police to find you DNA on a crime scene"

You looked down at the couch below you and couldn't help but blush at the sight of your dripping pussy soaking the piece of furniture. You got up, looking for your underwear and pants before putting them back on.

Sam came back with bleach and handed you a sponge.

"What do I have to do this?"

"It's your mess baby, you clean it"

"But it's your fault if I made a mess"

"The faster it disappear, the faster we can go home and continue that properly"

She had a proud smirk, knowing you couldn't say no.

"... Okay give me the bleach"

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x fem reader #sam carpenter smut #scream

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flanaganfilm · 1 year

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I tend to get obsessed with scenes where actors have a particularly outstanding performance. I find myself revisiting them over and over again just to relive the moment. Several examples of this, but one that I just love is in Midnight Mass when Kate and Zach are on the rowboat. What's it like experiencing that live, during production? Are you aware in the moment of how special it is or does that become more evident in post? Love to hear any and all details behind the scenes of how those get made. Also curious what scenes from your favorite movies/TV standout as particularly compelling performances by the actors.

This scene is a strange one, because it was the first thing we shot of the whole series. We had been shut down since March 2020 when the initial COVID lockdown hit, and were the first show in North America to go back into production that summer. We didn't know how to do that, and were juggling constantly evolving safety protocols as we tried to figure out how to shoot in this new world. Because a lot of our sets weren't ready to shoot when we came back, we opted to start easy - on our stages, with blue screen work. The boat scene is shot entirely on blue screen, we didn't even have water - the boat was gently rocked back and forth by grips. Kate and Zach were asked to do this huge, heavy, insanely difficult and emotional scene ON OUR FIRST DAY. I had asked them a few weeks prior if they'd be okay with that, as I was worried - they hadn't built their characters yet. They hadn't put a single scene down to draw from. But both said they'd do it, and so we threw them into the deep end.

(That's DP Michael Fimognari in the boat, trying to adjust lighting through his goggles) It was a VERY weird day. We were all wearing KN95 masks and goggles, the actors had to wear full masks and face shields when we weren't rolling. It was absolutely surreal and just about impossible for anyone to get into any headspace that felt like we were doing scene work. I had been fitted with modified motorcycle goggles, as I needed eye protection to be near the actors (it was all more than a bit ridiculous.) There was a ladder on set - you can see it behind Michael in the picture above - and I started the day by climbing it to address the cast and crew. About ten words into my speech, my goggles completely fogged up and I couldn't see anymore. I had to be helped down the ladder by several grips. I remember the first rehearsal was insane because the actors weren't allowed to take off their masks, per Netflix safety protocols. I was also required to wear my mask and goggles throughout, so giving direction to actors who couldn't see my face was a brand new and deeply strange thing (I'd continue to work this way for the next two years, we all got used to it, but this first day was fucking WEIRD). Kate and Zach couldn't even really hear each other through the masks to rehearse, as it was such a quiet and intimate scene. I was standing a few feet away and couldn't hear a damn thing. It was additionally weird because all of the elements of the scene outside of the boat wouldn't be added for many, many months as we got into VFX. There was no water, no stars, nothing at all to look at but hanging blue curtains and masked crew members. I don't know how Kate and Zach were able to put all of that aside and deliver the performances they delivered - oh wait, I suppose I do know. It's because they are exceptional actors. Kate later told me she was so outside of her comfort zone that she had to just dive in and trust every single thing around her. The scenes in the boat ultimately came together beautifully, but I did apologize to both of them later in the shoot. It wasn't fair that we asked them to do that, to start like that, without letting them build any foundation. But both waved it off. Production is chaos, and that particular production was the very first out the gate with COVID, so everything was crazy. They took all of that vulnerability and uncertainty and discomfort and fear and turned it into a handful of scenes that roar with honesty. It's among my favorite moments in what may always be my favorite Intrepid series.

#midnight mass #kate siegel #zach gilford #covid protocol

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sunxstreaker · 6 months

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i don't really get simpatico but i would love to understand it more bc its such a big part of transformers now. if you're willing, you can do that big post on simpatico here?? if you wanna??? i'd really appreciate the help 🥺👉👈

The thing with Simpatico is that i didn't exactly Get it at first too, most of my exposure was through fan content and reading the thing i was just Yeah it Makes Sense people ship this, but then it kind of bestowed on me more how these two people are just two parts fitting together perfectly in a way they wouldn't with others, and it's not even inherently Romantic to me, even if i see them as very much in love and conjunxed post MTMTE/LL story.

Their relationship is quite silly in the context at first. Brainstorm's profile calls him a conflicted Perceptor fanboy. The only thing we get, up to this point, is his Annoyance with how his genius is overshadowed by Perceptor. While Perceptor doesn't seem to give him his time of day at all, more concerned with his work and what Rodimus wants from him than what Brainstorm is up to.

It's honestly just my personal interpretation of either characters, but Perceptor is finally allowed to fullly get back to science again, he's not expected to be holding his sniper rifle (even though he was never expected to! He had himself believe that holding a weapon will make him of more value!), while Brainstorm is there with his own super secret super important agenda.

Brainstorm is, apparently, an MTO, while we don't know what for, but MTOs have a very sad track record and usually have a lot of baggage as they're usually "born" and then kicked into the heat of battle, barely having any chance to learn who they are, just what they're for. Yet Brainstorm has never killed anyone - and despite that, he's still LIED about being an MTO.

Here they're talking about the concept of Constructed Cold, but there were TWO waves of them - pre-war and post-war. What Brainstorm is talking about he was not even born to witness yet.

They're both people who, one way or the other, "defying" what they are. It's a common theme with tf ships for me, but in case with this, it's Perceptor believing that he has to be more, and at the point of MTMTE, perhaps, not feeling entirely whole, and Brainstorm WANTING to be someone He actually Wants to Be.

Brainstorm feels threatened when his intellect is belittled by people calling Perceptor the genius. Brainstorm is quite egotistical and selfish, but it all ends up being just a facade, just as much Perceptor's cold and perfect exterior he cultivated throughout years during the war, of someone he thought his side needed.

Up until Brainstorm's time travel shenanigans, we saw them interacting sometimes, and a lot of the time, it was Brainstorm trying to impress Perceptor somehow, or just being himself that draws attention of Percy nevertheless.

And then we see Percy smiling the most he's ever smiled throughout the comic, calling Brainstorm a genius himself, impressed by the intricate work of Brainstorm.

Perceptor gets up to clap for Brainstorm at his trial, and i think it's the moment that sold Perceptor for his respect to Brainstorm. Everything he ever knew about Brainstorm - the careless egotistical and cowardly scientist - turned out to be nothing but means to an end, making way to a dedicated, caring, kind and brilliant person into his mind.

I think their finale just says it all regarding these two, honestly.

"I always wanted recognition for what I am."

"Me too."

Brainstorm spent his life on science and to be recognized. He didn't hide the fact he's an MTO just because. He wants to be seen for his achievements. Perceptor's war trauma had him feel useless to his comrades, who's "purpose", who's Genius, was ultimately the thing people saw in him, brushing off his personal achievements, maybe even the fact he could be more, his person, the way he feels Brainstorm could understand, too.

They're simpatico for a reason, and its just one of them, but pretty crucial and at the very core of why they're so compatible.

While i understand simply thinking of them as "science duo" they're so so much more than that.

#deadlysoupy #ko tf posting #I'd get more into each of them individually but i spent almost three hours skimming through the comic for pages #the whole thing with brainstorm and thr reasons of his time travel #then perceptor being among the mutineers #perceptor with the wreckers #its all worth talking about. but not tonight #so i focused on their interactions here first and foremost

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wolvesofinnistrad · 21 days

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Read on Ao3 Here.

Its been about 6 months.

6 of the best months of a relationship Buck has ever had. And its not even about it being a guy, discovering his bisexuality. Its just... Tommy.

Hes great in so many ways, and the dynamic is so different that for the first time Buck has been able to relax, not always feel like hes chasing after someone. Actually, hes found out he quite likes being the one that gets chased, romanced, flirted with.

Everything is going great and hes even, in the back of his mind, been starting to think this might be it, this might be a long term thing after all which he'd have never expected. And then Eddie fucks it all up by telling him his most recent girlfriend, Beatrice or something Buck honestly hasn't kept track lately, broke up with him because quote "i can never have a place in your life when you've got Buck so entrenched in it."

Hes never had anyone imply that his and Eddies friendship, the little family hes made with Eddie and Chris, is somehow wrong or off-putting. Eddie was more annoyed than anything and didn't seem to care. But Buck... Buck got worried. Not because he cared about what Betty or whatever thought, but because he wondered if it wasn't true. If maybe their dynamic would scare people off eventually, and did that mean it would scare Tommy off as well?

So that's how hes sitting here, curled under a blanket on the couch, a new sectional he bought because Tommy's back didn't get enough support in the last one, spilling his guts to his boyfriend. When hes done he looks up at Tommy, expecting, well, something. Anger, confusion, heartbreak, but... Its not there. Tommy smiles at him, placing a hand on his leg over the blanket. "Evan... i understand how important Eddie and Chris are to you. I would never make you choose. I would never try to cut them out or deny you that."

Buck takes that in sits with it for a moment but finds it doesn't fully alleviate his concerns.

"But what if... i mean, if were together, you know, for the long haul. It wont affect you? What i have with them?"

Tommy smiles, he looks away for a minute and laughs.

"Can i be really honest with you Evan?" He says, meeting his eyes now.

Buck nods.

Tommy inches closer, drawing up one of his legs beneath him. "When we first started dating i knew you all were close, but i didn't really understand until later that you were a 'family.'" He pauses, thinks. "But when i did, yeah, there was a moment i was a little worried where i fit in. Where there was space for me in your life. And then i had an idea, and once i wrapped my head around it that way, re-conceptualized how i looked at things, it didn't scare me anymore."

Now that's surprising to hear, Buck wants to know what could have so easily changed his mind. "And what was it that made you not worry then?"

Again Tommy laughs. "I started thinking of Eddie like he was your ex husband."

Bucks eyes bug out a bit. "My what?!"

Tommy shrugs. "It was easier in my head than just saying your best friend who you're co-parenting with. I've dated guys with kids, with exes before. It wasn't a stretch to think of it like Eddie was your ex and Chris was your kid from another relationship. Once i put it in my head like that, i didn't worry about whether we could have a life together. You'll always be tied to them, but it didn't mean you couldn't have a life with me to." He reached over and took Bucks hand, squeezed it tight. "And honestly Evan? I'm starting to think I'd like that. A life with you."

Despite how weird it is to think of his little family with Eddie and Chris that way, how Tommy sees it, there's something relief and happiness coursing through him. Knowing that Tommy's already figured out how he can keep some of the most important people in his life and incorporate them into a new life hes building for himself. For him and Tommy.

"Evan?" Tommy asks, scootching closer on the couch, their knees knocking together.

Buck realizes its been too long since he's said anything, but when he speaks he simply says "move in with me."

For all of a second Tommy looks shocked, then elated, then seemingly guarded. "Evan... You don't have to lock me down or something i just exp-"

Buck cuts him off, "its not that. Trust me, I've done that before. Held on so tight, clung because i was scared of being left behind. This isn't that. This is..." he stops, lets his mind and body calm enough to get this right. "This is me holding on because I don't want to let go. Because i want to stay, right here, with you. I'm not scared of being left anymore, I'm scared of not putting down roots. Of not letting the best boyfriend I've ever had,"

"Only," Tommy interjects.

"Best," Buck reiterates, gripping his hand tighter, boyfriend I've ever had know that i want this. I want him. I want a life with you too. And hearing that i think, it was just the final thing falling into place, the last weight weighing on me. I... I've been thinking of asking you for a while, but i wanted so bad to get it right this time. And i think i am, but Tommy." He looks into his eyes. "Tommy you're the first time I've felt like if i got it wrong it would still be okay, we could make it work anyway. So move in with me. Please. Or.. heck, we could get a place of our own if you like?"

Tommy kisses him then. Its slow and passionate but all consuming. Its like nothing hes ever had before. And it feels so right. For once it feels Right.

A week later Tommy sends him a photo of a house for rent. Rent to own actually.

"Wheres that at?" He asks, because its a nice place, he can see the potential.

"Its literally a block away from Eddie's house, I saw it as I was driving away." He says, and Buck can almost hear the laugh and smug smile miles away.

"Its perfect." He writes back. But what he means is, 'you're perfect.'

#bucktommy #kinkley #evan buck buckley #evan buckley #tommy kinard #this is a bucktommy endgame fic dont hate me but im into them rn #my fic #fanfiction

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genericpuff · 4 months

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This is stupid, but you know those new LO hoodies the Webtoon shop has? I know the font they're using. It's Eckmannpsych which is an Adobe font.

That's not the stupid part though. The dumb part is the capital H and G in the Eckmannpsych font do not match what is on the hoodies, which would obviously be on the hoodies that have Hera or Goddess on them. So, Rachel looks to have taken the time to hand draw her own H and G to match the font style for those hoodies but did not take any time to make new, better art for the merch, but instead reused ugly panels from the comic. Talk about a strange look into her priorities. She doesn't like how the G and H look on a font? She will remake those to fit what she wants. Rachel when the assignment gives her the chance to make specialized, better designs for those same merch? She can't be bothered to even try. WTF!

for the love of god-

I'm assuming and hoping they had the commercial rights to that font LMAOO But it did kind of make me go 🤨 because while I didn't know the font EXACTLY off the top of my head it still felt... weirdly out of place for something like LO? Why are these hoodies being stylized like they're from Austin Powers LOL

On another note tho, the LO merch is just like... disappointing in how bad it is for what's supposed to be WT's #1 series, which is, btw, a series with so much unique stylization that it shouldn't even be this hard to make merch for it! it just feels very "first attempt at redbubble merch", but unlike genuine first attempts at making merch (which is obviously a learning curve that I wouldn't judge anyone for being new to) this is a company that's sunk shitloads of money into LO so I don't know why they can't get better merch made?? so much of it is just the default drawings taken and slapped onto a tote bag or t-shirt, which like, yeah cool fine you're using art that's recognizable and considering the art is already made, it stands to reason that they should use it for more than just the comic. It's just disappointing to see how lazy it often is and how little effort is put into translating it onto a t-shirt/tote bag/etc. like we can't even have ONE exclusive t-shirt with a unique design that isn't just poorly copy pasted from the comic?

Case in point, those t-shirts that Rachel was advertising a while ago that were actually straight up falsely advertised. I can't find the post about it on my Tumblr (I'm pretty sure I talked about it here) so here's the IG story rundown I did on it ages ago:

Again I'd really like to have benefit of the doubt here that Rachel isn't the one making these designs, usually that's not how the merchandising process goes in these types of deals, so I'm not gonna point the finger at her. But it's just so odd to me that it happened in the first place. And this goes for a lot of LO's merch, so much of it feels cheaply made and rushed off a conveyor belt for the point of making money without much expense. Which yeah, that's a business model for sure, the goal is to profit, but like this?

You can't even argue that it's like people criticizing LO the comic because like, as much as I'll justify what I spend my time doing here in my free time, it's true that at the end of the day I don't have to pay for LO, so really the only thing I'm doing is inflicting psychic damage to myself, it's not like my actual money is on the line LMAO That's why I stopped paying for LO ages ago and only do it when I have a specific episode I need to review (such as the midseason hiatus review series I did). At the very least, if I really want to keep reading LO but don't want to pay for it, I can just avoid FastPassing it and read it for free so I can save the coins for other series I'd rather read. The Webtoons' FP system is very fair that way.

But this is merch explicitly made to generate revenue. It is a product, front to back. You can vote with your money by not buying the thing you don't like, absolutely, but the fact that it's this poorly to begin with is just so indicative of Webtoons' business practices and so shitty for the people who genuinely enjoy this comic and are being advertised and sold shoddy merchandise that doesn't even come looking the same way it's advertised. It's really not a good look for Webtoons, Rachel, or LO that this is what they're selling to people.

Especially for what they're charging, good lord-

Like, okay, they're hoodies and they're gonna be expensive to print and ship so the higher overhead cost makes sense, but jesus christ, with the kind of merch Webtoons has already given the stamp of approval on, would it even show up in decent condition? How bright are those colors gonna be? Are they gonna strip off as soon as I throw it in the wash? I'm half-tempted to buy a hoodie for myself just to do a review on it but I can't justify dropping $75 CAD on a hoodie that only has art on the back. Maybe it's just me living in the hellish lands of Canada where we play with toy money that's the problem, but it's just not a gamble I wanna take LOL If I bought one it would probably be the Hecate or Hermes ones because they're the only ones that are at least somewhat legible and have decent character art that isn't a character looking like they need to poop LMAO

(these are literally the two worst drawings they could have chosen of these two i stg lol the only thing that would have made this worse/funnier is if it was Handsome Hades and Persephone Kidnapping a Baby LMAO)

It has me worried about what the LO figures are gonna look like when they release. Are they gonna have some creative liberty with making them chibi-fied (like a Nendoroid?) or are they gonna try and replicate the art style exactly and wind up making literal blow-up sex doll Persephone? 😭

NGL, if the figures are done well enough and don't cost an arm and a leg, I might consider buying one just for the shelf collection, but again, it depends. If Webtoons released a tarot deck with really good panels from LO (like the Tower 4 scene or Persephone sitting on the rooftop with her comb or Eros flying down into the Mortal Realm) I would buy the shit out of that. I would even just take the Major Arcana if 78 cards was too much to ask :'0 I'm not against Webtoons/Rachel trying to profit off LO merch at all, I just wish it was BETTER- (╥﹏╥)

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus #ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything

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acetone4veins · 29 days

Text

Quotes + Mean Girls

associating angsty quotes (and some fluffy ones) to mean girls characters and dynamics, this is definitely longer than it should be and will probably be part 1 of many but anyways. lmk which were your favorites and which ones ruined you :) also shoutout to the cautionary tale discord who saw some of these already and ramble about these characters with me <3

posting under the cut so i don't clog anyone's feeds

Regina

"what a terrible thing to wound someone you really care for - and to do it so unconsciously."

Haruki Murakami

"and when nobody wakes you up in the morning, and when nobody waits for you at night, and when you can do whatever you want. what do you call it, freedom or loneliness?"

Charles Bukowski

"i am changing. i am trying to be better. it is slow; it is rough; it is repetitive, but i swear i am."

Abdulsamad S. M.

"i did not like to be touched, but it was a strange dislike. i did not like to be touched because i craved it too much. i wanted to be held very tight so i would not break."

Marya Hornbacher

"i was not a loveable child, and i'd grown into a deeply unlovable adult. draw a picture of my soul, and it'd be a scribble with fangs."

Gillian Flynn

"if only my heart were as cold as i pretend it is, maybe i could get over this."

Jessica Katoff

"i wasn't beautiful anymore. now i looked like what i was, a raw wound."

Janet Fitch

"i'm restless and harsh and despairing. although i do have love inside me. i just don't know how to use love. sometimes it tears at my flesh, like barbs."

Clarice Lispector

"i did not mean to be cruel. i swear i am good, i am good, i am kind. i have love inside me. some place far far away."

unknown

Cady

"how much can you change and get away with it, before you turn into someone else, before its some kind of murder?"

Richard Siken

"your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing."

Dyodor Dosteovsky

"what and how much had i lost by trying to do only what was expected of me instead of what i myself wished to do?"

Ralph Ellison

"my god, my god, whose performance am i watching? how many people am i? who am i? what is this space between myself and myself?"

Fernando Pessoa

"it was good for a while, being empty. i didn't hurt anymore. but as time went on, it was like i could hear myself from far away, begging for permission to come back."

Myra McEntire

"is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?"

Friedrich Nietzsche

"who's the real you? the person who did something awful, or the one who's horrified by the awful thing you did? is one part of you allowed to forgive the other?"

Rebecca Stead

"you're a mess of good intentions gone wrong. you strike a match on yourself to keep others warm, and now the whole goddamn world's on fire. you try to put it out, and you try so hard. the dam breaks, and the waters of your sorrow pour free. you are sorry; so very, very sorrow - and you will drown everyone to prove it."

unknown

Janis

"there are times when i am convinced i am unfit for any human relationship."

Franz Kafka

"i am eternally, devastatingly romantic, and i thought people would see it because 'romantic' doesn't mean 'sugary'. it's dark and tormented - the furor of passion, the despair of an idealism that you cannot attain."

Catherine Breillat

"but whatever came, she had resolved never again to belong to another than herself."

Kate Chopin

"there were two reasons i was scared to let people in; the damage they could do, and the damage they could find."

Chris McGeown

"perhaps its good for one to suffer. can an artist do anything if he's happy? would he ever want to do anything? what is art, after all, but a protest against the horrible inclemency of life?"

Aldous Huxley

Gretchen

"i want so obviously, so desperately to be loved, and to be capable of love."

Sylvia Plath

"she wanted to say 'don't leave me', but she couldn't do it, not again. she was so tired of begging people to love her."

Kristin Hannah

"he is charmingly telling me how much he does not love me...and i, - listening to him carefully, - am approving it."

Marina Tsvetaeva

"she's gonna forever say 'i got this' even with tears in her eyes."

unknown

"still there is this terrible desire to be loved. still, there is this horror at being left behind."

Michael Cunningham

"can you understand me? someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little?"

Sylvia Plath

"i am trying to make myself digestible. i am trying to make myself easy to love."

I.B. Vyache

"do you think it is possible that some people are born to give more love than they will ever get back in return?"

Tyler Knott Gregson

Karen

"the sensitive suffer more; but they love more, and dream more."

Augusto Cury

"a lot of people tell me i'm a bit dreamy. but i like the idea of that. of being somewhere else."

Alam

"you cannot make everyone think and feel as deeply as you do. this is your tragedy, because you understand them but they do not understand you."

Daniel Saint

Regina and Janis

"the bear loved the deer, it was obvious. it ripped the deer's throat out, and then licked the dying deer with the most passionate affection. i thought of you and me."

David Cronenberg

"can you hate someone for what they have done, but still love them for whom they had been?"

Jodi Picoult

"love isn't soft, like those poets say. love has teeth which bite and the wounds never close."

Stephen King

"i love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul."

Pablo Neruda

"they will hook me up to a polygraph and ask me if i love you and i will say no but the needle will jump and sputter exactly how you laugh."

unknown

"there's a sickening feeling of familiarity, when the wrong person knows you too well and you know them too well. and they weren't always the wrong person."

unknown

"we don't mean to hurt each other, but we do. and perhaps no matter how right we are for each other, we'll always be a little wrong."

Beau Taplin

Regina and Cady

"i am intense darkness and you are a golden sunrise."

Arijit Singh and Pritam

"even before you touched me, i belonged to you; all you had to do was look at me."

unknown

"whether you come as a lover or an executioner, i am ready to receive you."

Agustin Gomez-Arcos

"for the longest time, i saw myself as a bad person. you don't know how much it meant to me when you looked at me and could see the good."

unknown

"but i have seen the best of you and the worst of you, and i choose both."

Sarah Kay

"i promised myself i would never fall in love with you. but it was 4 am, and we were laughing way too hard, and i felt happy for the first time in a long time, and i knew i was screwed."

unknown

Gretchen and Karen

"i would rather be with you - even the you that you seem to think is diminished - than with anyone else in the world."

Jojo Moyes

"it hurts, he realizes, to love someone who can't love themselves. like watching a work of art set itself on fire."

unknown

"how amazing it is to find someone who wants to hear about all the things that go on in your head."

Nina LaCour

"come love, make me better than i was. come teach me a kinder way to say my own name."

Andrea Gibson

"i wanted you to see a mess and still find me worthy of love, to tell me that you could still love me anyway."

Georges Bataille

"sometimes, love is as simple as watching the moon and sometimes its as difficult as counting the stars. but i love doing both for you."

unknown

Janis and Damian

"you may be born into a family, but you walk into friendships. some you'll discover you should put behind you. others are worth every risk."

Adam Silvera

Regina and Gretchen

"but i am very homesick for arms that have never held me."

unknown

"i burned so long so quiet you must have wondered if i loved you back. i did, i did, i do."

Annelyse Gelman

"so i wait for you like a lonely house till you will see me again and live in me. till then my windows ache."

Pablo Neruda

"how do you tell someone that the reason you're sad is because you love them?"

unknown

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