#they said ‘yeah I can see why you haven’t watched through the whole thing yet. there is only so much of this you can take.’
Text
I showed my friend a few episodes of the monkees (it was their idea ok they saw me drawing gwen and were like we’re watching this right now) and like. Oh my god it is literally one of the most awkward interests to share with someone who doesn’t know what to expect from it
#the monkees is like#one of those videos with a bunch of really fast meme sound effects stacked on top of each other#you know what I mean? with the vine boom and shit#but it’s for 24 minutes straight#they said ‘yeah I can see why you haven’t watched through the whole thing yet. there is only so much of this you can take.’#😞#she said to her it’s just like a bunch of theater kids fucking around doing improv. which yeah that’s actually literally what it is#they did enjoy it btw bc I made it sound like they’re criticizing it they’re not they thought it was fun#god I’m so sleep deprived. night night
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Humans have always had their finger on the trigger, they are always ready to strike, and yet they relax and are calm whenever you see them. This bi-polar like response is terrifying to many in the universe and most seem to see the humans as always ruthless and bloodthirsty, which they really are.
Morgranff: I can’t believe how ruthless a fighter that human was, did you see how it bent itself in the air to avoid that strike from the Horned Goliath?
Stencillon: Yeah, I saw it, it cost me my whole night's bets.
Morgranff: You bet against a human?
Stencillon: The Goliath was twice his size, that human didn’t stand a chance if you looked at the physics of the fight.
Morgranff: Yeah, they are often overlooked when it comes to the ridiculous agility and chaos that goes with every human.
Stencillon: Well, I also never thought that a human leg was capable of slicing through the thick neck of a Horned Goliath especially when its horns interlock over the neck and act as natural armor. That fight clearly showed how vicious and deadly a human truly is.
Morgranff: Of course, I haven’t stopped betting on the humans ever since I had made that very mistake, that being said, can I buy you a drink?
Stencillon: Yes, I would love to celebrate your winnings with you.
The two start walking down the bustling corridor of the “Fight Palace”, and both freeze at the sight of the, now clean of Goliath blood, human fighter they had just watched dispatch the Goliath.
Stencillon: Why do they let humans walk around freely like this? Shouldn’t they keep such a vicious predator in a cage?
Margranff: You know I have never understood it either. Humans are far too unpredictable and I have never felt safe around them unless I am on the other side of the barrier fence at a fight.
Stencillon: Should we go around the other way?
Margranff: Yes, but what is the human doing?
Stencillon: I don’t know but it is approaching that child over there, I am going to call security.
The human crouched down next to the clearly homeless Maldovian child. The child’s blue skin ruffled as the human carefully spoke in hushed tones.
Margranff: What is he after with that kid?
The human pulls out a roll of dollar bills from his pocket and separates a few offering them to the child. The child reluctantly takes the money and stands up by taking the hand of the human that had just been offered up following the cash. They slowly walk together to a food cart and talk to the Purveyor of meat kabobs. The child selects its food and the human steps up to pay for the food.
Margranff (whispering to himself): Is he going to eat the child?
Stencillon (on a communications device): yes, the human is doing something with a homeless Maldovian child…. I don’t know his intention, he is a human!... I won’t interfere, that is why I am calling you…. Yes, I feel like I am in danger, the fight winning human is walking around doing unpredictable things.
The human and the child sit together against the wall in the corridor and chat while an amplified voice from the stadium calls out a new fight in the ring. The child is really just stuffing his face and nodding as the human goes on and on about something that is important to him but definitely not important to the child.
Stencillon: the security officer is on his way.
Margranff: Good thing too, there is definitely something up with what this human is doing, even though I can’t put my finger on it.
A security guard comes running up and slows to a stop at the sight of the human. The guard turns his head to one side contorting his face in total confusion as he tries to take in the scene. The guard stops analyzing everything and starts psyching himself up to go talk to the human. The guard sort of stretches and sort of hops around trying to get up the courage when he suddenly freezes.
Margranff: Did the security guard just scare himself or something?
Stencillon: No, look, there are two other humans that just showed up.
The two newly arrived humans walk straight over to the first one who is still talking to the child who has already finished eating the food he had. They interrupt what the first human is saying and the first human gets up on his feet and bares his teeth at the two interlopers before they stand against each other and start squeezing each other.
Stencillon: are they beginning to wrestle?
Margranff: If they are fighting, what do you bet the first one loses to the other two?
The security guard had been nervously calling for backup this whole time and is still in disbelief that this already dangerous call had tripled in danger before he had even started. The guard feeling defenseless pulls out his weapon aiming at the humans who had now switched the wrestling to the first and third human.
Stencillon: this is going to end badly, if that guard shoots one of them the other two will rip him to shreds.
Margranff: At least this situation will end with the child being rescued.
The humans start pointing to the child after unlocking their arms from the wrestling lock they were in. the three of them begin raising their voices at each other.
Human #3: COME ON….ANOTHER….CHILD….EAT!
Human #2: YOU DO THIS ALL THE TIME.
The third human walks over to the kabob cart and starts talking to the vendor.
Margranff: Are they going to eat the child?
Stencillon: That’s what I just heard, they must be checking with the food cart guy to see if he will cook the child for them.
The large burly Maldovian Head of security shows up walking casually to the security guard, lowering the nervously held weapon, tells him to stand down.
Stencillon: head of security is here, I am going to get closer and see what happens.
Margranff: I’ll come with you.
The third human turns around from the cart holding a lot of food. He walks over and hands the child one before handing one to each of the other humans. The Head of security steps over to them just as Stencillon and Margranff get close enough to observe while still remaining at a relatively safe distance.
Head of security: Steeeeve?
The first human deflates knowing he was in for a lecture and some disappointment.
Head of security: How many times have I told you, you can’t adopt the children that hangout around here.
Steve: But Orri, the kid is homeless.
Orri (head of security): No, this kid’s name is BahOni, he lives down the street from here, he lives with his brother, sisters and both his parents, he cannot be adopted. He probably heard from a friend about a prize winning fighter who buys lonely kids food and gives them money.
Steve: I know, I know, but I…
Orri: NO!
4K notes
·
View notes
Note
a steve with fem reader fix might just cure me. maybe inspired by the song in agreement by lizzy mcalpine? i love your writing :)
ty sm!! sorry this took me a bit, i’m planning a trip for this summer n i’m so so stressed 😭
(1.5K) (cw: fem!r, mentions of sex)
“What’s his name?”
The bed squeaks as you roll over onto your stomach, pushing down a smile
“Steve,” you say, your voice tellingly sticky and sweet.
“Steve who?”
“What, are you gonna find him in the phone book, mom?” She wouldn’t have to. She knows Steve Harrington as well as the rest of Hawkins.
“Maybe I would,” she teases, but you think she’s half serious.
You consider spilling your guts. Your mom has heard very little of your love life before now, mostly because you weren’t dating guys you would ever take home. Steve, though…
You want to. Take him home. Not even as a pride thing (a little bit as a pride thing), but because you think he’s great, and your mom is great, and you know they’d love each other.
It all felt so exclusive, though. Girls take their boyfriends home to meet the family. Steve isn’t your boyfriend. You don’t even know why you’re telling your mom at all.
Sensing your discomfort, your mom changes her angle.
“Well, at least tell me about him. Is he nice?”
The velocity of your answer lodges in your throat and turns into a laugh.
“Um,” you giggle, “is grass green?”
Foamy chittering pours out of the landline.
“O-kay, message received,” your mom jokes. You wrap the phone cord around your finger, smiling.
“He’s so nice, mom. It’s almost irritating. He makes me sandwiches with the crusts cut off.”
“I think I’m gonna like this boyfriend of yours.” She’s obviously smiling, too. You can hear it in her voice. “He sounds wonderful.”
“Well he’s—“ you hesitate. “We aren’t exclusive.”
There’s a puzzled silence.
“He hasn’t asked?” A speck of disappointment seeps into the question. You roll back over, splaying yourself out in shame.
“Oh, he asked. Twice, but I told him no.”
A gasp. “You didn’t.”
“Yeah, I did,” you confirm, wincing.
“Well, what’s the holdup?”
“Ugh.“ The ceiling looms over you, and you track the afternoon light refracted by your mirror, thinking. “I dunno. I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Have you guys—” A tea kettle screams over the line. “Hold on.”
Staticky shuffles and your mother’s humming serenade you while you think about her question. What’s the holdup?
It’s not Steve. When you first said no, his face had sunken so severely you almost changed your mind, because you knew he would put the whole thing on himself. The second time around, you might’ve been more surprised than he was that your answer hadn’t changed. It was just…
The sound of the receiver being picked up, and your mom’s voice interrupts your thoughts.
“Have you had sex yet?”
“Oh my god, mom.”
“What? I can’t ask?”
Shoving your face into your pillows, you teeter between laughing and screaming. You’re suddenly glad you kept all your past boyfriends a secret. You pick your head back up and press the receiver to your ear, red-faced.
“No, we haven’t,” you lie. “Steve said he wants to wait until we make it official.”
It’s not totally untrue, Steve did say that. You just leave out the part where he caved two days later.
Gone is your flush by the time your mom replies, having paused so long you thought the call dropped. A serenity coats her voice, like silk sheets after a shower—everything as it should be.
“I hope you keep Steve. I’d like to meet him.”
You both leave it at that, turning over other stones for another half an hour, until your call is interrupted by a handsome devil sneaking through your door.
“Oh—hey, mom I—I gotta go, okay? I’ll call you tomorrow?” Sunny brown eyes watch you from the threshold as you say this, enjoying your casual sprawl, your sweet pajama set. Steve soaks in the privilege of seeing you, of being invited over, and of being a call-ending arrival. The phone is barely back on the hook before he rolls over you and manhandles you on top of him. You shriek but don’t fight it.
“Hi, pretty.” Steve rubs your back in big, long sweeps, melting you.
“Mmph, ‘ey,” you mumble, face smooshed into his chest. Steve is like a furnace, constantly hot, and it’s like laying on sun-warmed sand. When he laughs, it vibrates in his ribs.
“What happened to you, baby, hm? Tired?” You nod. “What’d you do all day?”
You regale the day with minimal words, all the way up to the moment he found you.
“—‘n then called mom, cause we hadn’t talked in awhile.”
“Mm-hm, I heard,” he says, not unkindly. His fingers knead the back of your neck. You close your eyes. “You didn’t have to hang up ‘causa me, yknow?”
Nodding minutely, you slur something incoherent. Steve chuckles.
“Feels good?”
More nodding. Steve kisses the top of your head.
“Talked t’my mom ‘bout you,” you spit out, too blissed to think.
Steve stills for a split second, and then doubles down his ministrations.
“Yeah?” There’s a giddy earnestness in his voice that makes you smile.
“Mm-hm,” you hum. “I told her about the sandwiches.”
An amused rumble.
“Anything else?” He asks, and if he’s trying to disguise his anticipation he’s not succeeding.
“Mmm, yeh.” A dopey smile splits your face as Steve slips a hand under your pajama shirt to scratch your back.
“Yeah? Like what, pretty girl?” Steve knows he has you limp and pliable in his lap, and he’s trying to get as much information as possible.
“Ummm, like, how we haven’t had sex—“
“We haven’t?”
You shake your head, and then it quickly devolves into rubbing your cheek on his thick polo.
“We haven’t.”
“Okay,” Steve agrees blindly.
“B’cause we aren’t official, remember?” You look up just as Steve bites back a flinch.
“Hard to forget,” he murmurs, but he pets your baby hairs back gently despite it all. “What else did you tell her?”
“That’s all,” you tell him.
Something about Steve’s sorry eyes makes you regret not telling your mom his last name. Are you ashamed of him? Do you think he isn’t worth defending? It lights a fire, burning you from the inside out. It’s so typical of you, to have one foot in and one foot out, always ready to run away. Always afraid to emotionally invest.
That’s the damn holdup.
In a self-afflicted fury, you pull yourself back together to sit up. Steve places cautious hands on your legs, gauging your mood. Knees on either side of his hips, you fist his shirt in your hands and steady your voice.
“Would you want to meet her sometime? My mom?”
Steve’s mouth drops open. He sits up, hands gripping your thighs firmly.
“Really?”
Softening, you nod. “Really.”
“‘Course I want to. Yes,” he says, breathless. “When?”
“Well…,” you sigh. Gazing at the ceiling, you pretend to think. “I’d need you to fill out some paperwork first.”
Steve raised a dubious brow.
“What, like, an NDA?”
“Ha-ha. No, not that kind of paperwork. I was thinking some kind of…certificate of exclusivity?”
Steve blinks. “I’m so not following.”
Shifting closer on Steve’s lap, you place a chaste kiss on his lips. You can hardly contain a smile as you continue, kissing between your words.
“I dunno—“ Kiss. “—just something that—“ Kiss. “—proves—“ Kiss. “—that you’re my boyfriend.”
You seal the words with a final kiss, and then hesitantly pull back to see Steve’s reaction.
Awe-stricken, Steve is playing with the hem of your pajama shorts, a thoughtful look on his face.
“You mean it?”
When you nod, Steve’s hands come up and around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.
“What made you change your mind?” His hands caress your back like he’s not sure if this is real, like he’s afraid to break the illusion. You shrug, nose bumping his.
“Time, I guess. I wasn’t convinced you knew what you were asking for.”
Steve kisses the corner of your mouth, and then your cheek; Moves down to nip at your neck.
“Think I came on too strong,” he agonizes into your jaw. “But you’re so good for me. I didn’t want ya t’ think I wasn’t all in.”
Golden brown hair slips around your fingers as you massage his temples.
“I am, too,” you assure him. “All in.”
Steve grins.
“Can I get that in writing?”
+
thank you for reading! 🦢
masterlist
#steve harrington#request#stranger things#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington fic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington x reader#reqs open#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fluff#fanfic#stranger things fanfiction
400 notes
·
View notes
Text
We Saved Each Other (Part Five)
Summary: you’re continuing to grow everyday with Natasha, facing all kinds of challenges both new and old
Word Count: 4.1k
Parings: (Natasha Romanoff x Kid!Reader) (Maria, Clint and Fury appear)
Warnings: Red room references, abusive father references, nightmares, shouting, crying, but the fluffiest ending
————
Natasha was amazed at your progress. It had been a long 2 months but you were continuing to grow every day. You were starting to get more comfortable around the avengers but there was still some bonding to be done and many more mountains to be climbed.
-5 weeks at S.H.I.E.L.D-
“So” Fury said as he settled into his chair “how are the two of you settling in?” The director asked. Natasha glanced over to you through the glass, you were always scared when you couldn’t see her and truth being told Nat didn’t ever want to let you out of her sight either “we’re okay” she said “ok, and the truth?” Nick smirked “it’s been hard I guess” the widow wasn’t yet used to allowing her emotions to show “she doesn’t know any different” Natasha said, eyes still glued to you “we don’t know any different” she corrected.
“Woah y/n look at this one!” Maria said as reached right to the bottom of the box of brand new toys Clint had sent for you “what is it?” You asked as you waddled over “it’s a doll house” Maria said “do you wanna open it up and put it together?” Your eyes lit up, you had never had your own doll house “yes please” you said. It was a challenge for Maria, this whole situation was. The agent had her walls built so high and watching over you, playing with you, it brought a lot of memories back for her. “What are you going to name this one?” Maria said as she passed you the brand new doll “I can name it anything?” You asked “of course” Maria said.
“We can’t keep her here without a guardian much longer Romanoff” Nick coughed “what does that mean? Where are you gonna send her?” The panic ran up through Natasha’s spine “we don’t want to send her anywhere, but she needs a guardian” Nats blood settled again “are you asking me to do that?” She asked “I’m not asking you to do anything, in all honesty you can’t, you haven’t been a US citizen long enough” Nick said “you need to have been here at least 12 months” Natasha sighed “that’s another 2 months away” the red head said. She would be damed if these people just shipped you off somewhere new “why can’t she just stay here until I can be her guardian” Natasha asked “I didn’t know that’s what you wanted” Nick said, falling back into his chair. Shit. She was letting her guard down again, letting some stranger see her emotions “well I don’t want her just thrown into the care of someone else” the widow said “we can take care of her, I can take care of her. Please Fury, let me help her”
“Hey y/n” Nat said as she opened the door “you wanna get some lunch?” She asked, you shrunk into yourself again, still wanting to play but not wanting to get into trouble “okay” you nodded your head. Natasha picked up on your discomfort “would you like to stay and play a bit longer?” The red head asked “yes please” you timidly said. Maria said her goodbyes and Natasha came to join you on the carpet “what’s your dolly’s name?” She asked, your cheeks grew a certain red and you giggled “Natasha” you smiled “you named her Natasha? After me?” The agent asked “yeah” you shyly said “why did you do that?” Nat asked again “because you’re my best friend” you smiled up with your y/e/c “you’re my best friend too y/n” Natasha said, feeling her heart open more than it ever had.
-6 weeks at S.H.I.E.L.D-
You were so exhausted. Each time you slept your mind was plagued with demons, running around and throwing very bad memory into your consciousness. Right now was no different .“Y/n?” Natasha cooed “you’re okay y/n, wake up for me sweetheart” she pleaded. You had finally settled at 6am after a night of tears and no sleep. It was 8:30 now, things were going so well, Natasha was thrilled that you were getting some rest at last. “Y/n sweetheart, it’s Natty can you hear me?” She asked. You could hear her calling you but she was too far away, your father dragging you even further and pushing you into the arms of a strange man. Natasha cradled you in her lap, wiling you to wake through her thoughts “I’ve got you darling. It’s okay you’re safe” she continued to say.
Finally the darkness had gone and the overhead light stung your eyes slightly as you rolled away from it, further into Nat’s grip “Natty” you cried out “I’m here baby, I’m here” she said as she gently stoked your hair behind your ear “d- Dreykov” you whispered “its alright y/n. I won’t let him hurt you, he can’t get to you okay” Natasha said to you, and herself. “Do you want sprinkles?” Natasha asked, you nodded your head at the mention of your beloved stuffed bunny. The widow had bought if for you after your first nightmare, she had always wanted a stuffy and she was honoured to gift your first ever one to you.
You wrapped Sprinkles arms around your own while Natasha tucked you back into the soft sheets. “Get some sleep okay sweetheart” she said, bringing her hand back to your forehead, trailing her fingertips across your hair line “okay” you yawned “Natty?” You peered up at her “yeah?” She said as she sat on the plush mattress next to you. “can you sing me a song?” You asked “a song?” Nat asked in return, slightly terrified at the prospect of singing “yeah” you said sleepily “daddy used to sing me lullabies. Be-before he turned scary” you frowned and Natasha lent down to leave a kiss on your forehead, the action taking both of you by surprise “what did daddy used to sing for you?” The widow asked. You hummed in thought for a moment “I don’t remember” you said “how about I sing you one that my mommy used to sing to me?” Natasha smiled at the brief memory “where is your mommy?” You questioned as you rubbed your sore eyes “I don’t know, I haven’t seen her in 15 years” Nat believed Melina had died many years ago but she didn’t want to put that in your head “that’s a long time” you said “it is” Nat nodded “are you going to leave me for 15 years?” You quietly asked, afraid of the answer. Natasha couldn’t promise you anything, her future was just as unclear as yours but she was sure of one thing “I’m not going anywhere y/n” she said “now you close those eyes” her Russian accent filled your ears with a beautiful tune as she began to sing. Her comforting warmth lulling you into a deep slumber.
-7 weeks at S.H.I.E.L.D-
“No.” Natasha firmly said “I’m not going on this mission!” she slammed her hands on the wall “Romanoff” Fury warned, Maria cutting him off “the whole point of you coming here was that you would work under S.H.I.E.L.D” she said “well things have changed!” Natasha yelled “I need you for this mission Natasha” Fury boomed “I have to be here for y/n” Natasha said, scratching at her palms to calm her anger “you can’t stay glued to her side forever” Maria sighed. “You don’t get it!” The widow screamed, loosing all control “then explain it to us!” Fury said, mirroring Nat’s anger. “This is the safest place y/n has ever been but she doesn’t feel it yet.” Natasha began “she won’t feel safe for a long time and I may not be the perfect role model but I am the only one she trusts, the only one who will ever understand the hell she has been through!” Natasha’s voice was cracking, the tears threatening to spill “you both went through it” Maria said, catching the halls attention “they need time Nick” she said looking at her superior “a month is long enough” he said “no it’s not” Maria shot back “only Natasha and y/n can tell us when they’re ready” the brunette came to stand by Nats side, a silent promise that she was there for her. “So what do you need?” Nick asked “time” Natasha said.
“Natty?” You quietly called from the bedroom door, the three adults in the corridor turned their attention to you “hey y/n, are you okay?” Nat asked “why are you shouting?” You mumbled “sorry sweetheart we were just having a little disagreement” the red head said as she came to pick you up. She stopped immediately when you backed away from her “its okay no one’s angry” she cooed coming down to your level “I don’t like it” you sniffled “you sound like daddy” Natasha’s heart sank, she wanted to make a different impact on your life. “I’m sorry baby I didn’t mean to scare you” Nat said trying to defuse the situation. Her efforts fell short when Fury announced his exit with the slam of the corridor doors. You flinched and pushed past the red head into Maria’s legs, breaking Natasha’s heart without knowing it. She couldn’t hold it back this time, big strong Nat, the tears started to fall. She quickly stood and turned on her heels walking past you and Maria, intertwined together. “Natasha” the agent called after the widow, her sobs fading and allowing her to hear yours. “It’s alright y/n, let’s go and get a hot chocolate okay”
Natasha caught the faint red stain in the mirror as she turned on her feet, the blood beginning to seep through her pointe shoes. This was the only way to let it all out. She had cried enough, spent too long feeling sorry for herself. Now she needed to make up for her mistake, and she needed to forget the look on your little face. The balletic music filled her head enough that Natasha didn’t notice when Clint came into the studio, only realising he was there when she caught his frame landing from a leap. She continued to twirl until Clint stopped the music “that looks painful” he said as he pointed to Natasha’s shoes, she simply shrugged. “Maria called” Clint began “told me what happened earlier. Why are you punishing yourself?” He asked. There it was again, the feeling of her tears creeping up on her “because I’m a monster” she whispered “No. you’re not” the spy said as he handed his teammate a fresh water bottle. He tilted his gaze to the bench and Natasha understood the message. “You’re allowed to be hurt too you know” Clint said as he passed nat a first aid kit, understanding that she would probably want to tend to her own wounds herself. “This has been a huge scary change for you, and for y/n. It’s not always going to be easy” Clint settled on the bench close to Natasha “she got scared Nat, but she won’t stay scared. I see it in her face, she trusts you, you just reminded her of a time I’m sure she’d rather forget” Nat looked over to her fellow agent every few seconds, in between placing her sneakers back onto her bruised feet “do you remember your second week here?” Clint asked “we were training in the gym. You dodged my right hook and I took you straight to the floor, and you stayed there for an hour. You were afraid, because I reminded you of a time you would rather forget” Natasha thought about the memory in detail, imagining that’s how you must have felt today “but here you are now, sat here with me. And I know you’ll never admit it, but I see it on your face too; I see that you trust me” the two shared a glance, accompanied with a small smile. Feeling content that Natasha was safe to be on her own, Clint left her to ponder. Ponder about you.
When Natasha found you, you were watching finding nemo. You and nat had watched it together for the first time last week. Maria was close by and Natasha wished it was her next to you instead of sprinkles. “Hey y/n” she quietly said, not wanting to startle you “mind if I join you?” She asked from a safe distance, thrilled when you nodded. She sat on the armchair next to the couch and you instantly knew that she was too far away for your liking. Shuffling down of the cushions you made your way over to Natasha and slotted your hand into hers, a large smile forming on her face. You pulled her to her feet and dragged her back to your mountain of blankets, silently asking her to join you, which she of course did. After a while of content movie watching, Maria excused herself, leaving you and Natasha to talk. “Y/n” Nat said, drawing your focus to her “I’m so sorry I scared you today” you looked up to her emerald eyes and saw nothing but regret, a look your father never had. He had never told you he was sorry after shouting and he definitely didn’t after he had thrown you around the house. You knew Natasha was different, every touch to your skin was gentle and every sentence was soft. “I forgive you” you said noticing a tear forming in the corner of Natasha’s eye “don’t cry Natty” you said as you came to your knees and crawled to wipe away her stray tear. “I promise you I will never hurt you y/n, you don’t have to be scared of me” Natasha sniffled “‘M not scared of you” you sat back on your heels “but I am scared of daddy” you admitted “and I’m scared of Dreykov, and the red room. I don’t wanna go back there” Natasha broke hearing you say the very same words she had once pleaded. “You don’t ever have to go back there baby” the red head cried with you “not to the red room and not to daddy, you can stay with me forever” you collapsed into Nats arms and held on tight, you knew you were never letting go “look at me y/n” Natasha said as she lifted your chin with her pinky “it’s okay to be afraid. I’m afraid too sometimes, but me and you are gonna stick together and I will always look after you” he sniffled “I’ll look after you too Natty”
-Week 8 at S.H.I.E.L.D-
Waking up next to Natasha felt safe. She was warm and always had one arm holding you close. The widow had tried to coax you into your own bed, adjacent to her own on the other side of the room. Each night, however, you would always end up cuddled together. Natasha understood it was where you felt most comfortable but still dealing with her own nightmares at the same time was hard, thankfully you were a heavy sleeper but Nat always feared she would startle you awake too.
Today was a big day. You hadn’t been outside of the S.H.I.E.L.D grounds since you arrived, the outside world seeming too scary. Natasha had seen you though, staring up at the city through the fencing. Your little mind was so curious and you had yet to explore the world outside of an abusive environment. You were excitedly nervous when Natasha told you she needed to take a trip to the store, you had never been to one of those before. The red head didn’t really need to go but it was a good excuse to get you out of HQ. She had agreed with Fury that a car of specialist agents would follow close behind, dressed in everyday clothes as to not frighten you although they were ultimately there to protect you. Fury accepted Natasha’s many requests, despite not fully understanding why he needed 10 members of his team watching the surrounding areas.
“Good morning Natty” you said as you gently laid your weight over her stomach, you were clingiest in the morning and Natasha loved it. Thinking back to the first few weeks you were here, it was remarkable that you accepted her loving touch so easily now. “Are you looking forward to our trip out today?” Nat asked “yeah. But ‘M a little nervous” you mumbled behind a yawn “that’s alright sweetheart” Natasha said as she pushed your baby hairs to the side “I’ll keep you safe y/n” she smiled, and you smiled back. The redhead considered asking you if you wanted to go to a cafe for breakfast but thought that might be too much for todays adventure.
“Okay, other foot darling” Natasha said as reached for the laces on your right shoe. “Alright, I think we’re ready to go!” She finished with a gentle pat to your shoe clad foot. You followed Natasha through the building towards the garage area, reaching for her hand every now and then but deciding against it. “Woah!” You said as you helped the redhead push open the door “would you like to pick a car? We’re allowed to take any one that we want!” She said “yes please” you excitedly giggled and instantly moved towards the convertible Volkswagen Beatle. “You wanna take the bug y/n?” Nat asked, you nodded with anticipation and the widow helped you into the car seat Maria had gotten for you.
You were amazed. The trees swaying so freely, all the colours in the bushes just filled with flowers. You couldn’t keep still the entire journey, every corner filling your little mind with wonder. As curious as you were, you failed to catch the unmarked S.H.I.E.L.D car trailing you. Natasha however, was glancing in the mirror every few moments to make sure they were still there, your safety being her number one priority. You got excited when the tall buildings of the city came into view but were immediately disappointed when Natasha took a left turn into a car park. “Ok here we are!” Nat said “do you have the list I gave you sweetheart?” You held up the notepad high to show Natasha you had taken good care of it.
When you reached for Natasha’s hand this time, just outside the shop doors, she obliged straight away. Keeping a tight grip on you and the basket in her other hand, she asked you what was the first item on the list. Natasha didn’t actually need any of the things she had written down but they were basic necessities so would one day become useful. You stayed close to your best friend the entire time, starting to feel slightly overwhelmed as the store filled up with customers. The lights were getting to bright and the mixed sent from each department was too much but as long as Natasha was beside you, you knew you would be okay. “Ok I think we’re all done darling” the redhead said “shall we double check?” She continued as she put down the heavy basket. You began to list of every item on your piece of paper “toothpaste” you said “check” Natasha answered “shampoo”
“Check”
“Soap”
“Check”
“Lotion”
“Check! I think we’re all good!” Natasha finally said after you had ticked of every item. “You’ve been so helpful y/n, how about we go and pick you out a new outfit?” Truth be told you were ready to leave but you had been eyeing up the clothes every time you wandered past “okay” you said and retook Nat’s hand.
You didn’t like this section anymore, at first it had been fun all these bright colours and pretty dresses, but each time you picked something out Natasha would let go of your hand to pull it off the rail. Eventually both your hands were so full of clothes that you had no way to connect, thankfully Natasha had suggested that it was time to leave so you followed close by to the checkout making sure you could see her red locks the entire time. A group of teenagers came charging towards you both, taking you by surprise and causing you drop your new sneakers. You quickly lent down to grab them but when you looked up again Natasha’s red hair was no where to be seen. You immediately panicked, not being able to see the widow, dropping everything in your grasp to run ahead and catch up to her. You expected she would be just around the corner but when you shuffled around on the slippery floor, she wasn’t there. A gentlemen came up behind you with your discarded items “here you go y/n” the man said, causing you to let out a squeal at the unwelcome touch “no go away!” You screamed and ran in the opposite direction.
Meanwhile, Natasha was frantically searching for you in every isle and around every bend. “Y/n?” She called at every corner. All your shopping was long gone by now, nothing mattered more to Natasha than you did. She ran through the store, halting when she saw agent Carlos holding the clothes and shoes you had picked out. She came crashing into him demanding to know where you were “she got frightened and ran off agent Romanoff” he timidly said, fearing the darkness in the red heads eyes. “Well contact everyone else! Find her!” She demanded and began to race the store in search for you again.
The toy isle seemed a great place to hide, you knocked the boxes of the bottom shelf causing quite a commotion. While pushing the remaining toys out of your way, agent Hill had caught you in the corner of her eye “Romanoff I’ve got her, the toy section” she said into the cuff of her sleeves drawing questioning looks from other customers. Just before you could climb into your hidden safe space, an arm interlocked with your own “no!” You yelled “let me go!” You kicked as Maria pulled you towards her “it’s alright y/n it’s me” she pleaded. Through your teary eyes, you couldn’t quite make out her face and although you recognised her voice she wasn’t who you wanted “no! I want mama! Where’s my mama!” You cried out.
Natasha came speeding down the shop floor, scanning every isle despite knowing where you were. A huddle of onlookers had appeared, Nat simply pushed through them ignoring their huffs of disapproval. She rounded the corner to see you backing away from Maria screaming for your mom, how Natasha’s heart broke, knowing she could never bring her back to you. “Y/n?” The widow said, your head immediately whipping to her direction, your screams stopped for a moment but your howling increased as your eyes met Natasha’s “mama!” You cried as your feet picked up and you ran straight for her. Natasha’s world fell still, you were calling for her. Calling a name she had only dreamed of one day hearing and knew she never would. “Mommy!” you cried once more as Natasha’s world came back to life, her own feet leading her towards you. “Come here baby girl!” She said, and moments later your bodies collided into the most loving embrace the two of you had ever witnessed “mommy’s here y/n” she said into your ear as you cried into her shoulder “please don’t leave me mommy!” You sobbed “I’m not going anywhere y/n, I promise” Natasha said “mama’s got you. Let’s go home baby”
That night, Natasha welcomed you into her bed, wanting to hold you close. You had spent all evening trying on your new clothes (Maria had made sure they were purchased along with the toys you had accidentally broken) you had put on a fashion show for your new mama and required her validation for every outfit, not that you needed it. You had worn yourself out before your usual bedtime and Natasha had decided the two of you would have a movie night. Your eyes had fell closed no more than 30 minutes into the first film. Nat turned off the lights, leaving just the one on her bedside table, you shifted as the redhead pulled the duvet up to cover you both “mh” you whined “mama” you huffed as you cuddled into her side “I’m here sweetheart” your mommy said, holding you tightly in her arms. You fell soundly asleep in the arms of your mom, the woman you love most in the world. As for Natasha, she fell asleep holding in her hands what had only ever been a dream. A dream the red room had tried to take away from her, yet here she was holding her daughter, holding you.
————
This is the longest fic I’ve ever written so I apologise if there’s any mistakes I tried my best to get it done quickly as well and with my dyslexic ass there’s probably mistakes all over it
Happy new year guys🩷
#marvel#natasha romanoff#black widow#marvel fic#nat x reader#avengers#natasha x little!reader#natasha x daughter!reader#clint x natasha#maria hill#nick fury#agents of shield
97 notes
·
View notes
Text
@the-ghost-trader - ooooh, i love this! it has the potential to be so incredibly sad, too, like poor Damian just trying to carve out something normal for himself only for it blow up in his face
BUT, shockingly, i'm not about the angst today! not yet anyway 😇
---
“So, how was your day?”
Despite his answering groan, Damian likes this. This. This whole… thing he has with Danielle. With Ellie.
And, yeah, he’s not exactly told any of the others yet, but can you blame him? For wanting to keep something, anything, to himself. Wanting to keep this small little slice of goodness he’s managed to carve out, untouched and unmarred by his family, by their other lives, by the rogues, the vigilantes, the assassins, everyone.
“That bad, huh?”
Being with Ellie is freeing. That’s the best way to describe it.
She knows. Damian surprised even himself when he told her—not about the others, mind, but he supposes it’s not hard to put two and two together and Dani has always been smarter than most—but it’s the best decision he’s ever made, and no matter what the niggling little voice in the back of his head says (the one that sounds suspiciously like Father), he can’t bring himself to regret it.
He won’t. Because having Ellie know gives him freedom.
She’s a safe place, a hand to hold, a warm, welcoming presence when things inevitably turn ugly. It’s the freedom to just be normal when everything else in his life spirals into stranger and more stressful missions.
“Richard is being insufferable again. I do not understand his incessant need to know everything about my life.”
“Oh? What’s he done now?”
“I was subjected to an hour long interrogation about my love life, like it’s any of his business. It’s infuriating!”
“Ugh, tell me about it. I get the same thing from Jazz, constantly. It can be suffocating.” Ellie says as she curls herself tighter into his side. “But it’s just how they show they care.”
“Yes, well, sometimes I wish he wouldn’t—”
“Hey!” Ellie pushes herself up to glare at him, punctuating her shout with a soft whack to his arm for good measure. “What have I said about using that word?”
“Yes, yes,” he placates with a roll of his eyes, “‘Be careful what you wish for.’ I apologise, it won't happen again.”
“Damn straight it won't.”
She maintains eye contact with him for a second longer before tucking herself back into his side, squirming around with a long, contented hum that Damian can feel rumble through him. He smiles and doesn’t complain even when he has to shift to give her more room after a particularly strong elbow jabs him in the ribs. It means leaving the warm patch on the couch, but he’s rewarded with another long, happy moan as she settles and Damian can’t bring himself to mind.
Ellie constantly makes noises. Little mews and hums and laughs and songs known only to her. It reminds him of a cat, sometimes. He likes it. It calms him down; it means she’s happy, so he's happy.
They settle back into the cushions and Damian lets the subject drop, not wanting to spoil the moment. Outside, the wind changes direction and from where he’s laying he can watch as the snow starts to come down thick and heavy. Hopefully it’ll mean a quiet night's patrol.
“Is that why you haven’t introduced me yet?”
“What?” He can't help it, he stiffens at the thought of losing his secret, of the scrutiny he'll be inviting if he lets anyone know.
“Are you worried I’ll embarrass you?”
Damian’s eyes snap down quick to reassure her, only to see her light, teasing grin. He lets out a breath of relief. It figures she wouldn't worry about that.
“Of course not, don’t be absurd. You could never embarrass me.”
“I don’t know,” she muses, her voice taking on a dangerous lilt, “that sounds like a challenge.”
“Believe me, having been subjected to Father’s Brucie persona at every gala I’ve been to, it would take a lot to embarrass me.”
“Alright, bet. I’ll get you, just you wait.”
“You’ve already got me.”
She flicks him on the nose. “You’re such a sap.”
He hums his agreement, enjoying the tinkling sound of her laughter. And then, before he can think otherwise, he asks, “Is that why you haven’t introduced me?”
“That’s different,” she scowls. “You know how hard it is to get there, there’s no signal, and Danny only gets a break like—oh, Ancients!”
Damian gets another elbow to the ribs as she bolts upright, a manic grin on her face that has him laughing.
“What is it?”
“It’s the holidays! It’s nearly Truce Day! You know I said I had a family thing around Christmas?”
“Yes?”
“Well, do you want to come to it? I can introduce you then! I mean, it’s going to be a bit formal and you’ll have to meet everyone, not just family. There’s going to be some banquets, you’ll have to sit through some long speeches and you have to be on your best behaviour at all times, okay? Absolutely no fighting, it’s called Truce Day for a reason!”
“What?”
“Yeah, it’ll be perfect! I think Jazz is going in a couple days earlier to help with the preparations, so I’ll get her to let Danny know—and fair warning, he will try to give you the shovel talk, but this is great! It’s Truce Day, so he can’t actually do anything about it!”
“I’m sorry, but you're going to have to explain a bit.”
“Yeah, I know, it’s a bit much—but that’s family, right? Danny can get pretty protective over me, which is why going on Truce Day is the best time to do it! He can’t even command the Fright Knight to stab you! It’s genius!”
“Ellie, what?”
“Like, yeah, sure, he’s the king, but even he has to obey the rules of Truce Day—and then once you’ve spent all day with him, he’ll see that you’re a fantastic, wonderful, kind, brilliant, smart, strong, capable person and he’ll get over himself and everything will be good!"
Damian collapses down onto the couch, the wind knocked out of him. This is… He had not expected anything like this at all. For all that Ellie talked about her family, she had never mentioned this.
“Did you… did you say your brother is a king?”
“Yeah! High King Phantom, have I…” The manic grin slips off her face as she turns round and notices Damian. “Have I not mentioned that before?”
“No. No, you have not.”
“Ah. Sorry. Probably should clarify that I’m also a princess.”
“Right. Yes, that follows.”
“And I’m not really his sister, I’m his clone.”
“What?”
Damian blinks and tries to say more, but he has no idea what he’s meant to do with… any of this information.
Normal. He thought she was meant to be his normal. Nothing could have prepared him for this.
Not that it changed anything, of course, of that he was certain. It’s just… a lot to take in. Overwhelming. But it's okay! He takes a deep breath, and another, and a sense of calm washes over him. Ellie makes one of her little hums as she cocks her head to the side to consider him and he can't help but relax at the normalcy of the sound. It'll be okay, he's dealt with stranger and he can deal with this.
“I’ve, uh… I’ve told you that we’re half ghosts, though, right?”
“What?”
#dpxdc#danny phantom batman#danny phantom crossover#damian wayne/dani phantom#do they have a ship name? probably but idk it sorry#this was fun!! damian is strong and smart and capable and he won't let this stop him!#sure it's a shock but what does that matter when he has the love of his life by his side!!#he can get through this! at least his girlfriend's brother/original/...father? can't get his knight to stab him#that's a point in truce day's favour - even if damian is regretting asking to be introduced#in ellie's defence she thought he knew! he's slightly liminal himself she just assumed he could pick it up! ... he could not.#when they actually get there damian loves it - he fits right in with all the ghosts#there's a little adjustment period where he is VERY prickly with everyone but he gets the hang of it very quickly#all the ghosts are very impressed with his willingness to throw down and he has to be reminded by a very stern ellie that it's TRUCE DAY#stop fighting!!#ah i really enjoyed this thank you for the prompt! i hope you enjoy it too!!#as always it came out a lot longer than i intended - i don't know why i even bothered with the whole 'five sentences'#it was obvious i wasn't going to stick to it smh#anyway i hope you liked it!!#(also but sorry i prefer to call her ellie sorry i know i'm in the minority here haha)#my writing#(shit how is it four in the morning eep)#cab writes
490 notes
·
View notes
Text
kiss kiss | joseph quinn x fem!reader
summary: you had seen it all over your pinterest and tiktok, the white buttoned shirts that girls kissed with their favorite lipstick to decorate the shirts with a unique and loving detail for their boyfriends. it looked good, every attempt you had seen looked different and cute, and you couldn’t help yourself when you saw the white buttoned shirt in the back of joe’s closet...
pairing: joseph quinn x fem!reader
tags: fluff fluff fluff, memories of your relationship with joe, a brief mention of sex but no actual smut
author’s note: yeah so i had a rough go of it for a while and i may not be BACK back yet, but. have this. mwah
“Hey, babe?” you called, carrying the wire hanger out to the living room. Joe had been working all day, and he had his feet up now, watching Succession all over again to relax from his own work, and he furrowed his eyebrows when he saw the shirt. “Does this fit you anymore?”
“Yeah,” Joe answered. “Why?”
You shrugged. “No reason,” you replied, thinking fast for an excuse. “Going through our closets to see what we can donate. I just haven’t seen you wear it in a while, so I was wondering.”
“Are you gonna donate that?” Joe asked. “What else have you decided to get rid of?”
“Not a lot,” you told him. “The itchy pink jumper my mum got me for Christmas, and those shoes that pinch your toes.”
Joe crossed his arms behind his head and nodded, and he said, “You can get rid of that shirt. The sleeves are weird and pull at my armpits.”
“Good to know,” you nodded, and you went back to the bedroom. You already had your favorite array of lipsticks laid out, pink and red and brown and even a daring purple added to the lineup, and you settled yourself on the carpet. All of the pictures you had seen had used red lipstick, and you debated which lipstick to use for the task.
Maybe the Dior one that Joe had bought you to wear to the premiere of Stranger Things? That night had been fun— it was the first time you had ever gone to an event with Joe, even though you had been together for years, and he had gone all out in order to make sure it was memorable for you. He had rented an expensive Dior dress for you, with chic makeup to match, and he had gifted you the tube of red lipstick with an engraved xx Eddie on the cap as a keepsake. You rarely used it, afraid to damage it or ruin it in any way, and the bullet of the lipstick was still firm and crisp, having been used maybe twice in its whole lifetime. That night, you had partied with the cast, gotten pictures taken with your lover, and lived the high life for the first time ever. It was so much fun, but you definitely could not do it more than once a year.
Or maybe you should use the ancient lipstick that you had bought at Primark the night of your first date with Joe. You had been getting ready to meet the cute guy that you had matched with on Hinge, and you had realized in a panic that you had no lipstick. You rarely wore makeup back then, but you wanted to make an impression on this guy for some reason, so you ran to the nearest store and bought the first lipstick you could find. You were late to dinner and apologized profusely to Joseph, age 25, from South London, but he had smiled and said he didn’t care. “M’just glad you showed up at all,” he said. His chocolate eyes had melted over dinner as he looked at you, and, towards the end of the meal, he said, “You look beautiful, by the way. Like, your pictures on Hinge are nice, but in person, you’re so… You’re stunning.” Of course, you had assumed he was just trying to get in your pants, but he had departed the night with a kiss to your cheek and a wish to see you again, and you knew that he was something special. You couldn’t ever bear to get rid of the, at this point, four year old lipstick, and you kept it buried in the depths of your makeup bag.
Or maybe, just maybe, you should use the Maybelline lipstick that you had been wearing the day that Joe landed his job as Eddie. You had had a job interview that day and had read somewhere that red lipstick conveyed confidence, and you had gone to the interview with little hopes of anything. You were somewhat glad that they didn’t immediately offer you the job, and you knew that waiting for a response was better, but you still felt glum as you slumped back to the flat. You felt unaccomplished and worthless, and you couldn’t even settle fully into the door before Joe had flung his arms around you and spun you around. “Oh, Jesus!” you had cried, and Joe giggled as he kissed you hard, smearing your lipstick all over his own lips. “Joe! What’s happened?”
“I got the job!” he told you, his eyes wild and bright as he held your face. “I just got off the phone with my agent, they want me to be Eddie!”
“They?” you asked. You vaguely remembered a few months ago, how you and Wes had helped Joe prepare for a self-tape for a character named Eddie, but you knew very little about the role or project past that.
“The Duffers,” Joe said. “Stranger Things, Netflix, they want me! They’re offering me a role!”
“Netflix?” you repeated incredulously. “Oh my God! You got it!”
The night had ended with Chinese takeaway, passionate sex, and an email that you had gotten your own job. It was the happiest day you had had in months, and, even though you had no reason to keep that lipstick, you saw it as a good-luck charm.
You couldn’t decide. You wanted to use all of them, because they all represented something different, and you finally uncapped the Dior lipstick. You carefully applied it to your lips, taking care not to make it messy with the lack of mirror, and you collected the white shirt in your hands. Then, you pressed your waxy lips to the white material of the collar, inking in the shape of your lips forever. It looked cute, and you smiled at your work. One kiss mark was downright adorable, but you wanted more, like the ones you had seen, and you kissed right under the lapel of the shirt, pushing hard against your lips to really make sure the lipstick stayed.
At the end, there were probably a dozen kiss marks littering the top of the dress shirt, and you couldn’t control your glee. You just hoped that Joe would like it as much as you did. You got up from the floor and retrieved a makeup wipe, and you wiped up your messy mouth as you padded out to the hallway. “Babe,” you said softly, capturing the wipe in your fist. “Can you come try something on real quick?”
Joe nodded and grunted as he sat up from the couch, and he swiped a quick kiss on your forehead as he passed you to the bedroom. You slipped by him to get there first, and you picked up the shirt and held it out to him. Confusion etched Joe’s face as he looked at the makeup-covered shirt, and he said, “What is this?”
“I saw a Maison Margiela shirt a lot like this,” you explained. “And I thought you’d like it, but I also wanted it to be personal, y’know? Like… I don’t know, I feel dumb now—“
“No, no, don’t do that,” Joe said quickly. “You made this? Is this the shirt you just asked me about a few minutes ago?” You nodded timidly, and Joe smiled softly. “I love it. Will you help me try it on?”
“I mean, you know how it fits,” you started, but Joe wrinkled up his forehead and shook his head.
“I wanna wear it to dinner tonight,” Joe said. “And maybe, like, every other day too. Definitely to an event, so everyone can see how cute and creative you are.”
“Really?” you asked.
“Of course,” Joe said. He shucked his t-shirt over his head, mussing up his messy curls, and you helped him into the buttoned shirt, being careful not to smudge or aggravate the lipstick marks. You dutifully did up the small buttons for him, and you smiled at your handiwork as it laid on Joe’s chest and collarbones.
“Here,” you said, steering him towards the mirror. “How do you like it?”
Joe examined his reflection, his fingers lightly ghosting over the red lips, and he grinned like a child in excitement. “I love it,” he said. “It looks so good.”
“But it fits weird,” you mumbled, tugging at his shirt sleeves. “Does it still pull at your armpits?”
“Yeah,” Joe said. “But I don’t care about that. This is my new favorite shirt.”
“Joe,” you cooed with watery eyes, and you pressed your cheek into his shoulder, kissing his neck gently. “You’re lovely.”
“You’re lovelier,” Joe said. “Making me this? You’re adorable. I love you.”
“I love you too,” you said softly. “My sweet boy.”
Joe did, in fact, wear that shirt to dinner that night, and you couldn’t control your smile all night. Your baby was a chronic outfit-repeater anyway, but the shirt became a regular part of his wardrobe, especially when he was traveling and felt particularly homesick. He would call you with tears in his eyes, saying how much he missed you, and the camera always showed that he was wearing that shirt. Finally, it came time for premieres and things, and, even though you declined being on his arm for the Quiet Place premiere, he had a piece of you with him underneath his suit jacket all night, right over his heart.
#joseph quinn x reader#joe quinn x reader#joseph quinn x you#joe quinn x you#joseph quinn rpf#joe quinn rpf
295 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sabine Wren (A Quick Study)
Know Thyself to Break Cycles
I was heavily debating whether to make this post because there is always a chance that I’m Talking Out Of My Ass and Looking Too Much Into It but, hey, that’s the fun of it, right?
Speculation and analysis. For this post, it’s about - who would have thought? - Sabine Wren, everyone’s favorite Mandalorian Jedi.
Specifically, there’s a scene in Ahsoka episode 6 that I keep coming back to that I’ll be talking about in this post.
If you somehow haven’t watched Ahsoka yet, then be warned - SPOILERS under the cut.
Here’s the scene:
[gif supplied by @sersi]
Here's why this scene intrigues me so much.
First - Natasha Liu Bordizzo is hella pretty, guys.
(. . . Yes, this is important info.)
Second - notice how Sabine is responding to Thrawn here. It’s not a direct stare. Up until this point in the conversation she's Not Impressed with Thrawn's grand return.
She’s looking at him from an angle; specifically she is tilting her head at him.
That’s significant. Why? Because:
Tilting can similarly indicate curiosity, uncertainty or query, particularly if the head is pushed forward, as if the person was trying to look at the subject in a different way in the hope of seeing something new. The greater the tilt, the greater the uncertainty or the greater the intent to send this signal.
It’s clear that Sabine, despite her bravado, is feeling uncertain about various things regarding her situation.
1. She just doomed their home galaxy to find Ezra.
2. She left Ahsoka for dead.
3. She possibly left Hera (and Jacen!) for dead.
4. She doesn’t even know if Ezra is still alive.
So, yeah. She’s standing on shaky ground and she knows it.
But these matters are the obvious issues. And we all know that there are deeper emotions are at play here for Sabine.
Because this whole conversation has Thrawn - one of the Empire’s, if not the most, brilliant strategists - admit that he is completely confounded about Sabine’s motivations.
Thrawn. Confused. With. Sabine.
Let’s look at it again:
This is Thrawn.
The concept of loyalty is not unknown to him. He understands that; he literally has an entire army and certain parts of the Imperial Remnant that are loyal to him, waiting and preparing for his return!
He studies the culture of a species; their art, their music, their history to understand them - and to exploit weaknesses that are revealed through that same study.
He’s not a stranger to the Ghost crew, either! He’s even seen Sabine’s art. He knows her - or so he thought.
And, yet, he does not understand why Sabine made such a risky gamble. It goes beyond loyalty.
And I think that puzzles Sabine, too. Because my belief is she thinks she knows why she's gone so far to find Ezra.
But if Thrawn is confused about why're you doing something, then wouldn't you start to question your own motives, too?
Hence, the head tilt. Sabine, seeking to understand why he's so confused about her motivations - and, maybe, realizing that he's not the only one who is confused.
Third and last point:
Kudos to Natasha's fantastic acting here. There's a level of nuance to her expression at the end that I am obsessed with.
It's a blink or miss it moment but pay close attention: right at the end, after she says, "You wouldn't understand."
Sabine goes from steely-eyed determination to . . . something that looks a lot like surprise. And a hint of realization.
It's like what she said or how she said it just surprised her. It's just the slightest lifting of the eyebrows and widening of the eyes but . . . that's how it looks to me.
Sabine, as stated earlier in the episode, is not one for self-reflection. But here, in this confrontation with her old foe, she ,maybe, partially, realizes something about herself here.
What could it be? Personal interpretation: that her reasons for finding Ezra are not so cut-and-dried as she once thought. That there are deeper forces in motion, driving her forward.
To know thyself is the beginning of wisdom.
- Socrates
I've talked about this before that Sabine not understanding herself - and not being in tune with her feelings - is a huge reason for her actions in the show. And because she lacks this self-awareness, her judgment going forward will remain clouded.
(Which is, you know, not good for a Jedi.)
I know I'm treading close to dangerous waters here . . . but I'm coming from the perspective of someone who watched Rebels and saw Sabine and Ezra as wholly platonic. Deeply, truly, best of friends.
And now, after having watched Ahsoka, I don't see that as being the case anymore. At least for Sabine. It's different now.
There is something more going on here. It's been talked about and analyzed before in this fandom by smarter people, but there's quite a number of scenes that dance around the subject of Sabine's feelings towards Ezra.
It's never addressed head-on but acknowledged, indirectly, by four other notable characters -
Ahsoka
Baylon Skoll
Thrawn
Shin Hati
Ahsoka comes the closest, telling Sabine she knows how much Ezra means to her - but also warning her to put her 'personal feelings' for him aside to service a greater good.
Baylon Skoll says Sabine's 'focus' on Ezra blinds her. And, you know, tempting her with, "Do it. For Ezra." at the end of Episode 4.
Thrawn - well, we discussed him already. "Gambled the fate of your galaxy on that belief," what a line. It goes so hard, I love it so much.
And, interestingly enough, Shin Hati also indirectly acknowledges it with the casual observation: "the one she so desperately seeks".
(Hera also clocks Sabine from the get-go, knowing precisely how to hook her in to working with Ahsoka again. "She'll do it for Ezra.")
It's the rancor in the room! They're talking around it, but never directly addressing it!
These dialogues they have about Sabine and her feelings for Ezra - it's so similar to how someone tries to describe the shape of something but it's obscured or hidden, you know?
You get a detail here and there - bits and pieces of a larger, more coherent picture, but never the whole thing.
That's what it feels like to me, in terms of the dialogue; like they can't quite grasp what she's feeling/what's driving her, but catch just enough to make a close estimation.
(I can't tell if any of this is intentional and it's driving me nuts. What are you playing at, Filoni.)
Sabine does get past her fear of losing Ezra with her decision to stay on Peridea with Ahsoka, though. However, much as that is a pleasing 'full circle' moment for her character arc in this season, there's still greater tragedy on the horizon -
Because Ezra still doesn't know what she did to find him. It's one thing to lose someone physically, as in death, but to lose them in the sense of a relationship: a foundation of trust, respect, and love is uniquely devastating.
That's one of my main issues with the ending for Ahsoka. Sabine's arc rings a little hollow because she didn't open up to Ezra like she should have. That was the real test, I think, and she failed.
It's going to be a never-ending cycle if she doesn't come to understand herself and her feelings.
One of Ahsoka's main themes is actually breaking cycles, it seems. Baylon wants to break the cycle of never-ending wars plaguing the galaxy.
Ahsoka wants to break the cycle of darkness inherent in her Jedi lineage; she stops Sabine's training precisely because of this fear that her pupil will turn to the dark side.
And Sabine wants to stop the cycle of loss that's been all too prevalent in her own life.
Baylon thinks he's found the 'start' of his cycle which has something to do with the Mortis gods.
Ahsoka came to terms with Anakin's legacy and is coming around to mend the relationship between herself and Sabine . . . but Thrawn's pointed observations in the finale and her reaction to them still show that's something she will continue to struggle with.
Also, judging by the expression from hearing this conversation, Sabine doesn't know about Anakin or how his legacy has cast this large, looming shadow over their master-apprentice relationship. So Ahsoka has still yet to properly break that cycle if she does not open up to Sabine about why she stopped her training.
(Or how Ahsoka is afraid of Sabine's potential should she fall to the dark.)
As for Sabine . . . she never told Ezra the truth. About any of it. And the loss she truly fears may yet come to pass as a result.
Breaking cycles is all about knowing thyself.
For Sabine, that means coming to terms with how she really feels about Ezra. Being honest with him about everything . . . and willing to let him go, if that's what it comes to.
I don't know how you repair a relationship after committing such a terrible act.
I've literally written several fanfics regarding the consequences and potential angst of how Ezra and Sabine could fix things.
(And I'm still writing them now, I promise! Right after finishing this. And getting some sleep.)
It's Sabine and Ezra. She loves him. Doesn't matter how you interpret it, that's a fact.
And he loves her. Maybe even enough where he can "love her more than anything she could do wrong", which I'm paraphrasing from Andor.
(It's such a great line. Up there with my favorite from Doctor Who: "Do you think I care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference?")
Star Wars is all about that, right? About how it's never too late to make amends; that love can turn back the darkness and drive out hate. It's one of the reasons why we love this franchise so much.
It shows that we can always forgive and love each other and fight for each other, no matter how far off the path we have wandered.
They'll find their way back to each other. Not because of the Force; because it's those two.
#sabine wren#sabezra#ezra bridger#ezrabine#star wars rebels#star wars#ahsoka show#ahsoka#natasha liu bordizzo
70 notes
·
View notes
Photo
here’s the NYtimes interview with alan alda reflecting on the fiftieth anniversary of M*A*S*H (text below the cut)!!
By Saul Austerlitz
Published Sept. 16, 2022 Updated Sept. 17, 2022, 1:10 p.m. ET
When we think of the default mode of much of contemporary television — mingling the tragic and the offhand, broad comedy and pinpoint sentiment — we are thinking of a precise mixture of styles, emotions and textures first alchemized by “M*A*S*H.”
Created by Larry Gelbart and Gene Reynolds, “M*A*S*H” aired on CBS from 1972 to 1983. (It is currently available to stream on Hulu.) Over the course of its 11-year run, it featured alcohol-fueled high jinks and other shenanigans alongside graphic surgical sequences and portrayals of grief, blending comedy and drama in a fashion rarely seen before on television. Set among the doctors and nurses of a Korean War mobile surgical unit, “M*A*S*H” made use of the mockumentary episode decades before “The Office” ever tried it, featured blood-drenched story lines long before “The Sopranos” and killed off beloved characters without warning well before “Game of Thrones.”
The “M*A*S*H” series finale, titled “Goodbye, Farewell, and Amen,” remains the most-watched non-Super Bowl program ever broadcast on American TV. The heart of the series was Alan Alda, who played the acerbic and devoted surgeon Hawkeye Pierce throughout the show’s more than 250 episodes and also wrote and directed dozens of them.
The actor revisited “M*A*S*H” in a video interview ahead of the show’s 50th anniversary, on Sept. 17. Alda, 86, who was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease in 2015, discussed famous scenes, the series’s battles with CBS (“They didn’t even want us to show blood at the beginning”) and why he thinks the audience connected so deeply with “M*A*S*H.” These are edited excerpts from the conversation.
How have you been feeling?
Good, thank you. You mean with regard to Parkinson’s or the Covid or what?
All of the above, I suppose.
Parkinson’s I’m on top of. And I haven’t come down with Covid yet.
What does it mean to you to know that people are still interested in “M*A*S*H” 50 years later?
I got the script submitted to me when I was making a movie in the Utah State Prison. And it was the best script I had seen since I’d been in prison. I called my wife and I said: “This is a terrific script, but I don’t see how I can do it. Because we live in New Jersey, and it has to be shot in L.A. And who knows? It could run a whole year.” To go from that to 50 years later, it’s still getting, not only attention but it’s still getting an audience, is a surprise.
What kinds of conversations did you have with Larry Gelbart before the show began?
With “All in the Family,” I think the door was open to doing stories about things that really mattered. So when I got out of prison and went down to L.A. to talk to them, the night before we started rehearsing the pilot, I wanted us all to agree that we wouldn’t just have high jinks at the front. That it would take seriously what these people were going through. The wounded, the dead. You can’t just say it’s all a party. And we talked until about 1 in the morning at a coffee shop in Beverly Hills.
Do you feel there was a shift over the first season away from the booze-fueled humor of the early episodes?
Yeah, there was. Partly because people who were submitting story lines thought that that’s what was wanted. Larry Gelbart rewrote most of the shows the first season. Midway through the first season, there was a show called “Sometimes You Hear the Bullet,” and that was a real turning point. Because in that show, a friend of Hawkeye’s shows up among the wounded, and he dies on the operating table. That’s the moment where McLean Stevenson [as Lt. Col. Henry Blake] says: “There’s two rules in war: Young men die, and then Rule 2 is there’s nothing you can do about it.” Something like that. [The exact quote: “There are certain rules about a war. And rule No. 1 is young men die. And rule No. 2 is, doctors can’t change rule No. 1.”]
The network was furious about this. Some guy in charge of programming said, “What is this, a situation tragedy?” Soon after that, we were getting more popular. And the more popular you get, the less they complain.
Was CBS also concerned about the language used to tell these stories?
The most striking example to me was early in the series. Radar [Gary Burghoff] is explaining to somebody that he’s unfamiliar with something. And he said, “I’m a virgin at that, sir.” With no sexual context. It was just that he’d never done something before. And the CBS censor said: “You can’t say the word ‘virgin.’ That’s forbidden.” So the next week, Gelbart wrote a little scene that had nothing to do with anything. A patient is being carried through on a stretcher. And I say, “Where you from, son?” And he says, “The Virgin Islands, sir.”
Early in the show’s run, Gelbart and Reynolds went to South Korea and recorded 22 hours of interviews with doctors, nurses, pilots and orderlies there. How did those interviews make their way into story lines for the show?
We had reams of transcripts of those conversations. I would go through them looking for ideas for stories. And I could see that the other writers were doing the same thing, because there’d be circles around sentences and words. Sometimes one little phrase would spark the imagination of one of us, and that phrase could turn into a story.
Larry and Gene went to Korea at the end of the second season, and they got a lot of material for stories. But they had also found that we had, by paying attention to the lives that they lived, we had made up stories that were very similar to things that had actually happened.
People may not remember that you directed 32 episodes of “M*A*S*H” and wrote 19 episodes. How did you start getting interested in writing and directing?
At the end of the first season, I wrote a show called “The Longjohn Flap.” I borrowed the idea of “La Ronde,” but made it long johns instead because it was reflective of what their lives were like in the cold. I had been trying to learn writing since I was 8 years old. I wanted to be a writer before I wanted to be an actor.
Were there story lines that you thought “M*A*S*H” hadn’t quite tackled yet that you wanted to bring into the world of the show as a writer and director?
When I wrote, I tried to find out a little bit more about each of the characters. Who is Klinger [Jamie Farr] really? What was underneath — I almost said, what was underneath the dresses. [Laughs.] What was underneath the wearing of the dresses? Who was Margaret [Loretta Swit]?
I see on the internet that people assumed that because I was politically active, trying to get the Equal Rights Amendment passed, that in my writing I was trying to make political points, too. And I wasn’t. I really don’t like writing that passes as entertainment when it’s really propaganda. I want to hear a human story.
The unexpected death of Colonel Blake (McLean Stevenson) in the Season 3 finale, “Abyssinia, Henry,” remains one of the biggest surprises in television history. What was it like to shoot that sequence?
Gelbart showed me the scene. I think [it was] the morning of the shoot. I knew, but nobody else knew. He wanted to get everybody’s first-time reactions. And it really affected Gary Burghoff on camera. I think everybody was grateful for the shock.
It shocked the audience, too. I had a letter from a man who complained that he had to console his 10-year-old son who was sobbing. But it was one of the ways for the adults in the audience to realize that another aspect of war is that things happen that you don’t expect.
Was there ever a point when you got tired of fighting the Korean War on TV? The old joke is the show lasted almost four times as long as the actual war.
Around a year before we finally ended it, I felt we were getting toward the end of our ability to be fresh every week. I started suggesting that we do a final movie-length episode that really could end it. First of all, we were getting too old to play these people. And after you tell stories about a group of people 250 times, it’s hard not to repeat yourself or say things that sound like they’re supposed to be funny but aren’t really.
What did it mean to you to have Hawkeye leave Korea scarred by the death of a child in the final episode?
You just described exactly what I wanted to do with all the characters on the show. I was looking for stories, each in a different way, that showed how everybody left the war with a wound of some kind. Everybody had something taken from them. And Hawkeye was just one of them.
Earlier in your career, you had been on another great military comedy, “The Phil Silvers Show,” also known as “Sergeant Bilko.” What did you learn about acting from your pre-“M*A*S*H” TV work?
The first thing I learned on the “Bilko” show was you have to know your lines before you go in for the day’s work. I had come from the stage, where I would learn my lines during rehearsal. And the first thing they did is say, “OK, you’re up for your phone conversation,” where it’s a page of dialogue. It was an eye-opening experience. [Laughs.] I staggered through that.
Why do you think the audience connected so deeply with “M*A*S*H”?
Aside from really good writing and good acting and good directing, the element that really sinks in with an audience is that, as frivolous as some of the stories are, underneath it is an awareness that real people lived through these experiences, and that we tried to respect what they went through. I think that seeps into the unconscious of the audience.
They didn’t even want us to show blood at the beginning. In the pilot, the operating room was lit by a red light, so you couldn’t tell what was blood and what wasn’t. Which, once we got picked up, was ditched.
And giving us a feel for the circumstances that the real people had to go through, so that you could see that the crazy behavior wasn’t just to be funny. It was a way of separating yourself for a moment from the nastiness.
You can’t get as harsh as it really was.
Correction: Sept. 16, 2022
An earlier version of this article described in error the viewership statistics for the series finale of “M*A*S*H.” It was the most-watched non-Super Bowl program ever broadcast on American television, in terms of total audience, not the highest-rated non-Super Bowl program. A rating refers to the percentage of TV households that watch a program. The “M*A*S*H” finale remains the highest-rated program, of any kind, ever broadcast on American television.
544 notes
·
View notes
Note
just had this idea and couldnt not share it:
Going to the studio one day w/ Matty and seeing them work so passionately and excitedly. Maybe your eyes drift to Matty’s hands as he is speaking or touching dials on the sound board. Your mind starts racing and suddenly you need him now. You try to get his attention and he keeps brushing you off saying he has to finish the part he thought of until in front of everyone he hears a firm “Matthew Healy.” With that, he knows what’s happening and he makes everyone take lunch. You can come up with the rest, whether he is dom/sub and just exactly HOW you need him.
idk thought this could be a fun little thing to write :)
OKAY BUT PLEASE THIS PLAYS RIGHT INTO MY FANTASY!!! Cuz have y’all heard those two “Tape Notes” episodes?! NOTHING is hotter to me than when Matty talks about how some songs were made. And like, I only play guitar, so I don’t really know that much technical stuff about music production but it’s still SUCH A turn on. Just how much he loves his job and how if the drums are even a notch too loud/ too low, he hates it. AND if the guitar is “too perfect” he won’t let it go. It has to sound a little bit warped. His whole “faded splendor” bit that he loves to bring up in every interview. Ugh. So. Fucking. Sexy. So, yeah, I’d imagine if he ever brings his partner around the studio, it would be….a lot.
Like imagine watching him sit there, between the mixing board on one side, and the big computer on the other. And he’s just in his chair, wheeling back and forth between the two, testing out different variations, asking George why it’s not quite right yet.
George is just like “okay, how about we loop the drum track so it keeps playing throughout the song.”
But Matty immediately scuffs, hating the idea. “That’s just lazy musicianship. If the emotion shifts and the words change, the melody has got to change with it. Don’t go with the easy option.”
George is frustrated. “I wasn’t bein’ lazy; I was keeping literally the one thing you said you liked about the arrangement. The fuckin drums.”
Matty frowns, deep in thought, picking at his lower lip, a subconscious habit he doesn’t realize he’s doing half the time. “Nah, there’s something else we haven’t thought of. Let me hear it again?” And he puts the headset on, but only one ear, so he could leave the other ear available to George as they talk through it.
“Don’t like it. Nope. It just sounds too put together. I hate that.”
“I know. I get that. I just don’t know what would make it less crisp without- like getting in the way of the song.”
At this point, she’s melting, obviously. She’s way past listening to their actual conversation, and is just watching Matty’s fingers push the buttons on the mixing board, wishing that the machine were her body instead. Memorizing the way his fingers slide the dial from one side to the other to create that distorted effect that he wants, and imaging instead that he is sliding his finger down her body, anticipating him touching her core. She shudders slightly, reminding herself that there’s people around.
She decides he needs to be as worked up as she is. So she walks over to him, hugging him from the back of the chair, sliding her hands down his chest and kissing his earlobe seductively whispering something about taking a quick break to “refresh” his mind and body. He’s too in the zone to catch onto her innuendo, though, so he shrugs her off, mumbling something about how taking a break and interrupting the process would be the absolute worst thing he could right now. He’s just on the cusp of a break through, he can FEEL it. He just needs to put things together the right way.
His absent-mindedness is weirdly even more attractive to her. The fact that his mind could be so absorbed in something that he loses his sense of his surroundings makes her heart swell and the rest of her body get turned on. Maybe it’s the joy written all over his face when he’s engaged in something that he so clearly loves, maybe it’s the way he completely opens up when working, whatever it is, it’s HOT as fuck and it makes her want him more.
She keeps trying. She scoots her seat next to his, brushing her arm against his as he squints into the screen, fiddling with the production software, having taken over from George. She brushes his curls out of his eyes so “he can see better.” But nothing is working. So, finally, he’s out of subtle tricks. She has to resort to blunt honesty. She takes a deep breath, standing up with a hand on her hip and yelling out “Matthew Timothy Healy! What on earth is wrong with you? I’m trying to fuck you over here!”
Matty finally looks up, taking the headset off his ears and holding in a giggle. He looks at her, winks, and turns to the guys. “George…you guys are….hungry right now, yeah?”
George takes the hint and rounds everyone up and they all leave. The door is barely closed behind them before Matty springs to action, hoisting her up by the waist, and setting her onto the desk. Apparently, her willingness to announce to the world that she wants him to rail her to death is as attractive to Matty as his passion is to her. So he gets right to it, knowing that she’s been ready and desperate for a minute now.
His hands are shoddy, just grabbing and squeezing wherever they land, kisses whiny, swallowing each others high-pitched moans. He alternated between kissing and biting down her body, to keep her on her toes. Just when she thinks she’s got his pattern down, he changes things up. He all but tears her shirt apart, taking her nipple into his mouth, sucking, causing her to cry out. His hand is on the other breast, squeezing, pinching, scratching. Her brain goes into overdrive r from the mixture of sensations. Some soft, some rough, some tingle, some hurt. She can’t keep up, and when he’s ready to make her cum, he pushes her to lay down on the table. She mumbles something about laying on top of his expensive equipment and he says he doesn’t care.
“You don’t; but George might.”
“Oh, whatever. That mixing board is mine anyway.”
When he pushes her arms above her head to hold her wrists in place as he fucked into her, one of her fingers accidentally turns the recording button on. Matty’s too caught up in making absolutely sure he makes it hard for her to stand after this, to notice what’s happened. So as she whines, begs, and chants his name, the computer is getting it alllllll on record. When they’re eventually done, and Matty is kissing all the spots on her body where he might have left bruises, he notices the green light is on, which indicates recording. He laughs, and goes to the computer to click “play” on the file.
She’s stunned in place. Her hand goes to cover her mouth. Her face is turning every shade of every color in embarrassment, but Matty is absolutely loving it. He clicks “save.” And she squeals and yelps and kicks her feet and wants to kill him.
But he’s all like “well, listen, this might just be the missing ingredient that we’ve needed all day.”
Yeah….I think about studio Matty a lot.
#matty healy#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy fanfic#matty healy x reader#matty healy x y/n#matty healy x you#matty healy smut
127 notes
·
View notes
Note
I haven’t watched The Bear yet so I could be very wrong but Carmy seems like the type to like it when you talk back to him just a bit like it would grate his nerves but when you push he can push back until idk he ends up bending you over like “if you wanted me so bad you could have just said so” and I….I’m blaming you for making me thirst but goddamn I’m real excited to see the hype for real! 😌
OH YEAH
Naauurrr because I will inflict the Carmy thirst on everyone idgaf 🤪🤪
There's a lot of pushing and screaming until the breaking point in this show, and Carmy definitely participates in that looolll. And since he's the 1st chef and he gives out orders, he's always pushing to see how long someone will defy his authority. And you being a stubborn little shit, you just like riling him up
It all started in the morning, with you refusing to do the vegetable prep because you were too busy doing sauce prep. Carmy had already annoyed you beforehand, waking you up at 2 am because of his insomnia, so now you wanted to make him pay
"Ok then Chef, do a double prep!"
"Carmen you can clearly see that I can't do double prep right now!"
"Oh my god, just say Yes Chef, chef.?"
"Chef. I'm sorry, but I can't fucking double prep, Chef."
"Chef; stop giving me an attitude. We all have fucking work to do. Tina is doing a double prep too so I don't know why the fuck you can't do double prep!"
"Carmen just shut the fuck up and let me do my thing! Damm!"
Both of you go at it, all while cooking and prepping, until Sydney comes in to calm the whole situation down.
"I told y'all it wasn't a good idea to have an almost married couple in the kitchen, but of course, no one is gonna listen to good old Richie uh?"
You and your boyfriend groaned and said in unison: "fuck off Richie"
Later in the day, Carmen calls you in his office for a meeting, clearly annoyed with your antics. When you come in, you're greeted with the delicious sight of Carmy spread out on the chair, his fingers running across his thighs and through his hair.
"Babe. You know I'm busy, what's u-"
"Really, y/n, for the sake of all of us, stop trying to question everything I ask you to do. It completely breaks the dynamic of the day! You're here, giving me-"
"Oh fuck off Carmen! You knew damn well I couldn't double prep this morning! Those sauces take forever and I need to watch the temperature the whole time!Because the thing is, if I double prep, then I can't properly focus on the sauce, and if I dont then I ruin the sauce, and then, you're fucking rude to me cause *Oh my god chef, start over.*; like it wasn't the thing I was about to fucking do!"
Your voice pitched high, and your chest was heaving, and if he was being completely honest, Carmy's brain stopped working and he was thinking with his dick, which was straining against his jeans at the most inconvenient of times.
“Baby…”
“No no no Carmy, don’t baby me. You and your huge ego can go fuck each other because you don’t follow the rules of *no screaming* at me in the kitchen! You don’t! You just prance around cause you’re the owner of the place and you don’t have any consideration for anyone else than you and your dick and you seriously need to back off cause you’re embarr-“
He slowly got up, stalking you down and back you against the table.
“What else baby? Tell me more…”
You scoffed
“Oh you fucker. You’re getting one outta this huh? You dirty fuck! I’m trying to have a serious-
“More or so rambling, not very serious”
“A SERIOUS conversation with you, and you just wanna get your dick sucked!”
“Bae. Baby. Love of my life. I know that if I put my hands down your pants, you’d be fucking wet too. I know you get a ride outta this too, so don’t try me.”
His tattooed hand grabbed your neck, and a devilish grin formed on his face.
“Carmy… baby, we don’t have time for th-“
“Shhh, lemme make you feel good, ‘kay?”
You nodded sheepishly, biting your lip. He turned you around, so that your ass was against his hips.
“Fuck.. you drive me crazy Carmy…”
He kissed your neck, pulled your pants down, and took his dick out. He swiped the tip against your pussy, grinning when your juices were already glistening.
“Huh. You’re so wet, just like I thought. If you wanted me so bad you could’ve just said so… now try to be quiet baby cause I’m about to rock your shit…”
—
EHEHEEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHEH😈😈😈
#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto smut#carmen berzatto concepts#carmen berzatto x reader#amalia 🥺🤎#thots 😈#asks
635 notes
·
View notes
Note
You’re very strange. Sid isn’t a poc, her voice actress is a white woman, and Saw has been portrayed as a negative character before TBB came out, yet y’all sit on this app and use TBB as a scapegoat for deeply rooted racism within Disney that’s been there for 50+ years. If you don’t like TBB bc of all the reasons you say, stop watching Disney shows as a whole. Mind you, one of the main characters of the show you fav so much (Mandalorian) had a GENUINE racist woman on there for two seasons, or let’s speak on Ahsoka which has a transphobic actress playing her. Let’s also remember how John Boyega and Moses Ingram were treated as well. TBB has its own problems, but it’s funny how y’all ignore real world racism with real people.
are you. fucking serious.
first of all, sid does count as a “poc” (the term poc barely exists outside of america and white dominated countries, but what i’m saying is that sid is not the equivalent to a white woman). no alien is white. just because someone’s actor is white doesn’t mean the character, especially since it’s an alien, is white. (not to mention that sid’s characterization is an antisemetic stereotype). hell, pedro pascal considers himself a white latino and din djarin is still a poc character. and yeah saw has been portrayed in a negative view but that’s because everyone else is seen as an angel and all pure and morally correct, while making saw a bad guy for doing things to the extreme, which is absolutely necessary when it’s for the greater good for the rebellion. just because i don’t like tbb doesn’t mean suddenly i can’t enjoy other shows. you sound so fucking stupid right now.
and hey, using the mandalorian against me isn’t gonna work 💀💀 i’ve made my fair share about how racist the show is as well, bringing up bo-katan and her racism (and extremism, but she gets to be celebrated and adored for it, while saw gerrera just gets more racism for it) and how the show uses and discards polynesian culture, which is what mandalorians are based on, to the directors liking. i’ve spoken up a MILLION times about the problems in a million different shows, even my favorites, because just bc i like something doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be criticized when something about it may be harmful to real life audiences getting represented (or not represented) that way.
i don’t know anything about ahsoka or her actress so i can’t speak on that, but if you look through my ahsoka posts, i haven’t been exactly praising the show either 💀 i’ve been giving it criticism as well, especially for it’s visuals and it’s choice in actors that were hired.
i don’t “ignore” real world racism, i obviously fucking care about it, since it affects me and so many other people in the world, but this is a star wars blog. i talk about star wars and it’s media and criticize it when i see something wrong with it and i state my opinions. fiction reflects reality, and vice versa, so even if the problems in this fictional show, tbb, aren’t “technically” real, it can still harm real people who watch that and see themselves represented in a bad way or in an inappropriate manner. being represented on screen is something so special and seeing all the racism that goes on in that show is truly fucking awful.
this is why i hate fucking talking about this show. because y’all bad batch supporters are SO quick to defend your show, y’all come into my inbox and talk shit. no one said you can’t enjoy some aspects. but you need to know how this show can harm people irl with the things that happen in it, reflecting upon reality.
#i fucking hate it here.#i hate this fucking fandom#i’m so close to fucking dropping everything#star wars#the bad batch#the mandalorian#ahsoka#oil.
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
love language: acts of service
Robert Townsend x reader
“Which one is it?”
The paralyzing numbness temporarily escapes by his inquisition, causing you to visibly shake off the feeling of despondency and quickly stand up from your spot on the bed.
“Oh—It’s the purple bottle, inside the medicine cabinet.”
Robert seemed startled that you answer the question from the bathroom doorway, when he was sure he was very insistent that you remained on the bed.
“I thought I told you—“
He sighs, realizing the incoming argument wasn’t worth it, silently opening the cabinet and scanning the shelves for the purple bottle.
“I’m sorry.”
You whisper, and before he can even ask what for, you ramble on.
“This is…I’m totally fine.”
He notices how you say it, as if you were convincing yourself of such a thing. You enter the bathroom fully, heading towards the sink and picking up the jar of cotton balls off the counter. Now standing next to Robert, you can feel his eyes on you, very adamant that you knew he was staring at your face, waiting for your next move.
“I said I had it.”
He reiterates, grabbing the remover and closing the cabinet door over, and you find it easier now to watch him through the mirror rather than face him directly.
“You don’t have to—“
“I want to.”
He sticks his hand out, fingers curling as if to wordlessly say ‘hand it over’, gesturing towards the cotton balls in your grasp.
You in turn sigh, giving him the cotton balls.
“Sit down on the edge of the bath, would you? Let me do something for you, for once.”
When you walk past the mirror, you catch yourself in the reflection, appalled at the streaks of black that run down your rosy cheeks.
“You’re acting like you’ve never cried before, y/n.”
“I haven’t, not in front of you.”
“So, what about it?”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“Says you.”
“I’m an absolute mess, and you’ve already put up with enough of my nonsense tonight.”
“I think I’m the judge of that, and I don’t agree.”
Robert joins you on the edge of the tub, though he sits so one foot was inside the shower, and the other remained on the tile floor.
“I just pour it on these?”
This causes you to crack a smile, and though his question was serious, it delights him to see such an expression back on your face.
“I can show you,”
He rolls his eyes, but relents.
Once the cotton was saturated enough, with as much care as he could, Robert began to gently wipe away the makeup that stained your face.
“Robbie?”
You start, eyes fluttering shut as the remover runs across your lashes. Robert’s eyebrow raises, but hums in acknowledgment.
“Thank you.”
You nearly shudder at the way his left hand comes to cradle your cheek, thumb pressed gently yet firmly right below your cheek bone. His touch his cold, yet you’re sure he’d warm up quickly just by how red your face was getting.
“Do you feel any better?”
“Hm? Yes.”
“Good.”
There’s a pause.
“I haven’t the slightest why you wear this stuff. It’s like permanent marker, y/n, it’s everywhere.”
Your whole face breaks out in a smile.
“That’s what happens when you cry in mascara.”
“Is that what this is?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t wear it ever again.”
You go to open your eyes, when his right hand comes to settle on your unoccupied cheek, holding your face firmly in his hands.
“You’re beautiful just the way you are, y/n.”
Finally, your eyes blink open.
“Thank you Robbie, I love you so much.”
In a moment of pure clarity, Robert bobs his head twice in agreement.
“And I, y/n, do love you so much as well.”
#sul writes#amc turn#turn amc#turn washingtons spies#turn: washington’s spies#turn robert townsend#robert townsend#robert townsend x reader#robert townsend headcanons#Robert Townsend imagine#turn washington's spies
19 notes
·
View notes
Note
February 2004
WIP asks but it's just the various sections of my happy (???) beville (/angsty carraville) WIP
ohohoho I loooove this section tbh. not sure WHY i love it but I do it's got it all it's got angst it's got fluff it's got gary being pathetic.... beautiful
---
February, 2004.
“Are you at Old Trafford yet?”
“Still in the car, we’re not due out on pitch for warm-up for another hour still.”
On the other side of the car’s back seat, Scholesy is sat slumped against the window, staring out with a bored expression. There’s no music playing – they can never agree on what radio station to tune to, and Gary spends most drives to matches on the phone with Becks anyway. He feels a bit guilty, though, ignoring him the whole drive, even if they have spent all morning together.
“Tell me when you get there, yeah?”
“Becks, I swear, you’re worse than my dad. I’ve only been doin’ this ten years, haven’t I? I’ll give the finger to one of the cameras just for you, how’s that sound?”
Next to him, Scholesy groans.
“Don’t, Gaz,” he says, “you’ll get fined.”
At the same time, down the phone Becks is saying “not sure that’s worth the fine, babe.”
“The two ‘a yous are always ganging up on me, it’s not fair.”
“Tell Scholesy I’m giving him a big wet kiss next time I see him.”
“I’m not tellin’ him that.”
“Is he threatenin’ to kiss me again? Tell him I’ll drop out of England squad next week if he does that.”
“Scholesy says he can’t wait to give you a nice big snog when we get to London on Monday.”
David laughs, pretty and perfect and it makes Gary’s chest ache just hearing it, makes him wish they could just skip the stupid match and get to Monday already.
“Good luck today, Gaz,” he says warmly, “you’ll smash ‘em, I know you will. I love you.”
Gary pulls a face at that, aware that Scholesy is watching him, that he can see his blush creeping up and know exactly what David’s saying to him. These things have always seemed to come so easily to David, it’s baffling. The first time he’d told Gary he loved him, a million years ago, Gary had blinked and said ‘do you fuck’, then spent the next ten minutes scrambling to assure him that he knows, that he knows, that there’s been no lack of affection on David’s part to make him doubt it. That he loves him too.
“Yeah,” he says now, darting his eyes towards Scholesy who looks away, pretends not to be listening. He clears his throat. “You too.”
*
When they walk into Old Trafford, the receptionist at the staff entrance calls for him to wait a second before going through to the dressing room. In the blink of an eye, Gary finds his arms being loaded up with chocolates, and roses, and a stupid little teddy bear with the Manchester United crest on it.
He shuffles into the dressing room awkwardly, struggling to see around the giant bouquet, and just as he’d expected (dreaded) he’s met with teasing cheers and wolf-whistles when he walks in and drops them into his locker.
He snaps his phone open and texts David ‘you are horrible <3’, before looking around the room with a glare and saying “not a fucking word”.
“Look at you, Nev,” Butty says with a grin, because he never just keeps his mouth shut. “You’re more popular than Giggsy, who’d’ve thought?”
Giggsy raises an eyebrow. “Is he fuck, those are obviously just long-distance guilt gifts. I’m the one who actually has a chance of getting laid tonight.”
Gary looks down at the floor, scratches at his head awkwardly. “I think he jus’ doesn’t want me feelin’ bad that we can’t do any of the Valentines nonsense this year.”
He swear he sees Roy lean towards John and mutter “he’s feeling guilty about something, that’s for sure”. But what would that even mean?
*
He should be focused on the game. He’s always focused on the game. Single-minded, that’s him.
Today, though, he can’t stop thinking about what Roy had said, about the concerned look he’d given Becks’ stupid flowers.
Surely, surely he hadn’t meant –
Because why would he even think that?
There’s still a game to win, though, and Gary does try to get on with it. Except that when he dives (yes, he dives, he’s in the penalty box – of course he dives, anyone would) and the City players start yelling at him, he feels everything bubbling up inside him and oh god, the Boss is going to kill him.
He storms back to the dressing room and is tugging off his shirt to go shower when his phone starts ringing, because of course it does. Because, if he was thinking clearly, he’d’ve been worried if it didn’t.
“I was provoked, Becks,” he says when he picks it up, skipping the greeting.
“You silly cow,” Becks replies softly, like he’s not disappointed. Like Gary’s not just put the cup at risk. “No you weren’t. What’d you go and do that for?”
“He –”
“Gaz, that’s a three match suspension.”
Gary’s been a professional footballer for ten years now, he knows perfectly well that he’s going to get a three match suspension, so he’s not sure why Becks feels the need to remind him of it. It’s not the sort of thing he’d rub in his face, when he knows that Gary’ll be getting the hairdryer treatment any minute now. When he knows it’ll mean –
Oh, god.
International break starts on Monday.
“Becks,” he says desperately, apologetically. “Becks, I forgot – I weren’t thinkin’, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, it doesn’t have to mean – I can still come down, with the lads. I know I can’t train, but – but I can still come. We can still –”
“Gaz.” David sighs. “D’you really think the Boss would let you do that?”
Fuck.
*
“Boss,” he says, voice wobbly, “Boss, please. Double my fine, or – or bench me, but please. Just one day, not even that – half a day, and I’d be back for the next morning’s training.”
It feels a similar situation to the one he’d been in last summer, stood alone in front of Sir Alex’s desk with tears streaming down his face and a snotty nose, begging please, Boss, you know how stubborn he can be. He is sorry, it’s been eatin’ him up, he just doesn’t want to look stupid if he apologises and you sell ‘im anyway. You know how much he respects you. This is all he’s ever wanted. Boss, please.
“Gary,” the Boss says slowly, “actions must have consequences.”
I don’t – I can’t do this without him, I’m not good enough. You know I’m not good enough. I’ll do anything. Please, Boss, please.
He remembers the way Sir Alex had looked at him over his glasses, that long calculating stare of his. You assured me this… attachment of yours wouldn’t get in the way of your game.
“Okay,” he says now with a grim nod. “You’re right.” His voice cracks as he talks, so he blinks a few times and repeats “you’re right, I know. I jeopardised the match. I’m sorry.”
Sir Alex nods, and looks down at the papers on his desk, starts shuffling through them. This, Gary knows, is his cue to leave. They’re done here.
I know you don’t owe me anything, but it’s – it’s not just for me. It’s the team, we need him. He’s special, don’t – I know it’s been difficult between you two, but can’t you fix it? If anyone can fix it, surely you –
– You only get this one favour, Gary. Do you understand?
I’ll do anything, just – please. Please don’t sell him.
A one season loan. It’s an excellent opportunity, the chance to experience a new league, a new style of play. Gives our less senior players a chance to earn more minutes. Then he’ll come back, and we’ll all be stronger for it.
And you promise he’ll come back?
I promise he will be given the option. That’s my only offer, lad, not many people could get away with asking this of me.
#when i learnt that after becks went to madrid he and gary would talk on the phone before and after EVERY utd match#it was so over for me. that information WRECKED me. christ.#beville#wip asks
4 notes
·
View notes
Note
“Shoko is once again an interesting character who could add to the dynamic by being incredibly frank and up front about her feelings, and also the fact she thinks two boys who think very highly of themselves ain't shit, but she's just kind of unterutilized.”
Man, if that’s isn’t a common pattern with all the female characters in jjk…
Like I know shonen isn’t that well known for their great female characters’ writing, in fact the only one I can think where all the female characters are well written and have importance is Fullmetal Alchemists, and the author is a woman.
I do heard that Bleach have great female characters, but I haven’t watched/read it so I can’t judge.
Anyway, I’m so disappointed with how Gege is treating the female cast as of late. Like jjk has such good promise during the Kyoto vs Tokyo arc. With the set up of how Nobara’s is being unsympathetic with her black and white thinking. The set up between the nuanced conflict between Mai and Maki! The set up with Miwa on how a normal person would basically be like in the jujutsu world. And they aren’t sexualized! A rarity in shonen!
However, so far only Miwa seems to have a fully fleshed out arc. Like despite her limited screen time, Miwa have went through so much lost and we get to see her thoughts and regrets as a result. We even she her resolve near the end of Shibuya on how she will give it her all!
Compare that to the others… Well Mai’s death personally left a bad taste in my mouth, since not only I found the twins explanation to be terrible but it ruins the whole conflict by having it be simplified in like the worst way possible. “Oh yeah, the reason why you’re not as strong, Maki, is because my coping of the trauma was apparently a bad thing. And my whole existence was the whole reason why you‘lol be forever half-assed, so I’m gonna die now.”
Like… I’m sorry… What?! Talk about victim blaming. Like Mai is actually really interesting, and can be utilized waaaay better than what the manga did. Is the nuanced conflict of the twins reacting/coping with their abuse differently, as two separate people not compelling??? Is the notion of no such thing as a bad victim nor good victim, not the whole point of Maki and Mai??? The twin taboo explanation just spit on the face of all of that!
And also… plot hole much? “In the Jujitsu world, cruse energy treat twins as one”, umm… what about Nanako and Mimiko? Both have vastly different curse techniques! What, are you gonna say that they don’t count since they are a different type of twins? Or like they were never twins?
Not only that, but Nobara is currently MIA, and like… even if she does come back… what’s her personal character arc gonna be about? Since Mai is dead, no one is really going to really challenge her limited world view now. I mean… I suppose there’s Momo, but like… I can’t really see that.
For Maki… I dunno, man. I’m currently on the fence with her current arc. Like, okay… it is very tragic that she wasn’t able to reconcile with Mai on time, and her snapping is a very dark turn for her. But like… the last time we say her, see seems… to be mostly fine? Well, maybe “fine” isn’t the right word… Maki is just… going through the motions? Like… we haven’t seen any negative consequences of her trauma at all yet. And the framing of the manga make it seems like she’s in a positive arc, which I’m not really a fan of.
And now Yuji is gonna be under utilized too, with the current chapter and all…
Ugh. Hopefully they would at least do Maki and Miwa more justice in the future, but I’m keeping my expectations low now.
This is a long post so rather than replying to every single thing you said, I'm going to try to build off what you say for a discussion.
So I've said before in previous asks that while the female characters in Jujutsu Kaisen are kind of all the same type of female character they're all very brash, tough as nails women they are at least three dimensional characters, they have personality and personality flaws.
I think people tend to view characters as entities separate from the work they are a part of. People talk about reading series for their characters, or wanting to think about their faves, or find new blorbos. I sometimes joke that people treat anime and manga more like gacha to find new favorite characters like rolling for an SSR, taking characters outside of their narrative. I think people tend to value like, personality, backstory, things you can still enjoy about a character even as you take them outside of their story.
The female characters in Jujutsu Kaisen are fine characters in their own right. If you take them outside of their stories they have emotional depth. Shoko is someone extremely emotoinally unavailable to the people around her, and only seems to care about her job as a doctor. Utahime is like the one good and responsible teacher in this manga who's adored by her students. Nobara has a clear ego problem, and is extremely self-righteous and feels little to no guilt for killing Choso's brothers in a pretty ruthless way.
Outside of the story they're fine. Inside of their story however, they're not really that important. Which is why I say characters are more than just their personalities or backstories. Characters themselves are stories, the author has to tell us about them in order to make us interested in the stories of their lives. Because anything can be a good idea for a character. It's kind of like how making an original character is one thing, but making a story, setting, and a character arc for that character is an entirely different and usually much hrader thing.
The greatest problem with women in Jujutsu Kaisen is not really that they are bad characters, but that they are badly written. They are not important narrative wise to the story they are a part of. Besides Mai and Miwa none of these characters really have screen time, or anything so basic as a character arc. They especially do not have character progression on the same level as their male counterparts. Like, just for example, all of the new characters introduced in the Culling Games only three of them are female, Kirara, Remi, and Angel. Kirara isn't even brought to fight in the games despite being the girlfriend to Hakari and having her cursed technique shown she has sidelines. Remi is pretty much just a damsel stereotype who's belittled by Megumi a man for being weak. Angel has gotten no screentime so far.
There are female characters who are also like, slaughtered gratuitiously for no other real reason than to just raise the stakes in a pretty shallow way. Sukuna slaughters Nanako and Mimiko in the most hideously brutal fashion, we got really nothing from that character death other than it was visceral and upsetting. Then there is the way Tsukumo Yuki dies, literally being cut in half. What is objectification if not women's bodies being treated as objects on the receiving end of particularly brutal and dehumanizing violence. Like, was there a single male character sans like, the victims of Mahito who was brutalized the way Nanamimiko and Tsukumo Yuki were?
So it's not really a problem with the characters themselves outside of their narrative, but how they are treated by their narratives as less important and more expednable than their male counterparts. Its not even really the fact Nobara isn't like, the chosen one the same way Megumi is, or even obsessed with saving the people the way Yuji is. Nobara could have had as much character depth as Yuji and Megumi if the narrative gave her the same kind of focus and attention they got. There's nobody more stupidly overcomplicated than a normal teenage girl, but Gege is either uninterested or unwilling in exploring her point of view.
We get to a point where women are literally half the population and there's literally like no reason why people should have trouble writing female characters because you know... you write them the same way you would write male characters, they are just people with thoughts and feelings. Yet not only is the point of view of a woman in the world underrepresented it's also treated by the narrative as something like special or different or hard to understand. Which results in a narrative where half of the characters are just... either underdeveloped or unnecessary and that's never a good thing.
#askspookies#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen female characters#tsukumo yuki#jujutsu kaisen spoilers#mai zenin#miwa kasumi
52 notes
·
View notes
Text
Yo-kai Watch 1 But I Rewrote It - Chapter 1
so as i'm sure y'all following me will know by now, i've been rewriting 1 over on ao3. for anyone interested, you can find it here.
to summarize briefly: it's a rewrite of 1 where the main difference is that it's in katie's continuity n she has her yo-kai sensing ability from nyanderful days. also jibanyan moves in with her (though that's irrelevant for now).
i decided to upload this to tumblr too, so here we are! i'm planning on making an index with all the chapters for quick access, but that's not made yet so um. sorry about that ksldfjfksldsfd- though chapter 2 can be found here. but anyways!
Chapter Summary: While catching bugs for her summer project, Katie encounters many odd occurrences... including one that would change her life forever.
Chapter 1 - An Average Day
Katie had always had an odd ability, her whole life. There were always odd, unexplainable things your average person couldn't see or hear or otherwise perceive...
But Katie could. She'd always been able to - why and how, she wasn't sure. Neither of her parents had it, nor did her grandparents from what they were aware.
It gave her a slight interest in the supernatural. Particularly in Yo-kai - mischievous spirits invisible to the naked eye. But, her bigger interest was in bugs - Springdale had lots of them, and lots of kids at her school had at least some interest in them.
Speaking of her friends, Katie was hanging out with her best friends - Nate, Eddie and Bear - at Triangle Park, a small and fittingly triangular playground many kids hung out at.
They were simply chatting about random things before Eddie said he had something to show them, digging through his bag until he pulled out a wooden box with glass on the front, with bugs pinned inside - not just common cicadas, either; there were butterflies, and even a couple of rare beetles. "Ta-da!"
"Whoa!" Katie and Nate both exclaimed.
"Did you catch those all yourself?"
"Yep! My yard attracts a ton of rare bugs," Eddie explained.
"I caught some when he got too squeamish," Bear chimed in before getting elbowed by Eddie, "hey!"
Katie and Nate both chuckled before Eddie turned to face Katie. "Hey, Katie, you're catching bugs for your summer project, right?"
"Erm... yeah," she nodded. In all honesty, Katie hadn't even started - she'd been too distracted with the books about Yo-kai she'd gotten from the school library. Her ability had gotten stronger recently - she kept seeing a small, bipedal red cat with markings walking around, who would always disappear before she could get another glance. A nekomata, it seemed to be, given the signature two flaming tails.
"I bet you haven't even started," Bear teased.
"Yeah. Have you even taken your net out at all this summer?" Eddie chimed in, also teasing.
"Hey, you two aren't being very nice," Nate defensively butted in, "leg pulling or not, it's not very nice."
There was a pause before Eddie broke the silence. "We should all be heading back home now. Seeya guys later!"
"Bye!"
"Seeya!"
Katie waved her friends off before sighing. Eddie and Bear had been right that she hadn't started her summer project - their teasing wasn't even meant to be too cruel, they just ended up taking it too far too often. Part of her had been considering making her summer project about Yo-kai... but the teasing made her determined to finish her bug-catching!
She quickly made her way home, explaining to her mom that she was going out to catch bugs for her project - not before getting scolded for not writing in her summer diary, though.
Once upstairs, Katie grabbed her bag and put in her bug net, a few small plastic bug containers, her diary, and a notebook. The notebook had a few doodles and notes on Yo-kai, both from her books and from her own sightings. She figured she'd bring it just in case she saw something strange.
"Alright, first stop, Triangle Park," she muttered to herself, hoisting her bag over her shoulder. She said bye to her mom before heading out to the playground.
Katie set her bag on the bench, pulling out her net and some of the plastic bug cages. She made her way to one of the trees, which had a few cicadas resting on the trunk; with one foul swoop, she caught a green cicada and quickly put it in the container. It didn't put up a fight at all, oddly enough, while the other cicada had flown away.
Katie managed to catch another cicada before she looked around again. "Guess that's all that's here..."
As she was putting the cages in her bag, she felt an odd aura from the green cicada who hadn't struggled, and saw it glowing. "Whoa... this must be a rare one!" Or something else...
Quickly, she made a note of it in her notebook (odd aura from glowing cicada) before placing the cage back in her bag.
"Hmm... where should I look next," Katie thought for a few seconds, "oh, the school janitor always talks about his bug collection! I should ask him."
She walked over to the schoolyard, waving to a few of her classmates before finding the janitor. "Um, Mr. Janitor? Where's the best place to find bugs."
"Hm... well, I'd say it's probably Mount Wildwood," he answered, "if you're going bug-catching, take some of these," he handed her some containers of what looked to be a black syrup of some sort, "bugs love this syrup - slather some in your net and they'll be more likely to stay caught."
"Thanks!" Katie smiled, putting the syrup containers back in her pocket. She received a "good luck!" from the janitor before heading to Mount Wildwood.
There were many steps leading up Mount Wildwood; allegedly there were ninety-five, and climbing all of them would give you a good education. It was a tiring trek, and Katie took a break between the flights of stairs until she finally reached the shrine.
Mount Wildwood was serene and calming. For the most part, it was still in its natural state - the shrine on top and the abandoned mining tunnels further up the trail were the only industrialization as far as Katie was aware.
"Alright," she muttered, holding her net tight as she went down the stairs to the right of the shrine. There were a few trees she could access - and a fence, which behind it had a giant tree. It was sacred - Katie wasn't fully sure why, but didn't question it, "guess I'll see what I can find around here!"
She slathered some syrup on her net and in the empty containers - it helped her catch more cicadas, though some of them realized what Katie was doing and managed to escape. By the end, she'd caught around five cicadas in total - three green ones and two red ones.
Speaking of green cicadas... Katie pulled out the cicada who had an odd aura. She still sensed the aura, even stronger than before now... it wasn't only from the cicada now. Katie looked around, her eyes catching on the fence that had previously been a barricade from the Sacred Tree - it glowed the same odd glow the cicada had, and had a much stronger aura... and then, it vanished, as if it had never been there in the first place!
"What the..?!"
Katie looked around, putting the cicada back in her bag. Seeing as no one was there...
"Well... guess a little look around wouldn't hurt!" Katie thought out loud, grabbing her net and again hoisting her bag over her shoulder.
She walked into the outcove with the giant tree, looking around. "Hmm... if I were a rare bug-" or a Yo-kai... "-where would I be..."
Katie's thoughts were cut off as she approached the tree - she hadn't quite realized how tall it was from behind the fence. "Whoa..."
But what caught her eye more was the base of the tree - there sat a gachapon machine, which looked very old. "What's this thing doing here-"
It had an aura.
She simply stared at it for a second. "What in the..."
Then a voice burst into song.
"Feed me, feed meeeeee..."
"What?!"
"Feed me, feed me, feed me now!"
Katie was caught off-guard and was hesitant in her next actions. I guess I should... put a coin in?
She searched through her bag for some change, finding some and approaching the gachapon machine. Quickly, Katie shoved the coin in and backed away, shielding her eyes... nothing happened yet, at least.
She cranked the dial on it a few times and a capsule popped out. It looked like it was made of rock, but did have a defined top and bottom.
Katie screwed off the top, and was launched back by the force of... rings made of some sort of light coming out? Through the spiraling rings, Katie could make out... a silhouette?
"Why hello! I'm Whisper - I'm a Yo-kai butler, at your service. Pleased to meet you. Charmed!"
#puppy's yw1 rewrite#yo-kai watch#yokai watch#youkai watch#ykw#yw#yw1#(guess i'll finally tag human characters. it's a christmas miracle. a halloween miracle-)#katie forester#nate adams#eddie archer#bear bernstein#(< those two don't have tags)#whisper#whisper yw#there's others but they're not important enough#puppy rambles
25 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi there! can i just say i’m a big fan of your “if i bleed (you’ll be the last to know)” work!! i just want to take a long minute to gush about all the little details i hyperfixated on.
okok first i have!!! to talk about this title… my god… it.. hurts so good??? (assuming it was from cruel summer by taylor) i love this song so much and have read countless of fics with this same title but none hit the nail on the head quite like yours.. and now i’m listening to the song all over again and my thoughts are filled with how perfect this song and this fic fit together. before i realized you were quoting this song i had just imagined sometime late into spring but now i’m imagining summer and it somehow makes all the smaller moments more intimate to me…
second, i haven’t watched sorry for your loss yet… i’ve been meaning to!! …but i just really don’t do well with grief related shows even though i know it might help me to grow and move past it to learn and see how others cope… but anyway! i’ve gone into this blind pretty much, only knowing that yeah, leigh’s husband passes and there’s something she didn’t know… and i’m not a fan of cheaters and such but something about reading how… selfish.. these characters can be… flawed characters. it just makes it sweeter to read somehow. — especially that little part in part 6(?) where jules mentions how… difficult leigh can be at times since the whole thing.. like gahhhh my brain is like… gnawing and chewing on how… just real you make these characters!!! the emotions you portray through leigh as well!!! like…ahhh!!! i really don’t know what to say it just makes me tug on my hair in a good way… speechless is what you’ve made me! or! or!! oh my god!!! when the reader doesn’t want leigh to hurt any more than she already is and leigh just.. takes the pain and walks with it??? because she’s… stronger than this? because she’s bitter? feels like she has to get back at matt?? and ugh… idkidk really! (i got all that from the anger and the line “i can handle pain just fine.”) like… i’m just. i’m chewing on this like a piece of gum that i don’t wanna spit out. oh!!! and… when she’s mad at… the things that matter… the little things like. how intimate it is for matt to just be there… after that first date… also! i’m a hater!! i’m a lover of the haters (jules!!!) and a hater of the lovers!! meaning, danny!!! i love that you’ve made me hate his character. after seeing how selfish he really is with leigh and.. how much of a tough spot the reader is in…
ok this is getting too long, i apologize. i jus really loved the pacing of the story, the characterizations and everything else… i just love it a lot and i can’t stop thinking about it after every update… because of all the cliffhangers!! anyway. i hope you know your words are loved, author. thank you!!
(ps. my friend saw me typing these paragraphs out and called it a love letter… and this is exactly what it is. a love letter to you, dear author and to your lovely fic. thank you again for writing such a piece and i am absolutely sat waiting for the next part!!!)
Oh my gosh, reading your feedback got me all:
first of all, i want to thank you for this long and adorable message. it's always such an overwhelming and it reminds me one of the reasons why i love writing so much. thank you thank you!
re:title- yes it's from Cruel Summer :)
re: watching Sorry for your loss - honestly, it's not required for you to have seen the show, just that you know the gist of it (Leigh being a young widow). Nothing really goes on--it just paints the process of grief in ordinary life. So you really don't have to see it. Besides, I don't even follow its timeline and relationships to a T.
re: your thoughts on the story- i find myself nodding along the stuff you picked out from the last 6 chapters. Also, I am a hater too (lol), I'm just not very vocal about the things I hate because one of lizzie's character once said: "You think it's cool to hate things. And it's not. It's boring. Talk about what you love and keep quiet about what you don't." But I'm a huge hater. I think we all secretly are.
I think hating Danny is easy in this fic, but I keep trying to find something in him that's relatable, something that just doesn't make him an antagonist. I think it's fair to think that he's also being used by Leigh, being treated unfairly by Leigh. I don't think I really hate Danny here as much as you guys do. I have done awful things when I was younger out of the selfishness of satisfying my own desires. But I'll talk about that some other time and if anyone will ask :P
thank you for your love letter, it means so much and I'm going to keep this in my blog and tag it for what it is. I hope you'll enjoy the rest of the series :)
1 note
·
View note
Last Seen Blogs
lizziksims
LizzikSims
danissedanisse
The Bloggerist
cuteunicornxd-blog
god bless this hot mess
kisena404
Oh boi
askcocoabutter-blog
CocoaButter