#and instead of being like ‘okay we have like ten minutes left’ at some point i was just kind of abruptly cut off lol

[fictioninmyblood]

I Meant That Shit

Summary: N’Jadaka gets tired of waiting for Y/N to forgive him and come home, so he decides to let Killmonger bring her back, kicking and screaming if necessary.

Warnings: 18+, noncon/con, smut, D/s themes, Entitled and pissed Erik being devious. Shouldthere be a warning for angst?

A/N: This was supposed to be short, but here we are. Enjoy my sexually starved thoughts.

A/N: Also, idk if this needs to be said, but I write for my demographic - black females. This has been my disclaimer/notice.

A/N: My work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than this) without my explicit consent and recognition.

After his reluctant rehabilitation, there weren't many things that brought out his killer instinct anymore. However, it seemed that lately, despite all the sparring, therapy, and meditation sessions, Erik couldn’t shake the urge to knock some sense into his girl Y/N. 

A few weeks prior when she told him she needed space and couldn’t stay in Wakanda and ignore her life anymore, he said some things. She took it the wrong way and told him they were over, as if.

When she first left, Erik was sure she’d break down and FaceTime him or use the kimoyo beads he taught her to use. She was always more vocal about missing him, so he just assumed she’d break down and restart their communication. Imagine his surprise when a whole two weeks rolled by without so much as a text, call, or video chat. He was desperate for anything from her, even a verbal lashing, but by the time a month came and went, he felt like a fiend going through withdrawal.

During week six, his excitement to finally lay his eyes on Y/N was quickly cut short when he realized she was still talking to his family even though he had been getting the silent treatment. That displeasing information lit him like a powder keg when he saw another man in Y/N’s background, getting dressed no less. T’Challa dragged him from Shuri’s lab ready to bust a gasket when his babygirl asked Shuri to go into a different room and his little cousin actually listened! His whole family was against him again it would seem.

When T’Challa got him back to his room, all he did was pace. It was ten full minutes of the king warily watching his cousin stew when M’Baku walked right into the line of fire as Erik turned to beat the shit out of his cousin. T’Challa easily dodged the current threat on his life as the giant grabbed Erik’s hands in one of his, quickly disarming him and making the pouting man even more enraged. 

“You all have been talking to her this whole time?” N’Jadaka roared.

“Just Shuri and I. She made us promise to let you figure it out for yourself, but you’ve been failing miserably cousin! Absolutely clueless!” T’Challa replied.

Erik struggled against M’Baku’s vice grip to no avail.

“No shit Sherlock. I’m gonna whoop yawls asses. M’Baku let me go.”

“Not until you promise to have a conversation with your mouth instead of your hands. I am not prepared to get involved in another war between you two.”

Erik took a few deep breaths. “Fine, I’m good.”

Once M’Baku was sure there would be no immediate violence he let go.

“You better start explaining real fucking soon T,” Erik spat, pointing an accusatory finger at T’Challa.

“Okay! Okay! Y/N is struggling to accept that you actually want her around long term!” T’Challa word-vomited.

If the prince wasn’t already enraged, the king and tribal chief would’ve laid out in hysterics at how N’Jadaka’s face screwed up. “How sway! How?!”

“From what Shuri has explained and I’ve gathered in my eavesdropping is that she thinks you only want to claim her without actually growing with her. Everything is on your terms, your way, in  your time. She’s been far more  patient than most would be with you so I can’t say she’s wrong.”

Erik jumped at T’Challa, scaring him and the big gorilla chief. “I oughta beat you up for keeping your mouth shut.”

“She and Shuri threatened me within an inch of my life and they scare me more than you. Besides, according to them, you can’t keep relying on us to figure out what’s going on in your relationship and I couldn’t find a valid disagreement.”

Erik nearly did slap T’Challa at the last sentiment.

“Aye aye!” M’Baku shouted, getting between the two yet again, “He is being truthful now. That counts eh? And if I may interject, I think you’re aiming your anger at the wrong person.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Erik said, deflating under the weight of that truth, “but his ass still bout to pay me back and I know just how.”

————-

A few hours later…

“You know, when I told you that you could pay me back with The Royal Talon Fighter, I didn’t expect you to tag along.”

“Who else was going to keep an eye on our Wakandan technology or keep you from murdering anyone in the vicinity of Y/N, especially any man?”

Erik rolled his eyes and huffed. “I guess.”

“Or Y/N from killing you for just showing up jealous despite being radio silent since long before she left Wakanda.”

“Alright alright! You made your point. Damn! Just drive the fancy metal.”

—

Erik was all confidence until the second they landed in Atlanta. Yeah, Killmonger was out for blood and was ready to bring their girl back kicking and screaming if necessary, but Erik N’Jadaka Stevens? He was a nervous fucking wreck.

T’Challa and M’Baku’s words really struck a nerve and he had nothing but time to stew over them on the ride to your family’s hometown ranch. Before he met you, Killmonger made all the decisions, kept him alive and ahead of the game, whatever game he was surviving at the moment. He lived like that for well over a decade when he met you, but you didn’t bat an eyelash at his swift mood swings, his bloodthirst, or his possessiveness, often putting him in place. You handled him with love and care, showing him how to become the softer version of himself without sacrificing your boundaries too much. He was quickly realizing that he sometimes pushed too hard, took too much, neglected your requirements. It was your stern patience, however, that was enough to allow you to become the first person to get him the person instead of him the killer to come out and communicate, interact, and live rather than survive. 

You did it for him a second time around when he came out of cryo too. He hadn’t told you anything about how he would go about his goals, opting just to disappear and execute so it was a surprise of a lifetime to wake up to your beautiful Y/E/C. After getting over his initial anger over you seeing the worst of him, you were the first person he responded to or let touch him during his recovery. Even going so far as not allowing the medical staff to redress his wounds if he was awake.

Only your touch soothed him, only your voice gave him peace. You made him less of a killing machine and more human again, made him want to address the tsunami of emotions and trauma that he lugged around. He didn’t want to jeopardize your willingness to be that for him but he recognized how you were always giving all you had just to receive an inch of progress from him. If that.

Unfortunately, all of his introspection and nervousness flew right out of the truck T’Challa had them in when he saw you walking up to your personal guesthouse with a man in tow. Killmonger immediately took the reins pushing him and his feelings down into the abyss, and leaping out of the car before T’Challa could come to a complete stop with his cousin calling after him.

“Y/N!” Killmonger shouted from the end of the long-ass driveway, rage evident in his voice.

Y/N was haphazardly trying to get her drunk cousin up the stairs while nervously dropping her keys when she heard Killmonger. She’s only encountered him a few times since meeting Erik, after the first time she brought him back to himself, he did his best to keep that part from her. It didn’t always work since any repressed feeling or issue the man had was poured into his alter ego, feeding his desire to be wild and untamed in his decision-making. So she knew he was out for blood with just the sound of her name.

She got the key in just as Killmonger got to the beginning of her walkway up to the house. As quickly as she could, she pulled her cousin in, slamming and locking the door in her partner’s face, leaving the beast to bang on her door and demand entrance.

“I’m not dealing with your bulldozing tactics Kill! You can come back when Erik is ready to face his fucking feelings and have an adult conversation!”

“If you know what’s good for you and that nigga in there, you better open this ghatdamn door Y/N!” He roared in response.

Y/N’s cousin couldn’t stop laughing, no matter how much she waved him off. Getting trashed 3 nights in a row after a bad breakup and crashing with his favorite cousin after hearing how she was hiding from both the world and the love of her life as well didn’t prepare him for seeing her so out of character. One second she was fleeing from the man, the next she was big and bad from behind a locked door in all her 5’5” glory. It was comical as hell to him.

“You know you look constipated when you cuss? Like that stick in your ass is fighting every syllable.” He said, immediately dying in another fit of laughter at his analogy.

“Who the fuck is that in there with you, Y/N, and don’t fucking lie!”

“The next man. Nice to meet you. You must be the ex.” her cousin shouted out in a drunken slur to Y/N’s horror.

Yeah, she knew she wasn’t in the wrong, and there was no reason to defend herself against this man, but she knew not to press certain buttons once Kill made an appearance. Her cousin, unfortunately, had no discernment to see that he had just pressed the biggest red button Kill had when it came to her.

Y/N watched the myriad of emotions that crossed Erik’s face through the peephole, praying to every ancestor and display of the creator she could think of that this man wasn’t going to go full psycho-killer on them both. The last thing she needed was him taking several steps back in his healing just to unnecessarily add another scar, maybe 2 with how pissed he looked. 

Y/N turned back to her cousin, ready to kill him for putting her in even hotter water, only to find that nigga was sleep, leaving Y/N to deal with the consequences on her own. 

As soon as she had that thought her ears piqued, taking in how silent it had gotten. All she could hear was the crunch of gravel as T’Challa finally pulled in and got out. When she peeked outside the peephole again, she was met with a confused T’Challa looking for Erik.

A chill ran up her spine and her blood ran cold as she slowly turned to her current worst fear; Killmonger pissed as hell, staring her down with a knife to her cousin’s throat.

“Give me one good reason not to paint your brand new carpet with this nigga’s blood Y/F/N then fuck you on the new color.”

Putting her hands up in a placating manner, Y/N slowly inched towards Kill, stopping when he dug the knife just slightly deeper, exposing a thin line of blood, as her cousin slept unawares.

Donning a submissive voice as if she was talking to a wild animal, “Erik, baby calm down.”

“Don’t baby calm down me! You out here giving other niggas what’s mine? Mine Y/N!”

“That’s not–”

“Don’t tell me that’s not what’s going on when you’ve been M.I.Fucking.A. for weeks! And the first thing I see both on video chat and in person is you with some random?! I’ll murder every nigga to ever touch you, keep tryna play me.”

“Nobody’s playing you Daka, look closer, you know him. I promise I haven’t been stepping out on you.” Y/N continued on, internally rolling her eyes at the toddler temper tantrum she had to placate this nigga out of. “My stupidly in love, trying to escape his own heartache, and loves drama when drunk cousin that you have met several times was just egging you on.”

Kill looked closer to the man’s face and released the filter of rage clouding his judgment, upon closer inspection he realized they’d met at several of the many family gatherings he’d attended with Y/N/N. Slowly easing the knife from her cousin’s throat, Erik struggled to fight back tears at his behavior. He was proving he wasn’t good enough for her, he hadn’t actually changed all that much. Kill took the reins once again, unwilling to let him process his feelings of abandonment and betrayal just yet. Rushing towards Y/N, he laid the knife flat on the side of her face, taking up residence on the other side.

Biting a huge hickey along her jawline, before grasping her earlobe in between his teeth, Killmonger growled, “So if you ain’t been fucking him, who you been fucking?”

Although Y/N knew she logically had nothing to feel guilty about, how he was questioning her made her want to lie down and worship him as an apology regardless. She took a deep breath to center herself, understanding that any sign of nervousness would be taken as an omission of guilt.

Y/N ran her hands up his arms and over his shoulder blades to hold his face in her palms. He reluctantly released her earlobe to allow her to face him, naturally allowing the blade to rest against her neck ever so gently.

“N’Jadaka. Erik, baby? Look at me, I have been trying to live without you miserably for the last few weeks. I’ve only been going out since Y/C/N got here and I have to beg for breaks because I’m basically his chaperone. You believe me don’t you?”

Erik looked at her with suspicion clouding his eyes. He dropped the knife and held her throat in his hands, squeezing just tight enough to hint to either pleasure or pain, pushing her against the front door.

“Ion know. Why should I?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Y/N took a chance and palmed his face, caressing his cheekbone with her thumb. “Cause you know that no matter how much you stress me out, isolate yourself from me, or threaten anyone who seems to have more access to me than you, that I love your crazy ass.”

Erik squeezed a little tighter, not enough to hurt her but enough to reassert his dominance. Y/N put a hand over his, doing her best to ground herself in the feeling of his hands rather than how much she wanted to cum from the pressure of them.”

“Sorry,” Y/N squeaked out, “I love every version of you, no matter how threatening any of them may be and I physically can’t stand to have anyone else touch me the way I let you touch me.”

“Say it again.”

“I love you?”

“Nah, princess, the other part.”

“No matter how threatening-” she started, but was cut off by the growl emanating from Erik’s chest and the pulsing release and pressure of him allowing her small gasps of air. “You know what I mean Y/N, don’t test me lil mama.”

Erik held his squeeze on her neck, tilting it ever so slightly to lick the side of her face and hold her earlobe between his teeth, tugging.

Y/N couldn’t hold back the guttural moan if she tried. Just barely keeping her eyes from rolling back and donning her sweetest sub voice, she said, “I physically can’t stand to have anyone else touch me the way I let you touch me big daddy. It literally makes me nauseous.”

Erik released her ear with a wet snap against her face, “It does?”

Y/N hummed and nodded her head as best she could in her current predicament.

Killmonger covered the forgiving face Erik started to make, replacing it with one of his stern, unyielding looks. “Then why you leave me and give me the silent treatment for weeks?”

Y/N whined at the tightening of his hands, closing her eyes to savor the pleasure only he could illicit lighting her body on fire.

Erik bit her bottom lip roughly, nearly drawing blood. “That’s not an answer.”

Losing the battle against her libido and subspace, Y/N whined again.

In a faux sweet voice Erik said, “Awww, is little mama already too far gone in her head thinking about all the ways imma mark you.”

Y/N nodded again, lost in the many images she’d acquired from her sexual experiences with Erik and Kill over the years.

“Good.” And with those words, Y/N was suddenly looking at Erik’s ass and the floor as he stomped upstairs to her bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

He tossed her on the bed and roughly stripped her of her clothes, halter top first, bottoms and panties all in one fell swoop last, leaving her heels on.

He positioned her over his knee and popped her cheeks until her bottom was flushed with his favorite shade of reddish purple and warmed his hands with the heat she emanated.

By the time he was done, Y/N wanted to be a ball of tears, but could only sniffle, her voice too shy to make an appearance when Kill took the reins of their scenes like this for fear of upsetting him further.

Erik used his knee to spread her legs open far enough to see her flower drenching her thighs in her nectar for him. He took two fingers to swipe some of it onto them for him to put in his mouth and savor, groaning at how much sweeter she seemed to have gotten since last he held her.

He laid her onto the bed and got up to undress himself, slapping her already sore ass when she didn’t move a muscle.

“You know what’s up. Face down, ass up lil mama.”

Y/N groaned but slowly inched her way into position. Already feeling like jello, she barely put an arch in her back, struggling not to lay back down and pass out.

Killmonger was not happy with that. After he’d removed everything except his grills and chain he let both his palms come down on her cheeks simultaneously.

Sounding more animal than human, “If you don’t assume the position like you got some sense, I swear to the gods Y/N.”

She was still lethargic, but was eager to experience less of his painful assaults and more of the pleasurable ones that she knew were around the corner. It took all of her strength but she was able to inch herself into position, deepening her arch just the way he demanded with her arms by her side and her cheek resting against the comforter.

“Good girl.”

With how pliant she was to his commands and the evidence of how much she trusted and wanted him dripping down her thighs, it took all of his restraint not to plunge himself into her until he felt her cervix try to push him back out.

Y/N smiled faintly at the praise, humming and wiggling her ass in response.

Killmonger grasped her wrists as he knelt to get up close and personal with his pussy. He spread her lips so he could get an eyeful of her throbbing clit and blew on it, eliciting a guttural moan from Y/N, before replacing his hand back on her wrist.

“Just you wait mamas, you gonna be screaming and crying by the time I’m done with you.”

He licked her juices on both thighs, leaving hickies all over them both before he finally put his whole face in her pussy and ate. If it wasn’t for the grasp he had on her wrists, she would have collapsed immediately.

Erik was a good kisser in general, but Killmonger was a master at french kissing, especially her pussy, until she was questioning whether or not she still wanted the pleasure. Those deep soul sucking kisses always made her question her sanity.

He slurped up and suctioned her clit into his mouth like that’s where it belonged, flicking it with the tip of his tongue until she came with a silent scream, without ever releasing her tiny bud. Then he released it with a pop only to hold her lips open and spit directly onto her hole, watching his saliva drip down onto her clit. He flattened his tongue and licked like the dog he could be until she was a whining, moaning mess, tears streaming down her face just as promised. 

Once the first sound hit his ears, she couldn’t stop the noises he was pulling from her if she was mute, let alone at the mercy of his insatiable thirst for her most animalistic responses.

Kill continued his assault with his tongue, moving through her folds in a rhythm only he knew. After he’d gotten two more orgasms from her that way, Y/N alternating between screaming and crying, he latched his plush lips back around her clit, assaulting the sensitive bundle of nerves, and plunged his two most trustworthy fingers into her, immediately finding her gspot and caressing it with an incessant ‘come hither’ motion until she was squirting and creaming uncontrollably. Not willing to let go just yet he dragged it out for what seemed like forever since she briefly lost consciousness and came to, lips still parted in the O of her silent screams, with his mouth still eagerly slurping up the waterfall his fingers were responsible for. All Y/N could do was turn her head the other way to watch what she could see of him, whining and moaning.

When she could barely release any more spurts he released her, licking his hand, fingers, and forearm clean as he slowly stroked his hard as steel member. 

In the great deep of her sex haze, Y/N mumbled, “He brought dick too? How are we gonna survive dick too when he almost killed us with just his mouth and fingers.”

Erik chuckled at her ramblings, proud that he was, as usual, responsible for her senseless words.

When his precum made an appearance, he swiped it up with his thumb and rubbed it into her pussy, almost immediately replacing his thumb with the tip of his dick. Wanting to savor this moment of finally being able to reconnect with his pussy, he played with her, just like that. Rubbing the tip of his dick in both of their juices, up and down her pussy lips, circling her clit, and coming to apply just enough pressure to her desperately clenching hole, only to rinse and repeat. On and on he went, teasing them both until his quietly whimpering babygirl was back to guttural whines.

He knew she was right where he wanted her mentally when she started begging.

“Please big daddy, I’m so sorry. Please baba E, please baba, please. Please please please please please pleaaaaaasssssseeeeee.”

When he was good and ready, he pulled her up by her throat until she was flush against him, licked her tears from her cheek, and forced her to look him in the eyes.

“You don’t do that disappearing and silent treatment shit ever again Y/N. You hear me?”

Y/N nodded and blinked at him with a puppy eyed look that damn near melted the ice caps of his attitude, but he was quick to remind her who’s big daddy in their relationship.

“When I told you, you were mine, I meant that shit mama.”

“Yes, baba,” Y/N squeaked out.

He tongued her down with one of his sloppy french kisses and as soon as he felt her body relax in his hold, he did exactly what his body had been begging for since the second he saw her. He pushed himself into her until he felt the tip of her cervix try to push him all the way back out, savoring the fucked out look she wore as her body spasmed with the unexpected orgasm, he held them there letting her ride it out. 

In this moment he was grateful for the years of curated discipline since the way her pussy clamped onto him almost triggered his own mind numbing orgasm. Although he successfully staved off his nut, he couldn’t stop the way all of his fight was knocked right out of him.  Finally rid of the aggression that his Killmonger personality oozed, Erik was able to finally take in his queen, his Y/N, in all her sex hazed glory.

When she finally came down from her high he started moving, giving her slow and deep strokes as he showered her face and neck with kisses, hoping his attempt at lovemaking showed her just how priceless she was to him, how desperate he’d been without her.

Kiss, “I’m sorry too mamas,” kiss “I know how much you love me and I don't understand why,” kiss, “you,” kiss, “insist,” kiss, “on pouring all of the best parts of yourself into me.” He couldn’t help but shed a tear at the relief he felt, having her in his arms again. “I promise to do better,” kiss, “to listen and pay attention more,” kiss, “to treat you like the empress you are,” kiss, “just say you’ll come home with me,” kiss, “promise you’ll take your rightful place by my side mamas,” kiss, “claim your right as my queen.”

Y/N was a moaning, whining mess, barely holding onto consciousness and shedding her favorite kind of tears, just as promised.

Erik tucked his face into her neck, struggling to keep himself from cumming too soon since her pussy was gripping him like a boa constrictor, indicating that yet another orgasm wasn’t too far.

He held himself in the deepest parts of her and put a little whine in his hips. “Please mama, come home with me.”

Just when he thought he could hold out no longer she arched into him and screamed yes over and over, overwhelmed with her orgasm, and squirted all over them both. Erik came in her almost at the exact same time, his orgasm nearly knocking him out with how it overcame him from head to toe. Both of them slumped into the bed.

—

By the time he finally started to get up, her screams had quieted back to whimpers.

Erik slowly and gently removed her heels from her feet, massaging the soles with just the right amount of pressure.

He cleaned both of them with a warm washcloth and ran the tub, placing some bubble bath soap, epsom salt, essential oils, and dried rose petals in the water. Wanting to balance out the intrusive way he barged back into her life, he lit some candles and incense as well, and placed his favorite body oil of hers on the counter.

When he came back to get her in the tub, she was silently staring into space in the same place and position he left her. After he got her to turn over and sit up, he scooped her into his arms bridal and brought her to the tub, gently placing her into the suds.

Once he saw her relax he went back to the bedroom to strip and change the sheets, wanting their transition back into the room to be seamless. When he came back into the bathroom her head was leaned against the edge of the tub, eyes closed, and tears were streaming down her face, alarming him to the fact that although he’d won the battle, he was still losing the war with treating his girl with the care she really was looking for from him.

Choking up himself, he kneeled next the tub and leaned over her face, kissing the droplets left behind.

“I’m so sorry mamas. You know that right?” His voice cracked at the end.

Although she started nodding yes, she ended up shaking her head no.

“Can you open your eyes for me please?”

Y/N shook her head no again.

“Pretty please?”

Again she shook her head no. She was too scared to look him in his eyes, anytime he touched her or they made eye contact she folded to his desires and needs, abandoning her own.

A little defeated, but determined to win all of her back, not just her body, Erik switched tactics.

“May I get into the tub with you and hold you?”

Y/N hesitated a few moments before she nodded yes. As soon as she heard the rustle of him standing back up she scooted forward allowing him to sit behind her.

Once he was seated, Erik gently pulled her into him, urging her body to use him as she did the edge of the tub. The moment she relaxed in his embrace, head lolling slightly to the left, he started kissing up and down her neck from where her ear met her face to her collarbone.

When he felt enough time had passed, he tried to get her to open up to him again.

“Lil mama?”

Y/N hummed.

“Tell me what’s on your mind please, I promise to listen.”

Y/N held up her pinky and asked, “Pinky promise?”

Erik locked his pinky with hers and brought her hand to his lips, softly talking against it, “Pinky Promise.”

She pulled her hand away, putting it back in her lap to join the other one, under the water.

Taking a deep breath she started.

“Am I a toy to be played with Daka?” Erik was ready to answer but kept silent, knowing she needed to get all of her thoughts out before he interrupted her. “To be taken out of storage to be used and then tossed aside when you’re not getting the desired result anymore?”

Rubbing the sides of her thighs and suddenly very scared, he said, “ no mamas.”

“Then why do you get to demand time and attention and energy from me, but when I ask for a sliver of honest communication, the smallest amount of all three resources you have to offer me, you shut me out? Why is it only okay for you to communicate what’s going on with you and us when you feel like it, when it's convenient? Why do I always have to beg for you to lean on me, to use me softly? Why do I have to beg you to let me hold you. Why don’t you ever just ask? Why do I have to grovel at your feet to be held by you? Why is the only time you make love to me when you’re trying to win me back? Why?” 

By the end of her list, Y/N was sobbing. Erik wrapped his arms around her body and tucked his chin in the curve of her neck and let a few tears drop himself before he answered.

“I don’t know mamas. I guess…,” he wiped the tears from his face and gulped down the rising tsunami of emotion that she so easily created with just a few sentences before he wrapped his arm back around her, “...I guess I’m just terrified.”

“Of what baby? Haven’t I been here? Haven’t I done the best to support you with all that I am, to remain honest with you and show you that I am loyal to our future?”

He kissed her shoulder and said, “you have. I just-”

Y/N pulled out of his arms to finally look him in the eye, “You just what? Aren’t my efforts to build a life with you enough?”

Erik palmed her face and gave her a deep kiss, hoping to transfer all of his emotion into it.

He put his forehead against hers and said, “I’m just so fucking terrified of losing you. To have the warmth of your love snatched away at a moment's notice. I’m terrified in a way I haven’t been in so fucking long that I just convince myself that its better to pull away and show you how unworthy I am of the full magnitude of your love.”

He pulled away and kissed her forehead, grateful she was finally looking him in the eyes again. “But this time of separation showed me I am nothing without you, just a hollow shell, no love to warm my soul and bones. Even the care and concern of my family isn’t enough to fill the abyss that’s created in your absence.”

Y/N swiped away the stray tears from his face, “that’s-”

“I know. Super intense.”

“Yes. But I was gonna say a relief to hear. You never really give me any verbal confirmation that you feel as deeply for me as I do for you unless I say I love you first.”

“I know mamas, but I promise to do better, be better, for you.”

Y/N pecked his lips. “No Baba. For you. You need to talk your feelings out loud so you can hear it too. You need to know that the only reason you’re able to love me so deeply is because you love yourself that deep, if not deeper, first. Understand?”

Erik smirked, yet again grateful that he had such a wise and loving partner who always held up the pieces of mirror he’d sworn he’d broken to pieces.

“Yea lil mama, I understand.”

“Good…,” Y/N kissed him again, deepening the kiss but teasing him slightly with how lightly she moved her lips against his. When she pulled away, she almost regretted bursting his bubble. “...cause I’m not going back with you until I’m ready.”

Erik’s face instantly fixed itself into a scowl. “But-”

Y/N held a finger to his lips. “I said when I’m ready, not never. I came home to get back to taking care of me, love me, and understanding what my needs are.”

His pout deepened.

“And I learned that I need to stop jumping when you say jump. So I go back when I feel that I’m ready, not because you showed up and demanded it of me. Okay?”

He was a little deflated, but still holding onto the hope of her eventually coming back with him.

“Okay, but I’m staying with you until you’re ready.”

“But-.” 

It was Erik’s turn to hush her with a finger. “I already know what you’re going to say and my duties will be waiting for me when we go back together. Now that you’re back in my arms I’m in no hurry to lose the privilege again.”

“You’re not!”

“You’re right, cause I’m staying.”

All Y/N could do was chuckle, understanding that she’d lost this battle and relishing in the fact that she won the war. It seemed he was finally starting to understand what she needed because although she was indeed going to complain about him having responsibilities to return to, she really did need him to stay. That abyss he had was mirrored in her heart and only time with him would close it back up.

Both satisfied that they worked through the root issue, they went back to enjoying the bath, Y/N comfortably resting her head against Erik.

When they were all pruney and the water was verging on cold, Erik stood them up to drain the tub and turned on the shower to rinse them both. After he dried them both, he quickly lotioned his body with shea butter, grabbed the body oil and guided Y/N hand in hand, back into the bedroom.

He laid her on her back first to moisturize and massage her front, kneading out all of the tension she held. When he was working his way back up from her feet, he couldn’t help but get stuck between her thighs, using his thumbs to massage circles up them until he reached her pussy again.

Y/N slightly parted her legs, letting one bend and fall open for easy access. He immediately used one hand to part her lips so he could see her clit clearly.

Erik leaned down to softly kiss her clit a few times before he pulled away and used the thumb on his other hand to rub slow circles. He admired her form as he brought her to orgasm leisurely. 

He went back to massaging her thighs until she returned from the heights of her pleasure.

His voice was more gruff than he wanted when he told her, “turn over.”

She easily compiled and continued his massage, paying extra attention to her sore ass.

When Y/N was 2 more seconds away from sleep and he was satisfied with his work he urged her under the covers and joined her. She tried to grab his hardened member to return the favor but he grabbed up her hands, kissing them to soften the blow.

“No, I needed to show you how softly I can treat you, I don’t need to cum right now. Sleep.”

Y/N pouted and whined, wanting to feel him connected to her again.

She lifted her leg over his as they faced each other and inched as close as she could with her hands in his, feeling his dick graze her pussy lips.

Putting a little more base in his voice, “Ay! What I just say lil mama?”

She whined out, “I don’t care, I just need to feel you in me Baba.”

Erik grunted. 

Y/N donned her best puppy dog pout and begged with her words and body, wiggling in his hold and being able to feel the lightest brush of his hot skin. “Pleeeeeeaaaaassssseeee?”

“Fine, but careful what you asked for…” he said, sheathing himself in one stroke and stilled her hips before she could start moving. “...you just might get it.”

He released her hands and tongued her down, palming her face.

“Sleep Y/N.”

“But,” she said, her face scrunching in confusion.

“You can keep me warm, but that’s it for now, okay?”

She started to whine again but was cut short when he wrapped the hand palming her face around her throat.

“Sleep mamas. You’re going to need all of your energy in the morning.”

She wasn’t necessarily happy, but she also wasn’t necessarily dissatisfied. She did get her wish after all.

“Ok.”

Y/N tucked her head under his chin and started to drift before she sleepily said, “thank you for showing me how much you care Baba E. I’m really happy you’re here.”

Erik kissed her forehead and squeezed his arms a little tighter around her.

“Thank you for letting me.”

He was answered with her cute snores and let the sound lull him into the best sleep he’d had in too long of a while.

#erik killmonger #erik kilmonger x reader #Erik killmonger x black!reader #black panther fanfiction #black panther #erik stevens #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #erik stevens x reader #fictioninmybloodworks #fictioninmyblood #erik stevens x black!reader

[avatar-anna]

Unknown Number

someone made a request about reader accidentally being given harry's number, but i accidentally deleted it, so if you requested it, here it is!

(the text chain will be from harry's point of view)

italics: y/n (unknown number)

bold: harry

Part Two

Part Three

Unknown Number (UN): heyy. i had a really good time the other night. maybe we could do it again sometime? xx (click to download image)

Harry Styles (HS): How did you get this number?

UN: you gave it to me?

UN: last night at the pub? marcus, right?

HS: No. You have the wrong number.

UN: is this a joke? are you fucking with me right now?

HS: No.

UN: oh my god

UN: i feel like such an idiot

UN: one of the first times a guy gives me his number at a bar and he gives me the wrong number

UN: probably on purpose too

UN: i should've known when he left his OWN APARTMENT the next morning but i was actually hopeful

UN: and now i've made an ass of myself here too. sorry to bother you i'll leave you alone. sorry again

(one hour later)

HS: It's okay. Sorry about that guy. Sounds like a jerk.

(twenty minutes later)

UN: it's fine, i guess

UN: i wasn't in love with him or anything but he could've had the decency of expressing his disinterest himself instead of hiding behind a fake number.

HS: That is quite a dick move.

HS: I'm not gonna lie, I wasn't expecting that text. I didn't open the picture either by the way.

UN: thank you. for a moment i was worried i was messaging a creep, but hopefully you're not a creep

UN: i mean you could be still and i'd have no idea

UN: maybe i should stop texting you

(ten minutes later)

HS: I'm not a creep.

UN: that's exactly what a creep would say

HS: I don't really know how to prove it to you. You're the one who sent me a photo of yourself half naked. You could be the creep.

UN: you said you didn't open it!

HS: I was trying to be polite!

UN: great now some 40 year old living in his parents basement has one of my nudes

HS: I'm not 40! And I don't live in my parents basement

UN: you text like an old man

HS: wuld u rather i txt like ths???

UN: no but i'm just saying i don't know many people my age who use proper punctuation in text messages

HS: Well I might not be your age, but I'm certainly not 40

UN: "certainly not." you're right. you sound like my grandpa

HS: I suddenly regret restarting a conversation with you

UN: you know despite the fact that you might be catfishing me, i've enjoyed this. i feel like i'm doing what all the other teen girls did in high school at sleepovers

HS: So you're out of high school.

UN: creep!

HS: You outed yourself, that's not on me.

UN: you...might be right

UN: can you tell me something about yourself to make it even? there's always a possibility that you could be lying and i have no reason to trust you, but...idk i feel like i can

HS: Well that's stupid.

HS: But I suppose since I've already seen you partially naked...

UN: i'm blocking your number

HS: My first name is H, and I'm 20 years old.

UN: h? just the letter h?

HS: You could be a creep too for all I know

UN: fair enough. i'm june

HS: Full name? Wow, you really are a dummy.

UN: don't get your 60 year old panties in a twist. it's a nickname

HS: June is a nickname?

HS: And I'm not 60.

UN: june. june bug. that's what the folks call me

HS: Folks? Now who sounds old?

UN: whatever

(thirty minutes later)

HS: Well, it was nice talking to you, June. June bug.

UN: you too h

(three days later)

June (J): you're a guy right?

HS: I'm sorry?

J: well when i first texted you i thought you were a guy, but you weren't THAT guy, so i have no idea

J: i just assumed but i thought i would ask

J: plus i need solicited guy advice and if you're not a creep i would really appreciate it

HS: We're back to me being a creep?

J: it's a risk every time i text you

J: so? are you a dude?

HS: Yes.

J: great! can i ask you something?

HS: Um...I guess...

J: ok. would you ever get offended if a woman covered their drink during a conversation with you?

HS: I'm not following...

J: like say we're at a bar and we're talking and i turn my head away for some reason but i put my hand over my drink until i look back at you to prevent it from being spiked. would you be offended by that?

HS: No. Why?

J: see? i don't think that's unreasonable. some loser got mad at me for doing that. well EXCUSE ME for not immediately trusting the guy i matched with on tinder

J: who was not as cute in real life i might add

HS: You don't have the best taste in guys.

J: that is not advice!

HS: Okay, here's my advice: don't swipe right on guys who have mirror selfies in their profile.

J: ...

J: ok fair enough but it's not like prince charmings are falling from the sky. it's hard out here

HS: I'm sure.

J: what you don't have the same problem?

HS: I don't really date.

J: in like a douchey way? are you one of those guys who say they just fuck?

HS: I just don't have time for dating, I guess.

J: so no special someone?

HS: No.

(four hours later)

HS: If you asked for advice, does that mean I can too?

(one hour later)

J: sorry i was at work

J: and i don't see why not

HS: What do you think about guys who wear skinny jeans?

J: hm...i think styled right it could be nice

J: YSL is kind of pushing the whole skinny jeans and chelsea boots thing which might eventually trickle down to the losers i match with on tinder so...why not? i say dress how you want

J: any guy who has a good sense of style is sexy to me

J: sorry if that wasn't the answer you were looking for

HS: Yes and no. I've been experimenting with different styles. Sometimes I get a little in my head about it.

J: doesn't everyone?

HS: I guess you're right.

HS: Do you follow fashion shows and things like that?

HS: That's not too personal, is it?

J: no, but it's kind of embarrassing

HS: Not as embarrassing as sending a complete stranger a picture of yourself in your bra

J: harsh...but fair

J: fashion is kind of my religion

J: i'm trying to become a stylist. keyword trying

HS: That's cool!

J: tell that to my family

HS: they don't support you?

J: nope! but i'm gonna do it anyway!

HS: Do you have a favorite designer?

J: it kinda depends on the year and who was creative director at the time, but the first time i got my hands on vintage vivienne westwood i was hooked

J: you?

HS: I'm just starting to explore the fashion world I guess you could say.

J: well lucky for you i happen to be a bit of an encyclopedia when it comes to house codes

HS: House codes?

J: oh boy. i hope you're comfortable. we might be here a while

(two days later)

HS: Have you ever had rumors spread about you?

J: i don't think so

J: oh wait! in eighth grade this girl in my class told everyone i made out with a boy at the school dance which was NOT true

J: it was just a peck

HS: Naughty.

J: it was harmless. why do you ask?

HS: There's a rumor going around about me. It's just frustrating when people actually believe it. sometimes it gets to the point where i start to believe it myself.

J: i'm sorry. i won't pry or anything, but i know what it feels like to not be understood

HS: I just hate the feeling of being under a microscope. It's exhausting. I feel like my life isn't my own sometimes.

J: that sucks

J: sorry that was in no way helpful, but i don't really know what to say. is there someone you can talk to about this?

HS: ...

J: oh! i actually feel kind of honored

J: well, obviously i don't know the whole situation, but maybe try and surround yourself with people who don't scrutinize you so much?

HS: Easier said than done.

J: true but i think if you have a solid group of people who know you and understand you and like you for who you are, it's easier to deal with things like rumors and being under the proverbial microscope, you know?

J: and don't be afraid to get rid of the toxic people in your life! it's not easy but you'll be better off in the long run

HS: sometimes it's hard to tell who's toxic and who's not

J: start with the people who would never believe a rumor about you, or the ones who would never START one about you

HS: Well said, June Bug.

J: thanks! maybe i should entertain a career in counseling

(one month later)

HS: Why June Bug?

J: i was born in the summer. it was a nickname my grandparents gave me. been called that ever since

HS: That's sweet.

J: there are worse nicknames i suppose. i have a cousin that got stuck with chip because he used to stuff his face like a chipmunk when he was little

HS: Yikes.

J: you're telling me

(three weeks later)

J: have you ever danced alone in your bedroom to stevie nicks?

HS: Have you?

J: i have, and can i just say she does NOT get enough credit as a songwriter?

HS: Edge of Seventeen?

J: edge of seventeen

J: i went on a date last week with a guy who had the AUDACITY to call her music mediocre

HS: You didn't see him again did you?

J: ...

HS: June!

J: just once! and only because he had really nice hands

HS: I don't get how that would make you stay with a stevie hater...

J: REALLY nice hands ;)

HS: You disappoint me sometimes.

J: ;))))

(fifteen minutes later)

J: hey you never answered my question about dancing in your room!

HS: ...No comment...

(one week later)

J: you ever been in love, h?

HS: I can't say that I have. Have you?

J: no ://

J: i think i want it too much. i've always just been in love with the idea of falling in love, you know?

J: but the reality isn't what i thought it would be

HS: I'm sorry.

HS: It probably won't help but I'm sure you'll find someone. You seem like a great person. Anyone would be lucky to be with you.

J: aw h you're making me blush!

HS: But perhaps you should stop looking for love on a hookup app

J: annnd good feeling gone

(two weeks later)

HS: Guess who has two thumbs and got invited to Paris Fashion Week!

J: no fair!

J: and that joke doesn't work if i can't see you point to yourself. it doesn't work period

HS: I will let that slide because I know you're just jealous.

J: are you kidding me? OF COURSE i'm jealous! i can't believe you get to see Alessandro Michele's work up close

HS: Who?

J: don't think because we only communicate through text that i can't strangle you

HS: Relax. I'm only joking.

HS: Alessandro is a friend ;))

(ten minutes later)

J: sorry i just had to scream into my pillow

J: what exactly do you do again?

HS: I told you. I work in the industry.

J: but that could mean anything! the cosmetics industry, the movie industry, the meat packing industry...

HS: Meat packing?

J: you know what i mean!

HS: I do a lot of PR.

J: see. that wasn't so hard now was it?

HS: Can I go back to gloating?

J: only if you promise to give me a full report afterwards you go to all the shows

HS: Deal.

(four days later)

HS: Favorite movie?

J: that's hard...

J: it's probably cliche but the devil wears prada

HS: Good choice.

J: what about you?

HS: The Notebook.

J: really?

HS: Yes. Why?

J: do you say that to impress girls or because it's actually your favorite?

HS: Would you rather I have said a film with lots of car chases?

J: no

J: but i went out with a guy who was a film major once

HS: Is that a bad thing?

J: let's just say it won't be happening again

J: he thought he was superior for disliking popular movies. i hate that

HS: Well, I love The Notebook and I love Ryan Gosling

J: now THAT is something we can agree on!

(six weeks later)

J: BIG NEWS

J: LIKE HUGE

J: GROUNDBREAKING

HS: And here I was thinking you forgot about me.

J: i texted you yesterday

HS: You asked me if my dick could move on its own.

J: a legitimate question! i nearly had a heart attack when i saw it in person

J: but i was also weirdly fascinated. my question was purely scientific!

HS: You said you had news?

J: right!

(twenty minutes later)

HS: Are you making me wait to create anticipation?

J: no sorry i got a phone call.

J: i got my first real gig as a stylist

HS: That's great! Congratulations!

J: thanks

HS: You don't sound excited anymore. What happened to all caps?

J: my mother happened

HS: Still not on board, then?

J: she told me it was a waste of time and that i should get a real job

HS: You're still gonna take it though right?

J: i don't know. maybe she's right. the pay is less than ideal. more like i'm being paid in experience, and it's not the clientele i was imagining...

HS: But it's a foot in the door, right? That's something.

J: i guess

HS: Make connections. Get good references. And who knows, you might actually enjoy yourself.

J: you're right.

J: it's for some up and coming band that's going on tour. pretty sure i was what they could afford

HS: Don't sell yourself short. You're gonna do great.

J: thanks. i hardly even know you and you're currently my biggest supporter

HS: What happened to Bill?

J: ancient history

HS: What was wrong with him? He seemed nice.

J: yeah

J: his girlfriend thought so too.

HS: On behalf of all men: Sorry. We truly are the worst.

J: agreed. what about you? still single?

HS: Yes, though people keep trying to set me up on dates.

J: the horror!

HS: Ha ha

HS: I just want to meet someone on my own terms.

J: i get that

J: i just want to meet someone who's actually a decent human being

HS: I'll be on the lookout.

(three weeks later)

J: i think i've decided that tour life is not for me

HS: oh?

J: yeah. sitting on a bus for hours and hours with only myself to keep me company? no thanks

HS: it can't just be you on the bus can it?

J: no but i have a hard time making friends right away. and a lot of the crew for this tour are older than me

HS: are your clients nice at least?

J: yeah. one of them tried to hit on me, which i guess i should take as a compliment, but i am on the clock. no flirting for me

HS: a professional then. or are you not into the musician type?

J: not sure. i haven't dated one before

J: i told you that the other day

HS: right. must've slipped my mind

HS: but back to taste in men. is it all about looks for you or do you like funny guys?

HS: are you the type to sleep with someone on the first date? because i feel like that's very telling about a girl

J: who is this?

HS: what do you mean? it's me

J: it's not. you're not texting like a middle aged woman and you're acting like a total ass

HS: Sorry. I thought I'd try something new. And I was just curious. Can't blame a guy for asking right? You did send some guy you barely knew a picture of yourself

HS: It was very wholesome by the way. Maybe try a little more skin next time and you'll get the response you want. You can practice here if you'd like.

J: oh my god

HS: What?

J: this was a mistake. i'm such an IDIOT

J: was this some kind of prank?

J: whoever you are, you're sick

J: don't text me again

HS: June, I'm so sorry. That was my friend he was just being stupid.

HS: Last time I leave my phone anywhere.

HS: June?

HS: June please.

HS: That wasn't me I swear!

HS: I'm sorry.

(three weeks later)

HS: Day 21 of trying to get you to respond.

HS You probably blocked me which is fine. I don't blame you.

HS: But if you DO happen to read these and are just ignoring me...

HS: I'm sorry. Again. For like the millionth time.

J is typing...

HS: June?

J: i should've blocked you

HS: Why didn't you?

J: because as insane as it sounds, you've become a close friend

HS: I feel the same. I'm really sorry about before. I swear it was one of my mates. I would never say something like that.

J: that's what makes this whole thing crazy! i don't actually know you, so how do i know if i can trust you?

HS: I mean you even noticed that he wasn't texting like me. I would never ask you questions like that, June. I never have.

HS: And I do NOT text like a middle aged woman by the way

J: i guess that's true

J: i think it just doubled down the fact that we don't actually know each other. this whole thing is ridiculous if you think about it too long. it gives me a headache sometimes.

J: i know we've joked about it but...this could be potentially dangerous

HS is typing...

HS: I could send you a voice note.

J: you would do that?

HS: You're right. This whole thing is ridiculous but...I don't know, I trust you, and I consider you a friend.

J: a friend you say?

HS: That's all I'm willing to admit for one day

J: and what about tomorrow?

HS is typing...

HS (voice recording): Maybe tomorrow I'll admit a little more.

(one day later)

Y/n hated how much her stomach flipped every time her phone pinged with a new message.

It was so reckless and dangerous and utterly ridiculous. She didn't know who H was, she didn't even know what time zone he lived in, and yet she felt like she knew him.

And after hearing his deep voice—deep British voice—on the voice recording, Y/n determined that he wasn't some creep in his forties like she'd originally thought.

Since sending that voice recording, they'd sent each other messages like that all night. And by all night she meant all night. They stayed up late sending voice recordings back and forth. It was the longest conversation they'd held to date, which was surprising considering that they often missed each other during certain hours. Just based on what hours of the day they texted the most, Y/n figured H lived somewhere in Europe, which gave her peace of mind considering he couldn't exactly kidnap her if he was a whole ocean away. But the last couple weeks their schedules seemed to be lining up, though Y/n chalked it up to all the traveling she'd been doing lately.

One thing she was certain of was that she adored H's voice. It was soft and deep, but got raspier the longer they spoke. And at times he would whisper in his messages, like he had to keep his voice down. The hushed tones made her shiver.

Y/n didn't call H, and he never offered. But she wanted to, boy did she want to. No matter how terrifying that thought was. A full-fledged phone call seemed more...real to Y/n. With the messages, she and H were still in their little bubble. It was stupid, but she needed that bit of separation. She was becoming attached to someone she'd never met.

Walking through the halls of a stadium in Canada, Y/n pulled up past conversations with H. It was too embarrassing to admit to anyone out loud, but she felt like she really knew him. He was endearing, had a silly sense of humor, had good taste in music, and was honest. Well, as honest as either of them could be. Outside of the one slip up with H's friend, Y/n believed what he said to her over text. Maybe that made her naive, but their conversations were legit. He felt like a friend, and she knew he felt similarly.

Maybe tomorrow I'll admit a little more.

Y/n had no idea what that could mean. She of course knew what she wanted it to mean, but what she wanted rarely ever lined up with reality.

Y/n looked up from her phone to make sure she didn't pass the right door. The one in front of her read, Harry Styles in big bold lettering. She quickly hurried past and continued down the hall to where the dressing room for Five Seconds of Summer was.

Harry Styles was a bit of an enigma. Even though she was on the same tour as him and One Direction, Y/n hardly ever saw him. And when she did, his nose was always in his phone, completely closed off to the world around him. He just had this vibe that said, "don't talk to me," and Y/n received that message loud and clear. The Five Seconds of Summer boys seemed to get on with all the members of One Direction, but Y/n usually made herself scarce whenever they came by the dressing room, for no other reason than too much testosterone in one room.

"You want to come out after the show, Harry?" Y/n heard one of the boys ask. Michael.

"Um...No. I think I'll have to pass tonight, boys. Sorry."

"What? Big date tonight?"

"Something like that."

Y/n felt frozen to the linoleum floor. She knew that voice. She'd spent all night listening to that voice.

"Holy shit."

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

[adokyoguen]

note: i definitely don't know if I write english correctly so forgive me if I make any mistakes. I'm not fluent in english so correction will be welcome!

˖ ࣪ ꒷ meeting in ten minutes ៹ satoru gojo x reader

You were sitting on the couch, playing on your cell phone while watching some boring series that you put on TV just so you wouldn't feel lonely in your apartment. Suddenly, an ecological knock, making your attention shift from your cell phone to the door. You stand up, thinking about who could be behind the door, a delivery man? Any blessed friend who decided to order you something to eat? No... you didn't talk to anyone today out of pure laziness on your part. When you open the door, you come across Satoru Gojo, a long-time friend of yours, you are always going out together, but you never admitted that it was a date. You kissed a few times when you were under the influence of alcohol, but neither of you had the courage to talk about it the next day.

"Gojo? You didn't even text me that you were coming." You say, noticing his outfit, he looked so... chic? You've never seen him dressed up to the point where he left the house with wet hair.

"I came to surprise you! A fancy restaurant awaits us. You have ten minutes to look stunning for me" Gojo explains, entering his house and throwing himself on the couch. You frown at Gojo's hasty invitation.

"Are you kidding me? Ten minutes? What kind of invitation is that? Do you really think you're going to rush to get me ready in ten minutes for you? You idiot!" You say as you lock the door to your house and stand in front of Gojo, who was sitting on the couch, watching you.

"I'm sorry for underestimating the preparation time of the most amazing person I know. Now, go get ready, princess. I want everyone to know that you're by my side tonight."

You wanted to pull Gojo's hair and curse him for being an idiot, did he really think it was possible for you to get ready in ten minutes? Like... you had to choose what hairstyle to wear, your makeup, your shoes and most importantly, your clothes.

"I'm serious, Gojo. I don't even have clothes ready for this. Most of them are being washed! If you want to go out with me so much, at least let me know in advance next time." You explain, crossing your arms, irritated.

Gojo sighs deeply, getting up from the couch and walking past you to head towards his room.

"Hey! Where are you going?" You go after the man when you see Gojo invade your room and start rummaging through your closet.

"Don't worry, princess, I'll find something amazing for you to wear. I have a knack for picking out clothes, you know... Trust me." Okay, you will definitely kill Satoru Gojo at one point or another.

"Since when did I give you permission to go through my closet?" You ask, crossing your arms, stepping in front of him.

"I am here trying to help you and you are hindering me... why am I instead of you hurting my feelings, won't you prepare yourself?" Gojo jokes, pulling you away from the closet, leaving you to look for some clothes.

"Do you think I can get ready in ten minutes? Do you have any idea of time, Satoru Gojo?" You ask irritably as you look for your makeup bag.

"Actually, it's now seven minutes." Gojo's laugh phrase comes out as he says this, you roll your eyes, putting on makeup. "Here, I found something good." He says playing, throwing a black dress on your bed so you could see.

"That dress is short Gojo." You comment as you do a quick liner on your eye.

“So I nailed it.” He says, his arrogant smile forming on his face. "Well, shoes you can just wear this heel here." Gojo throws a pair of black shoes. It was in the back of your closet precisely because you hated using it, plus you felt like it could fall at any moment, your foot starts to do so. "Not these." You say, finishing the basic makeup you did just to hide your dark circles and lift your eyes.

"My princess, we don't have much time now, you will have to go with them." Gojo explains as he throws the dress at you, earning a disapproving look in return.

"I hate it when you do that." You say irritably, going into the bathroom to get dressed as quickly as you can and putting on your heels with some difficulty.

When you leave the bathroom, you find Gojo messing around with one of your corsets, which was in your closet drawer. "How does it work?" Gojo asks, turning the corset over in his hand, to understand what it was.

"It's to show your waist." You explain as you comb your hair, trying to make it look neat. As you apply some cream just to make it easier to comb, you feel Gojo's hand around your waist.

"May I?" He asks, smiling.

"On you? I think so, if you want." You ask as you go back to combing your hair, earning a laugh from the boy.

"No fuck, put it on you." He says, hugging your waist from behind, kissing your neck.

"You can try." You hoped he wouldn't understand how it works and would give up right away, since you don't even know how to put it. Gojo wrapped the corset around your waist, fiddling with the ribbons to try and adjust it to your body, you couldn't understand how he managed to learn so quickly.

"And now?" He asks as he puts the loose ribbons back into place.

"You pull both ribbons." You explain as you apply perfume to your body. Gojo smiles, pulling both sides of the ribbon, causing his waist to tighten and a slightly uncomfortable pain to appear in his body. You didn't want to ruin the moment, Gojo seemed so happy to make the corset work and his waist appear like magic, that you ignored the shortness of breath and pain to make him happy.

"You look so beautiful..." Gojo murmurs, running his hand around your waist, which was covered by the corset.

You should definitely use this more often.

#jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #satorugojo #jjk #jjk x reader #romance #gojo x reader #gojo #satoru

[genericpuff]

it's legit been a hot minute since i've read an LO episode from start to finish so I decided to read the new free episode

wow i'm really not missing a dang thing am i, jfc

I've talked about it before how the dialogue in these comics really feels... non-human, but now I'm at a point where I wouldn't even be surprised if I find out the comic was being written by one of those script bots or some AI Chat GPT tool. It's just so stupidly clunky with very little context or build-up to what's being said, the characters feel like they're just talking at each other rather than with each other, if you know what I mean. It's giving Shenmue 3.

But let's have some extra fun with this and go through it panel by panel.

I'm not gonna talk about the Apollo scene, not yet at least. But I DO want to talk about the dialogue exchange between Persephone and the demigods she's chosen to be judges.

First off, we get this cut to Persephone saying "Thank you so much for coming today." But the stuff that follows really feels like these guys have no idea where they are or why. Like, the first thing the guy on the left has to say is "you're a woman", why is he making this observation now if they intentionally made the decision to join her? If he's supposedly sexist on that line alone (which is what a lot of people in the discussion circles assume) why would he even join her on the boat in the first place if he wasn't willing to listen to a woman?

Oh, okay, so they HAVE had this conversation already, great exposition, Rachel! But again, it still makes no sense why he's making this observation out of nowhere if he already knows he's going to be working with her and chose to come along with her on the boat ride. Why is he repeating what he's already said? Why not just have this conversation happen organically instead of doing the whole sitcom "cut to the middle of what's happening and explain it matter-of-factly for the audience to catch up so we don't have to actually show the entire conversation???" bit?

It's such a cliche overused tactic to try and skip informing NPC's of what the audience already knows but that only works if we, the audience, know what's going on. Such a tactic is meant to benefit the AUDIENCE, not the characters. It's a pointless waste of time for everyone involved if they're doing it the other way around where the NPC's know but the audience doesn't and the characters have to re-explain everything they already know for the audience. It's clunky exposition.

And then of course, we get Persephone acting all high and mighty with people who, again, don't even seem to know what the fuck is going on, they don't even seem to be functioning at full brain capacity with how repetitive and pointless their dialogue is (especially the "I'm a son of Zeus" guy but we'll get to him later). If Persephone's thankful for them joining her, why is she being such a bitch? This isn't a power move, she's not being a "boss babe", she's being that bitchy manager that complains about high turnover rates completely oblivious or uncaring to the fact that she's the reason people quit the job in the first place.

"It's listening to the Queen of the Underworld time", bitch you have done NOTHING to earn that title or demand for respect. NO ONE KNOWS WHO YOU ARE. Anyone who DOES know her only knows her as a consort of Hades from that one tabloid pic from ten years ago. So... yeah, literally no one knows her. Even if they saw her in that weird broadcast during the Kronos fight (which, why would they, everyone was asleep as we were told and that news chopper was from OLYMPUS), she has done nothing to organically earn the respect and admiration of the people. As far as anyone's concerned, she's just this weird pink thing rolling into town and the only reason she has power at all is because the King has a flower nymph fetish and wanted a replacement for the girl that "got away" and married his brother.

IDK if this was an attempt at a joke but I feel bad for this guy because he clearly has no idea where he is, why he's here, or why he's going to work for the Underworld when he's a son of Zeus and would maybe prefer a job in Olympus somewhere. Look at him, those aren't the eyes of a man who knows what's going on.

"RAWR, I'm edgy and in control, shut your whore mouth while I'm speaking, peasant!"

She doesn't even look intimidating here, she looks severely constipated.

This is also legit just a copy paste of the Hera/Apollo/Echo scene from S2 which just further drives home how Persephone is an emotional replacement for Hera and a physical replacement for Rhea (while also satisfying that aforementioned flower nymph fetish).

Again, Persephone has done nothing to earn the admiration or respect of her people (unlike, y'know, Hera) and it's bullshit that she pretended to be all thankful at the beginning of this only to then treat them like shit as soon as she was able. Like, again, she seems to have just kidnapped these guys and they undoubtedly have questions and instead she's steamrolling all over them for zero reason beyond stroking her ego. If she's so bothered by the first guy being a sexist, why is she hiring him in the first place???

girl he's literally trying to escape from your bullshit, why are you treating him like a toddler or a hamster who can't control himself

it's painfully clear now these guys absolutely did not sign up for ANY of this and even if they DID sign up to be judges for Hades, they clearly were NOT aware it would include being berated and snipped at by his moody toddler of a wife, she's the ONLY one here who has zero self control or qualifications. push her in the river, please. put her in the hamster cage.

so yeah, it's not "thank you for coming with me today", it's "thank you for shutting up and being good little hostages so mommy can play pretend ruler, if you even THINK of ignoring me i'll have my daddy Mads Mikkelson- I mean, Hades chop your balls off, teehee!" seriously can SOMEONE please push her in the river, she's got like 50 pounds of hair, she has zero chance /hj

"i found a way for my husband to do even less work than he already does, like a good little billionaire!"

ms. brian griffin, no one knows what elysium is

we, the audience, haven't even seen elysium

no one knows what you're talking about and no one has anything to thank you for because so far you've spent the majority of your time in the underworld since the time skip dicking around and acting like a Karen

literally sit down and eat your oatmeal

we don't even know what 'nu-tartarus' is, who wants to bet rachel watched sci-fi the week she made this with the 'nu' spelling, jfc

what did she do to warrant the 'nu'

in fact, is tartarus even accessible right now??? what happened to Kronos locking himself up in there and refusing to let anyone in??? Did they seriously dig a hole in the ground and call it "Nu-Tartarus"? Fuck off.

Hermes, pal, you're seeing this shit, right? How can you sit there and watch her act like this??? This ain't the girl you used to make out with in the mountains.

"My husband serves in the military, you know! You'll regret not giving me that 2% discount!"

for those of you in the audience who don't know this, this is what we call panel filler. i.e. pointless repetitive panels that RS uses to fill her panel quota each week. LO always has at least 2-3 of these per episode. Go ahead, fact check it yourself, I'll wait.

Diva Plavalaguna wore it better, honey.

(also why do her ARMS look the same as her hair, they look like sausage casings 😭)

Such a weird cut though, from her making that "lol can you believe the things I put up with ????" face to her just WALKING AWAY FROM THE MEN WHO HAVE NO IDEA WHY THEY'RE EVEN HERE.

what- um, why are we cutting to this? I get that it's RS still trying to exposit instead of write organically but Hermes literally didn't ask and he should probably already be aware of what's going on if he's ON THE BOAT WITH HER. Also why are you explaining to him what a demi-god is? Again, it's Rachel trying to do the "and that's my plan" shtick not understanding that only works for OTHER CHARACTERS who aren't "in on it", NOT THE AUDIENCE. When you try to have your characters explain things JUST for the sake of the audience, it makes them all look stupid and it wastes the audience's time.

Like, never mind the fact that Hermes himself is technically a demi-god in LO as his mother is a non-god.

This would have worked better if she was explaining who these men were specifically, like the fact that they were Kings when they were alive, or why she chose them, but no, she just starts it and leaves it at "well they're related to Zeus, so they're demi-gods" with zero lead-up or context as to why she's explaining this to Hermes of all people in the first place.

WAIT OKAY. SO I WAS RIGHT, THEY LITERALLY AREN'T FUNCTIONING AT FULL AUTONOMY. THAT'S WHY THEY'RE REPEATING THINGS OR NOT SAYING THINGS THAT ARE RELEVANT OR ASKING QUESTIONS.

PERSEPHONE LITERALLY TOOK THESE SHADES WHO HAVE NO ABILITY TO CONSENT OR UNDERSTAND WHAT'S GOING ON

AND IS FORCING THEM TO WORK FOR HER HUSBAND, THE SLAVE DRIVER.

PERSEPHONE HAS BECOME A SLAVE DRIVER.

"THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR COMING WITH ME TODAY" ????

"THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BEING GOOD LITTLE SLAVES. YOU WORK FOR ME AND MY HUSBAND NOW. WE'LL GIVE YOU BACK ENOUGH OF YOUR AUTONOMY TO MAKE YOU GOOD FOR WORKING BUT YOU WILL NEVER HAVE FREE WILL."

THIS IS LITERALLY THE PLOT OF HADESTOWN BUT IT WANTS US TO CHEER FOR HADES' POINT OF VIEW IN THE END.

Also, "Hades is going to restore some of their humanity"??? Guys, do you realize the implications of this?

If this is something he's always been able to do, that means he's always had the ability to grant the shades working for him autonomy and will, but chose not to.

Give them enough sentience and autonomy to work, but not enough to question why they're working for the system in the first place.

Great job Persephone, this is soooo much better than what Hades was doing before. You've made life so much better for the dead.

Fucking hell. I started this essay with the intent of talking about the weird clunky dialogue exchanges and as I sat on it and wrote on it longer and longer it just got so much WORSE and turned into discussing Persephone's lack of morals and how she's become the very thing she always claimed she stood against.

I say "great job Persephone" but we also have to give credit where credit is due - great job Rachel, this is soooo much better than just ending the series in the first two seasons or actually resolving the plot threads you started in Season 1. You've made your comic so much better to please the stans and spite the haters.

Christ. I'm not even done talking about everything I wanted to talk about regarding this episode but I figured I should cut it off here to at least keep it all on theme. I do wanna talk about that Apollo scene and the Hermes/Persephone conversation but I'll probably do that in separate posts.

Despite how fired up I got, I am glad about one thing - I really am not missing anything. I have lost nothing from unsubscribing from LO and uninstalling the WT app. And frankly, neither will you if you've been contemplating on promoting yourself to a non-reader. There is zero FOMO here. I get just as much if not more entertainment from just following along with the hilarious conversations in the Discord and subreddit each week, because at LEAST those are fun and don't make me feel dead inside like LO does. LO isn't entertaining, it's hardly even so-bad-that-it's-entertaining at this point, maybe it still is for you, but I'm assuring you right now for those of you "hanging on", it's not going to magically "get better", even the episodes that some people CLAIM are better really aren't because of how low the bar is nowadays. I am giving you full permission to free yourself of these shackles if you've been looking for a way out. Take this as your metaphorical key.

The LO we all fell in love with is long, long gone.

#and yes i do hope rachel and webtoons reads this #because a lot of people do have the WT app at this point just for LO so people dropping off LO means people dropping off the app #this comic absolutely is affecting your bottom line WT #why is this comic still being carried on WT's shoulders #even when it's not being outright controversial or offensive it's still just a poorly made comic #the dialogue is janky and there's NOTHING GOING ON #it's just further proof that so many romance webtoons aren't built to last 3 seasons #they always lose their steam by then #just put it out of its misery for the love of god #lore olympus critical #lo critical #antiloreolympus #anti lore olympus #Youtube

[dameronology]

hi, can i please request hcs of post-war poe? you know, poe and reader are finally together in peacetime instead of being constantly at war, and they're finally building a life together. maybe an actual house, eventual children? domestic fluff basically

first of all: yes i am obsessed with this and secondly: sorry this has taken me 95 years to write

quite honestly, there were times during the war when poe wasn't even sure he would come out the other side of it. if the job didn't kill him, something else (probably the first order tbh) would. daring to dream was scary. daring to have hope felt borderline idiotic, like he was setting himself up for failure.

you were the thing that got him through it all: through the long missions, the rough nights, the battles that left scars both on his skin and in his mind. even on the darkest days, you were the tiny spark that kept him going.

the day the resistance won felt like a dream. seeing you across the crowd when he got back to ajaan kloss was like...an out of body moment. you were okay. he was okay. things were gonna be okay.

after taking a few days to just be, you and poe got your asses into gear. he was appointed general of the new galactic republic's navy and you assumed a similarly high position within the government.

at first, you found yourselves a little apartment in a high rise on coruscant. it wasn't much, but after years of sharing cramped rooms and tents and even just a bed on the falcon at one point, having a place of your own was everything.

it's quickly filled with physical marks of your relationships; pictures of the two of you, notes on the fridge, flowers on the kitchen counter that poe would buy you, which would stay for weeks and weeks til they withered away and he'd replace them.

those lazy days you'd spend there together, just you and him and no-one else, allowed to just exist for the first time in fucking years felt surreal

it was everything; slow mornings and late nights and rainy afternoons spent watching water fall down on the bright city lights ahead of you

it worked for a while and even then some after your first kid appeared in the world. a son, six pounds and three ounces of pure dameron with mighty lungs and the same dark hair as his dad. but he grew, and he began to walk, and suddenly the four walls that you'd once looked at and thought how the hell are we gonna fill this place? was suddenly too small

so, you moved. this time, further out from the business of the city and back to yavin 4 where everything had started for poe. home was wherever you were but being close to kes was even better. anywhere connected to shara was wonderful too.

you found a house ten minutes from where poe had grown up; it had a garden and four bedrooms (you'd said "home office" and poe had said "so at least four more, then?") and a kitchen big enough to house an army

the furniture you owned barely filled the living room but with poe's paternity leave giving him too much free time and the gift of online shopping, this problem was quickly solved

within a year, it's your home and you know that it's your forever one

within two years, there was another kid present; this time, a daughter. poe loved both his kids beyond any worldly measure but even more so every time time he saw little bits of you in them.

eventually, you and poe save up enough to take a few years out of work; obviously, it's something you'd have to return to but just for a little while, there's nothing to focus on but each other and your family

#asks #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron imagines #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron reader insert #poe dameron x you #poe dameron headcanons #poe dameron #star wars x reader #star wars imagines #star wars imagine #star wars x you #star wars

[lonesome-witching]

I Couldn't Kill You If I Tried

I'm so excited for this prompt. I had a blast writing it and I hope you guys like it. This one features a flayed Nancy. Thanks again to the anonymous prompter who left this in my asks.

You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.

“And I think that’s kind of special, you know?” Robin had been rambling for about ten minutes now. There was something about being close to Nancy to caused her to lose the ability to shut up. She just talked and talked and talked. And she knew why, she knew it was because Nancy made her nervous, she knew that it was because she had a crush on Nancy, but it didn’t change the fact that she constantly felt like a nuisance.

Especially now. Because Nancy wasn’t reacting. She wasn’t nodding her head with a tight-lipped smile. She wasn’t giggling at the ridiculous bullshit Robin shared. She wasn’t recognizing Robin’s existence in the slightest.

It felt like one of the many nightmares Robin had. The ones where she ran her mouth and shared too much, and Nancy found out the truth about her. They never ended well.

“Nance?” Robin hated herself for the way her voice quivered.

There was no reaction.

Robin rushed forward on clumsy feet and walked backwards, simply to be able to get a better look at Nancy. If the girl hadn’t been walking, Robin would have assumed this was all Vecna.

“Nance?” Robin asked again. But as she looked into Nancy’s eyes, she missed the blue. Instead, her eyes were black, as if those irises had been poisoned by a drop of ink. “Nance? Are you alright?”

Maybe it was stupid that she reached her hands towards the other girl. The girl that was still walking. But what else was Robin supposed to do?

The second her fingertip grazed Nancy’s arm, the girl tackled Robin to the ground. There were hands around her neck, squeezing almost as tight as the vines had back in the Upside Down.

“Nance, Nancy, please.” The words were barely audible. Nothing more than shallow breaths. “Please, let go.” Robin’s hands reached for Nancy’s wrists.

Blue returned to Nancy’s eyes as she threw herself off Robin’s body. Robin sat up, her hand stroking over her neck. She had already opened her mouth to comfort Nancy, to tell her everything would be okay, even if she didn’t understand what had just happened. But Nancy muttered a soft sorry before rushing away.

-

“Something is wrong. I think she might be… flayed,” El said, her eyes closed tightly and a drop of blood dripping out her nose.

Robin was sitting in front of her, silently tapping her finger against her knee. She had been beyond agitated when she reached Hopper’s cabin. It still was a bit of a dump despite the work they all had done on it. Robin was pretty sure Joyce was actively looking for another place to stay. Something that shouldn’t be this hard with people moving away left and right.

“She’s fighting though. She’s fighting, but she seems… she seems tired.” El opened her eyes and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I tried to reach for her, but she pushed me out.”

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Robin yelled. She jumped up and started pacing the floor. “Flayed? That means she is like Billy. We all know how that ended. I can’t— She can’t die.”

“Will was flayed at one point and we got it out of him,” Jonathan offered.

“How?” Robin stopped pacing and instead opted to stare at the boy on the couch, Nancy Wheeler’s ex-boyfriend.

“Me and Nancy burned it out of him.”

Robin thought about pushing a hot poker into Nancy’s flesh and a shiver ran down her spine. She couldn’t. She could never hurt Nancy like that.

A knock at the door prohibited Robin from saying anything else. Robin followed Jonathan’s lazy steps toward the cabin door.

“You know it’s not polite to poke into someone’s head without permission.” Nancy looked different. She was wearing tight leather pants and a black shirt. Robin hated to admit that it looked hot on her.

“Nancy?” Robin asked.

“Robin?” Nancy’s face twisted into a sweet smile. It was almost easy enough to pretend it was real.

“What are you doing here?” The words felt bitter in Robin’s mouth. A few days ago, she would have been delighted to see Nancy at her doorstep.

“I’m here for you, of course.” Nancy took a step forward. “I want to finish our little get together from earlier. Aren’t you in the mood?”

Jonathan tried to grab for Nancy’s arm, but she escaped his grasp. It was shocking that Nancy seemed to be moving with even more elegance than she usually did. It somehow made Robin feel even smaller, more inadequate, than she usually did. Because even in her current stance she portrayed a lack of elegance that she had never seen on another girl.

“I’m not sure I am in the mood,” Robin responded, a soft breath escaping her mouth without consent. She had barely registered the way she had been holding her breath.

“Oh, poor Robin. Can’t you make some time for your dear friend. I really would love to speak to you.” Nancy’s voice sounded off. Like she was playing a character.

In the back of her mind Robin heard El’s voice. I think she might be… flayed. So, maybe she was playing a character. Or rather, maybe Vecna was playing a character. Was it Vecna? Or was the Mind Flayer its own boss? Robin wasn’t sure anymore. Maybe she had missed too much of the beginning.

“Nancy.” She felt almost stupid saying that name. Because every step Nancy took toward her made her look less like Nancy.

“Robin, Robin, Robin.” Each time Nancy’s voice uttered her name, she took a step closer. “I’m really going to enjoy ripping your heart out.”

When Jonathan tried to grab Nancy’s arm again, he succeeded. His hand tight around the limb. Robin worried it was hurting Nancy. But the girl simply turned towards the boy she used to love with a smirk on her face. All it took was one push for him to go flying through the room. Robin wanted to scream. But not a single sound escaped her.

Maybe she had gotten lucky that Nancy seemed to be distracted. It would have been the perfect moment for Robin to run, as Nancy walked over to Jonathan’s limp body and El jumped into action to defend her brother. This was how Robin could get out. But she was locked into place, simply destined to watch. So, she did.

She watched as Nancy straddled Jonathan’s body. She watched as those slender fingers gripped for Jonathan’s throat. She watched as Jonathan defended himself and Nancy pushed him in the face. She watched as El threw Nancy off her brother without so much as taking one step closer.

And then Nancy laughed. She laughed as she crawled up. There was blood on her knuckles and a grin on her face and yet she still looked beautiful. Robin was well aware she shouldn’t be thinking about that now.

She continued watching and yet she didn’t see what happened. All she knew was that in the blink of an eye El lay unconscious on the floor and fear gripped at Robin’s heart.

Nancy released a long breath. “Finally, just you and me.”

Robin felt the hairs on her arm stand upright. She wanted to crawl into the corner of the room. She stayed standing where she stood. “Why do you want me?”

Nancy rolled her eyes dramatically. “I don’t, she does.”

“Alright, well what does she want from me?”

“It’s hard to say. But it’s a distraction. You, Robin, are a distraction. And I can’t have any distractions.”

One hand squeezed Robin’s throat. Just like before. She tried to find a sign on Nancy’s face, an indicator of what she was meant to do. Nancy was the one who came up with plans. Nancy was the one who took charge. And now Nancy was gone, and Robin was struggling to breathe in more ways than one.

She thought about dying. She thought about whether or not there would be a heaven and hell and where she’d end up. If the religious were right, she’d be burning for all eternity. But Robin was certain it wouldn’t hurt as much as this very moment. Nothing could ever hurt that much.

Her eyes fell to Nancy’s lips. They weren’t smiling anymore. They weren’t doing anything. Robin wasn’t sure what came over her. She pushed against Nancy’s hand to get closer, to close that damned space between them and then she connected their lips. It was shocking how nice it felt. Or maybe it wasn’t shocking at all because it was still Nancy. These were Nancy’s lips and no matter who had poisoned her brain, that fact would never change.

It took a few moments before Nancy’s lips started moving against her own, even before Robin’s lips moved. But as Nancy started kissing her, her hand slacked and fell off Robin’s neck only to get a hold of Robin’s shirt, pulling. Pulling Robin closer.

The kiss didn’t last long. Perhaps half a minute, and then Nancy pulled away. Her blue eyes were wet with unshed tears, one of her hands was gripping the fabric at Robin’s shoulder while the other dangled next to her body. Her lips were wet, and Robin vaguely realized that it was because of her own saliva.

“Robin?” It was barely audible.

“Nance, are you alright?”

“I— How do you know it’s me?” Nancy sounded like she wanted to cry and perhaps she did.

“Your eyes. You have blue eyes. But when you were flayed, they were dark and… your eyes.”

“You kissed me,” Nancy whispered. Almost as if she spoke too loudly it would cease to be true.

“I did. You kissed back.”

“I did.” Nancy’s hand let go of Robin’s shirt. She missed it.

“I would— do you— I—” Robin couldn’t seem to speak.

“Why did you kiss me?” Nancy interrupted.

Robin sighed. “I was about to die and— I guess I didn’t care about consequences because I had nothing to lose.”

“Would you like— does that mean— I think that—” Nancy stumbled over her words. “Would you like there to be consequences?”

Robin blinked a few times. “What do you mean?”

“I want to kiss you again,” Nancy answered.

“Oh, those kinds of consequences?”

Nancy nodded, eyes locked in on their target.

“I would like there to be those kinds of consequences.”

“Thank God.” Nancy leaned in, and Robin was certain God had nothing to do with this. This was all Nancy.

#prompts #ronance #flayed Nancy #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #my work #stranger things #fanfic #robin x nancy #nancy x robin #ronance fic #I actually really like this one #there is violence in this #but not that much

[irondadidontfeelsogood]

cw: vomit

Faking It

—————

Peter squirms in his seat, the AC not nearly cold enough. He’s been sweating from violent nausea for the past half hour, and his stomach is going to kill him. He feels so sick.

“Tony…I know we just stopped and all, but could we please pull over for a little while?”

Tony sighs. “Kid, I told you to use the bathroom.”

“I did, it’s—it’s not that.”

“Alright, then what is it?”

Peter groans, his nausea peaking. He should really tell Tony he’s sick, but he doesn’t feel good enough to speak anymore. His mouth is flooding with watery spit.

“Seriously, kid, we’re not gonna make check-in time at this point.”

Peter shuts up. He’s tired of feeling like a burden. He just curls into himself and looks out the window to the horizon. Maybe that’ll make his stomach stop churning.

He lasts another fifteen minutes, and then he’s pin-straight in his seat, the color draining from his face all at once. His stomach gives an almighty lurch, and he throws up a little in his mouth. He swallows it back.

“Tony, I’m really not feeling good back here,” he chokes out.

“Shit, kid, you get carsick?”

“I don’t know, I just—I think I’m about to throw up.”

Tony swerves his way to the side of the road, but it’s too late. Peter pitches forward, spewing a huge wave of vomit all over his sneakers, his jeans, and the floorboards. By the time the car rolls to a stop, Peter has thrown up three times.

He yanks the door open and all but falls out, vomiting on the grass at the side of the highway right in front of God and everyone. He’s coughing, and retching, and choking, and he’s going to die. He’s sure of it.

By the time his stomach is empty, he’s shaking and seeing stars. He spits, wiping his mouth off on his sleeve. He’s gotta change, anyway.

Tony lets out a string of curses from the drivers seat. Peter’s face burns hot. He turns back toward Tony.

“I’m so sorry,” he nearly sobs, full on exhausted. He wants to go home.

“It’s—it’s fine, kid. Just get in the passengers seat.”

“Okay,” Peter murmurs, thoroughly mortified.

He gets in, stinking like puke, and doesn’t bother buckling himself in. The hotel is only ten minutes away.

The rest of the ride is silent, and though Peter’s stomach feels a lot better, he’s in an awful mood. He’s ruined everything. Instead of going to the conference tomorrow, Tony’s going to have to get his car detailed. Hopefully at Peter’s expense.

They pull up at the hotel, and Tony tells Peter to wait in the car while he checks in so they can just sneak back in through the side and avoid too much attention. Peter obeys, wishing he wasn’t starting to feel nauseous again. By the time Tony comes back out, Peter feels like he’s going to throw up.

He’s quiet as he gets out, being led by a hand on his back. He stares at the floor as they board the elevator, and his eyes stay glued to the floor the whole time until they get in the room.


His stomach turns, and he quickly locks himself in the bathroom, collapsing in front of the toilet. The rest of his lunch comes spilling out noisily. Tony knocks on the door.

“Go away,” Peter chokes out, vomiting again. Tony’s seen him puke enough today.

“I’m just bringing you some clean clothes, kid.”

“Leave them—,” he pukes. “Leave them at the door.”

He’s shaking violently and heaving uncontrollably. He’s not entirely sure his entire stomach isn’t going to fall out. He’s feverish and sore all over.

By the time he can get himself to stop gagging, it’s been ten whole minutes. He uses toilet paper to wipe his mouth and then flushes the toilet, standing on weak legs. He washes his mouth out in the sink.

As requested, Tony left the clean clothes by the door, and once he’s changed, he gathers the courage to face Tony again. His face is burning. It takes everything in him not to get upset.

Tony looks over when he walks in. He’s looking at Peter with pity, and he hates that. He just wants to pretend that none of it ever happened.

“Did that make you feel better?”

He shakes his head slowly, lowering to sit on the mattress. “I’m really sorry I threw up in your car. I should’ve said something sooner.”

“Well, I can’t exactly argue with that second part, but you don’t need to apologize. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not, you’re gonna miss half the conference tomorrow waiting for someone to clean up my puke.”

Tony laughs a little, but Peter isn’t finding any of this funny at all. Tears sting in his eyes, and when Tony sees them spill over, the smile drops from his face. He sits down next to him and settles a hand on his back.

“Hey, I’m not laughing at you. And as for the car, I’m gonna get it cleaned tonight, okay? Everything will be fine for tomorrow. I really don’t want to leave you alone here sick, though.”

Peter feels a surge of panic in his chest. He wipes at his face. “I’ll be fine, I promise. I think it was just something I ate.”

Saying those words out loud makes his stomach churn. He immediately feels sick again. Round three might be coming on sooner than he hoped. He groans.

“Let’s hope so.”

He lays down on his side, curling into himself. Maybe if he can go to sleep, he’ll avoid throwing up again. The turning in his stomach violently disagrees.

He feels Tony’s weight shift from the bed, and he opens his eyes just a little. Tony rubs a hand over his face and goes to look out the window. Peter hates that he’s ruined this whole thing.

He turns over so that Tony won’t see him cry. He feels like such a burden. He has no idea why he gets sick so often, and always at the worst possible time.

Eventually, he does somehow manage to fall asleep. The only reason he knows is because he wakes up at three in the morning, more nauseous than he can ever remember being. He sits up in the darkness, laying a hand on his stomach and willing it to settle.

When he feels something warm at the back of his throat, he immediately gets out of bed and walks to the bathroom as silently as he manage. The last thing he needs is for Tony to know he’s still not feeling good. That would just make everything worse.

He kneels in front of the toilet and begs whoever will listen to keep him from throwing up. He begs, and prays, and begs some more, and then, he vomits as quietly as he can. There’s only so much he can do.

His stomach aches badly, sore from earlier and pissed at whatever is causing this. He can’t believe he still has anything left to throw up. It’s like he ate an entire meal before the last round and this one.

Finally, he stops retching, and thankfully Tony hasn’t knocked on the door. He makes his way back to bed and lays down, eyeing Tony’s sleeping body in the bed next to his. He feels the smallest bit of relief.

After a while, he manages to get back to sleep. He prays he’ll be better in the morning. It’s all he’s asking.

Unfortunately, when he does wake, it’s not peacefully. His stomach is churning, and his head hurts. He feels like he got hit by a bus, and he knows all too well what that feels like.

Tony is awake and already getting ready to go. That’s a good sign that Peter hasn’t completely ruined everything. A little more relief settles in his chest.

“Hey,” he breathes out.

Tony turns around. “Oh, hey, kid. How are you feeling?”

“A lot better,” he lies, and it’s like karma hits him immediately. His stomach rages like hellfire. “I’m great.”

Tony doesn’t look convinced. He walks over to the foot of Peter’s bed. “You sure? Cause I’m pretty sure people don’t turn green when they’re feeling great.”

“I’m good, I promise.”

“Yeah? You hungry?”

And that just feels mean. It almost makes him drop the act. Almost.

He nods. “Mhm. Do they serve breakfast here?”

Still skeptical, Tony nods slowly. “Wanna go get some before I leave?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, hating himself entirely.

“Alright, get dressed and we’ll head down.”

“‘kay.”

Peter forces himself out of bed, and the movement of bending over to get clothes out of his suitcase nearly has him projectile vomiting on the floor. He swallows repeatedly, picking a shirt and jeans at random. He goes to the bathroom to change and almost considers trying to sneak and vomit quietly, but he doubts he’ll be able to manage it while Tony’s awake.

He sighs, trying to collect himself before leaving the bathroom. Tony wasn’t lying when he said Peter was green. He looks awful, but there’s nothing he can do about it.

Tony is waiting on him outside. He forces a smile onto his face and follows Tony to the elevator. The small drop it does when the ride begins almost sends him doubling over. He just barely holds himself together.

When they get to the dining area, Peter’s stomach is rolling. He fills up his plate with the lightest food he can find, which isn’t really light at all. He has two pancakes and some eggs, and because Tony is watching him, he grabs some fruit too.

The only thing that seems mildly appealing is the bottle of water he snags before sitting down. He puts on his absolute best act and braves the first pancake. It goes down like wet cement.

Tony is still watching him, probably entirely expecting him to fold at any moment. He refuses. He’s going to get a damn Oscar at this point.

By the time he’s finished, he feels so sick that he could faint. Thankfully, though, he seems to have passed the test. Tony takes him back up to the room.

“Alright. I guess I’m going, but this is your last chance. If you’re half as sick as you look, you better tell me now.”

The temptation to tell the truth hits Peter like a brick, but he’s sticking to the plan. He swallows down the urgent, rising feeling and shakes his head. What a liar.

“I’m okay, Tony. You should leave before you’re late.”

“Shit,” Tony replies, looking at his watch. “You’re right. Okay, call me if you need anything, alright? If you feel sick again, I’ll come back early.”

“Okay. Thank you,” he manages, his stomach pressing hard into his throat.

His stomach is in shreds by the time Tony walks out the door. Suddenly, he’s overwhelmed with the nausea he’s been suppressing all morning, and the room spins. He can’t even turn toward the bathroom before the first gag tears through his throat.

Right there in the middle of the room, Peter bends at the waist and throws up all over the floor. His whole body is shaking, and he can hardly hold himself up. He braces himself on the TV stand and vomits again.

The discomfort of throwing up a meal that has had less than five minutes to digest is indescribable. The effort makes his head spin. He doesn’t stop retching until long after he’s thrown up everything he ate.

He’s still doubled over and panting when he suddenly hears the door click, and his heart pounds in his chest. He looks up to see Tony standing in the doorway with solemn concern on his face. He walks in and closes the door behind him.

“Yeah, I had a feeling that might be about to happen,” he says, taking his coat off. Peter is speechless. He walks over and lays a hand on Peter’s back. “Do you think you’re done?”

Peter nods, straightening up. His stomach still really hurts, but he’s not insanely nauseous anymore. He’s just mortified.

Tony urges him to take his shoes off and then leads him to his bed. He scoots the trash can so that it’s in reach. Peter wilts, his face flushed.

“So, when were you planning on telling me that you’re still sick?”

“…Probably when you got back.”

Tony nods slowly. “Figured as much.”

Tears well up in Peter’s eyes again. He’d tried so hard. “I’m really sorry,” he breathes out.

“I just wish you would’ve been honest with me, kid. Could’ve probably saved the hotel staff some trouble.”

“Sorry,” he repeats, the tears spilling over.

Tony wraps an arm around his shoulders, and he melts into the touch. Everything sucks. He wants to go home.

“I think I’m really sick.”

“Yeah, I’d say so. Considering that,” he replies, gesturing toward the splattered remains of Peter’s breakfast on the floor.

“I just meant that it’s something more than what I ate. I threw up in the middle of the night, too, and I think I have a fever,” he admits. If he’s being honest now, he might as well own up to all of it.

Tony sighs. “Oh, kid…I’m sorry. You should’ve woken me up.”

Peter shakes his head. “I really wanted you to be able to go,” he says quietly, more tears spilling over.

“There’s about a million of these things a year, Peter. It’s okay. Please don’t be upset, it’s not your fault you’re sick.”

Peter stays quiet, not trusting his voice. Tony sits with him for a while, and then he urges him to sleep while he calls Pepper and catches up on some things. Exhausted, Peter obeys, drifting off slowly to the clicking sound of Tony’s keyboard.

—————

A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think :)

#peter parker sickfic #peter parker #iron dad sickfic #iron dad #marvel sickfic #sickfic #cw vomit #hurt/comfort

[kitkatt0430]

Congrats for managing to finish The Flash! You're braver than any U.S marine, tbh. I left it when I could, lmao. It's been. . . wild seeing how it played out. Okay, here's a fun question: top 10 missed opportunities they failed to take. And which of those you wish to explore in fic? I'm sorry if this is a lot but yeah.

P.S: Eddie is genuinely back and alive??? No B.S?? I am shookth.

Thank you. I get most of my courage from my dog, who lets me rant to her about poor plotting when I watch Flash episodes as long as I give her scritches and encourage her vendetta with the squirrels. :D

Hmmm, Top Ten Missed Opportunities...

In no particular order

1.) Not bringing Harry back in S5. He still had a lot more story to tell and exploring how he learns to live with his new disabilities would have been better than what we got with Sherloque. I mean, the new Wells always winds up growing on me because Tom always had a lot of fun bringing the Wells variants to life, but Harry leaving the Team was very abrupt and his story wasn't done. And now it'll always be this big question mark hanging over the character.

This is definitely something I'd be interested in exploring in fic. I've done so already to very small degrees, but it's definitely something I want to take a deeper look at eventually.

2.) Leonard Snart leading the Rogues. There was the build up and no payoff, thanks to the Legends stealing Len and then killing him off. Leonard Snart and his Rogues are a big deal in the comics, so not having that group come together as a legitimate threat to Barry in the show is always going to be a big disappointment. It meant no more Lisa Snart too, which was really unfortunate.

Guess I'm just gonna have to keep writing my 'Rogues as a dysfunctional found family' fics and imagining what could have been.

3.) Failing to give Cisco a proper send off. After promising an interesting plot for Cisco before S7 began, the build up for him leaving was basically a series of background events in other people's stories. His final episode, though very fun, felt very much like they'd forgotten Carlos was leaving the show until the last minute and had to scramble to send off Cisco.

I've kind of written around the issue, but for me the fix fic is Cisco not leaving at all. So I don't think a proper send off story is in the works for me to write.

4.) Making Frost a lesbian. After failing to keep Hartley in the pilot and having a queer character on the main cast from the start, they should have had an openly queer character on the show at some point. Frost would have been a great choice for this and it would have avoided the relationship with Mark Blaine who was a character that never should have joined the main cast. Allegra being queer would have been lovely too. Or Chester. Just... someone ought to have been out.

Of course they're all queer characters when I write them, so... :D

5.) Never fixing the STAR Labs building. It's a little thing, but restoring the building would have been a great metaphor for the team pulling back together after a time of upheaval. Or perhaps showing the differences in the timeline after Flashpoint.

I did address this point. With squirrels. :D

6.) Taking away Cisco's powers instead of developing them further. Cisco's powers in the comics are truly phenomenal and watching Cisco grow from fearing them to enjoying them on screen was lovely. The abrupt one-eighty on his feelings towards his powers in S5 looks far too much like a bad reaction to breaking up with Cynthia and reeks of the show runners not knowing how to handle writing Vibe. After all that build up for Cisco as Vibe, throwing it down the drain was a massively wasted opportunity.

Giving Cisco back his powers or having him never ditch them at all is definitely something I feature in my fanfics with Cisco that take place in S5 or afterwards.

7.) Not making Hartley more like his comics self. They had every opportunity to grow his character, especially when they reintroduced him post Crisis. And they never did despite clearly being aware the comics character is a much beloved one.

Hartley fix-its are definitely a favorite flavor of my fanfic writing, however. And my fanfic reading. :D

8.) Wally 'graduating' from Kid Flash to Flash. Wally is one of the more popular Flashes in the comics and he deserved to have that acknowledged on the show.

This is something I'll get around to writing fix-its for eventually. I still can't believe the show ended and Wally is still just Kid Flash with the yellow and red suit.

9.) Not having children as metas. We got Frankie, but that's basically it. (Jax was a high school student in 2013, but had graduated by the time he showed up in S2.) The accelerator had to have affected children. Teens sneaking out at night, late night school events like band concerts, younger siblings at football games, etc...

I'm not great at writing kids, but addressing the lack of children as metas is something I want to write. Such as my much younger Joss Jackam that I want to return to at some point. (Also because that version of Mark Mardon is adorable too.)

10.) Only having Flashpoint as a single episode. Flashpoint was a big deal in the comics and would have been a lot more impactful if it had been a longer arc.

Personally, I think the resolution to Flashpoint should have been tied into Nora's death coming full circle for Barry. Though I did think the episode where that night did come full circle was well done. But eventually I will wind up writing my own version of both Flashpoint and how Barry came to tell his S1 self not to stop Eobard from murdering Nora.

And, yup, Eddie's alive again in canon. He's been thoroughly mind screwed by the Negative Speed Force and is still it's Avatar, but destroying the N!SF's crystal and actively choosing not to hate Barry - to set aside his resentment over the life he didn't get to have - seems to have had a profound affect on the interior of the N!SF. Hopefully Eddie's innate good nature will have prove to cause a permanent change to the N!SF itself, making them allies for Team Flash in the future. Though, as Eddie noted, he's not always going to agree with Barry or want to do things Barry's way, so... it's an interesting place to leave him even if I disagree with how he got there.

#kitkatt0430 answers #the flash #fandom meta #the flash meta #kitkatt0430 rambles #season 9 spoilers

[constantvariations]

V9C10

Here it is, folks. Season finale of the worst RWBY season to ever be made. Yee to the haw

Post Ep: nowhere near as offensive as what I was expecting but holy exposition dump Batman

Noticing this one is 26 minutes long as opposed to last ep’s 16. Thank fuck, I was genuinely worried the finale was going to be bite sized

I swear on every god ever made that if I hear that damn question again I Will Find People

Having this flashback right after the numerous cliffhangers of the last episode is really strange. Unless this is something Ruby is seeing after touching the axe, then this should not be front and center

Is Summer’s hair even long enough to pull off that rose knot? As the y/n protagonist always throwing their hair in a messy bun, I’m no expert on hairstyles, but every time I’ve seen a hair design like that, it’s always been with hair down to the shoulder blades at least

What the hell is that line “I always prefer discretion”? It sounds so unnatural coming from these people and that awkward chuckle afterword cringed my spine into a pretzel. This couple with a child and possible marriage feel like awkward dates at the prom

Why are the mouth animations for smiles this season so damn weird? I wouldn’t be surprised if the animators forgot what a smile looks like considering their circumstances Also does Raven look off to anyone else? I can’t put my finger on it but it’s not quite the same as her V5 model Also also, this makes it really fucking stupid that Yang’s original purpose to finding Raven was to get information on Summer and IT WAS NEVER FOLLOWED THROUGH

OKAY Ruby was seeing it! Thank fuck they got SOMETHING right

Someone put some damn captions on this bitch. I should not be hearing the kits messing with the recycling more than the dialogue

Ruby hasn’t been violent when upset since Weiss and the tree in V1 iirc. Strange trait to bring back now, but aight Also, how the fuck do you get “give up” from “maybe you ain’t the only bitch with this problem.” That’s some Reed Richards stretching right there

Aaaaaaaand back to fucking Jaune. It amuses me that characters who ire me intensely get “fucking” added to their name like an honorific

Alyx’s hair straight up looks like the dusters I use to clean fiber out of the machines at work

Blake straight up did nothing for the solid ten seconds Nyeo attacked her lmaooo

Hey, look! Team attacks! When the fuck did those get strategized?

Listen, I genuinely feel bad for Neo here. I don’t care about the bullshit of last episode; no one deserves to have their body violated like that

Holy fuck that is a visual monstrosity my eyes are fucking burning

“Your time is running out” bitch the caterpillar got a whole day or two, why does Ruby get like. 2 hours max?

God can they stop with the bees we get it theyre canon stop the fucking bees I’m developing a goddamn allergy at this point

Hey, Weiss ain’t the first one to have her aura broken for once!

Feels stupid cheap to have Ruby choose herself because of a thing her mom said while she was asleep a decade ago instead of Ruby actually going through options and debating until she realizes that she can’t/doesn’t want to be anyone else Like. Nothing really happened to make her switch from suicidal to accepting? She saw a flashback, had a vague conversation with the blacksmith, and looked at some weapons. Where is the development? Why is she suddenly okay with being Ruby Rose again when five minutes ago she drank the tea? The biggest thing so far is the flashback, but that’s stupid. Her mother’s impact should NOT be that great considering she a) hasn’t been around for the majority of Ruby’s life, therefore the only tie between them is blood relations and b) was JUST revealed to have left the family willingly for secret reasons

The music is dope though. Red Like Roses has always been one of my favorites

The “We Love Ruby! <3″ lines delivered one by one is so damn awkward. Is this an after school special? Weren’t these the exact kinds of lines that Weiss said LAST EPISODE were unhelpful to Ruby due to the pressure they inadvertently put on her?

Once again, I am asking what the fuck the Neojabbers are since her semblance is MIRROR ILLUSIONS not PHYSICAL TRANSFORMATION. Like, glad that even the heroes are horrified by someone being eaten alive, but it still doesn’t make any sense Also what’s going to happen to Wonderland without Curious as its monitor or whatever? How are the folks who can’t reach the tree without help going to ascend? Is this a good thing or is it going to send Wonderland into an unbalanced nightmare?

“[Neo] will find herself.” Uh huh. Sure MKEK. That’s the reason Neo’s staying in Wonderland instead of charging after Cinder with the force of a thousand suns. Y’all really dragged my dead gay son into this mess for this horseshit

“I like to think we did at least a little good.” Exactly when did you guys help anybody? All I can think of is that stupid cheese root from the first episode

If Little follows them into Remnant I’m throwing RT into the ocean. Especially if they don’t let Juniper come along. That dude is the only mf in this season that didn’t get fucked over

Is this one-by-one dialogue about another character’s traits going to be a thing? I’m already sick of it

Somewhat. That’s the new name. Why couldn’t they go with the standard Socks or Blue or Kai or insert other silly common nb name here. Do you know how difficult it’s going to be making that sound natural?

I genuinely am uncomfortable at this reunion. Ruby’s incredibly emotional but Somewhat is just kinda there. Reminds me way too much of meeting someone who knew me as a kid and get way too intimate because of that (it happened a lot since my grams raised like. half the town back in the day) Did they really just throw this in to throw it in? What’s the point of this deeply creepy scene other than answering the question of “what happened to Little?”

Nooo bring Juniper with you!!! They’re the only good character!!!

Hold hands and jump at the same time. Reach the ground at different times. Aight

So the gods were originally Afterans? “The tree’s earliest blossoms.” That raises so many fucking questions: how did Remnant come to be if it’s an entirely separate dimension(?) from Wonderland? What connects the two? Are the entities in the relics Afterans as well? If so, are they in the relics willingly? Were they created by the brothers or the tree? Does this make the tree the source of all life as they know it? What powers the tree? If Wonderland goes to shit, will that affect Remnant and any other playgrounds the brothers or other gods might have made?

These mfs really using Mr Monty’s words to justify their shitty god tier writing?

Why did the brothers build modern human houses for the animal creatures instead of creature specific housing (a dam for beavers, a nest for birds, etc)? This seems to be early stages of life so I don’t think you need to delve straight into Craftsman architecture

The jabber origin is so dumb. These idiot brothers tried to design a lawnmower and made Jason Voorhees Also, that doesn’t even make sense. Wonderland is a self contained ecosystem where all energy essentially gets recycled. The jabber disrupts that by permanently ending whoever it gets its chompers on. This would make more sense if we saw new life coming in, but so far it seems like all the tree creations happened back in the day and everything now is a brother creation. Since we’ve yet to see any evidence of their return, this means that there is a finite amount of life in Wonderland, meaning that the jabber, given enough time, could end all life within because it has no other purpose and no counterbalancing force Though, since Neo killed(?) the jabber, does this mean there is no force working for or against the living in Wonderland? Seriously, what the fuck is going to happen here?

“True balance requires only love and the patience to see things through to the end.” Tell me you’re begging for a v10 greenlight without telling me you’re begging for a v10 greenlight That’s not even remotely true because balance, especially among the sentient, requires EFFORT and COOPERATION. Or did y’all already forget your “trust in love” season got people murdered?

LITTLE DIDN’T EVEN FUCKING DO ANYTHING JFC THEY WERE SEXY LAMPING THE WHOLE SEASON

Jaune is young again. Many shocking. Much wow

“When you are needed most.” It better be in that fucking desert y’all dumped two whole ass cities in with only like. 4 trained warriors against a horde of grimm in a sandstorm

Nope! That would’ve been too straining on the budget much of a downer to end on. Still shot of Sepia - I mean, Vacuo and that’s it! Show’s over, folks!

I can’t discern a single word but I like the ending song lol

THESE MFS REALLY ADVERTISING THE JL CROSSOVER AFTER THE EP OHMYGODDDDDDDDD

#rwde #suicide mention tw #I truly have no words for this lmao #i am exhausted #hope you fucking burn rt #and may your cult fanatics burn with you

[rylliejay]

Okay, do not take this as a negative. I really really enjoyed the movie. THAT said, i feel it could have been better, it could have been great.

So. Here's how I'd have edited Rebel Moon, if Zack Snyder had asked.

1) id have opened en media rez. Played like ten seconds of the scene from kora's flashback when she's charging across the dusty battlefield. She plants the flag. Hard cut to the silence of her plowing the field.

2) when the old man is asking her why she can't settle down, "i can't take a lover (buzz word) it means something different to me. I'm not made like that. -" im a child of war etc....

3) instead of kora telling Gunnar unprompted her entire life story, she mostly stops after describing her planets demise, saying the only reason she survived is because they took her to be a soldier

4) everything's the same except when Gunnar says he knows when the bloodaxes are hiding makes the scene when noble tortures the informant redundant. Either Gunnar doesn't tell the audience or some lackey comes up to noble and tells him "we've found where the bloodaxes are" we already know he's willing to torture, we already know where they are, the only thing this scene tells us is how the nail guns work. But we can figure that out on our own. It's a nail gun .

5) tarak's introduction left a lot to desire. The way everyone came in and started asking about everything, i feel since everyone else is talking about their damage it would have followed the im world logic for him to say something about "my only crime to the motherland is to exist. But their crime against me is great and worthy of retribution. Except I'm stuck here." Or some such. Idk i feel it was muddy

6) having kora tell Gunnar about the princess being hope personified was redundant since Jimmy and sam already had the same conversation. Idk what else she'd say here, but i feel it could be distinguished a bit more. Maybe since the OTHER scene that it's copying (other flashback) is shortened then that would help this one stand on it's own?

7) kai standing around evil monologuing to the trapped heroes and then IMMEDIATELY noble standing around evil monologuing to the trapped heroes is extremely redundant. Also, this is now a big reveal that kora was adopted by what's his face. The regent. Everyone turns to look upon her in mixes of horror and wonder.

8) the line "i never really liked the pilot" should have been said while walking past his body and kicking it or something. He was a major character who was killed. He should be treated like a main character. It literally only takes showing his body when that line is said and holding off the pan out by 2 seconds.

9) I'd also have Kora slowly go from saying "we need to save Gunner's home" to "we need to save my home" because i spent most of them movie thinking she'd completed her whole arc in the first however many minutes before she slaughtered the soldiers things protect sam. But she DOES have an arc, as shown by the lines "sometime something i want to live" talking to the old man vs. " It is (a good place to die)" at the end. That she wants to spend her whole life here until she dies. That she found something worth dying for. But she never takes about it . She should talk about it more. We should see it

PLEASE don't take this as me not liking the movie, if I didn't like it i wouldn't have cared enough to write this out. It was a BEAUTIFUL movie with interesting characters who i am excited to see more of. My list is under 10 points, that's pretty good. Can't wait for part 2 to come out!!

#rebel moon #zack snyder

[aqueeracademic]

morse being queer (and other commentary) pt 15:

season 4, episode 3, “Lazaretto”:

- my expectations are really low for this episode

- the last episode was so aggressively gay i’m just assuming this one won’t be

- unfortunate but here we are!

- ew i hate hospitals

- i love old nurse uniforms though

- elite fashion tbh

- morse in a wife beater agenda ‼️

- of fucking course joan called him from a goddam pay phone

- i’m IRRITATED 🗣️

- my tv is glitching the fuck out

- fixed it!

- anyways

- the head nurse reminds me of the sister in fleabag and i always think it’s her but it’s not

- and that’s my story

- morse uses the same body language with debryn that he uses with women he’s attracted to

- i’m just saying 🤷‍♀️

- the way everyone looks at the parrot is so fucking funny

- we are barely ten minutes into this episode and we’re already headed to the armory

- NO BRIGHT NO

- anyone but bright.

- you can kill ANY CHARACTER

- bright killed a tiger tho i’m pretty sure he’s immortal at this point

- no because listen

- debryn is perfect for morse

- IM SERIOUS

- he comes to the hospital immediately out of loyalty to the precinct and also because he knows morse is there alone

- he immediately tells morse who is in the operating room and that the surgeon is talented and morse doesn’t have to worry

- and then promises to go see what’s what for morse so he doesn’t have to wear himself out

- and THEN he brings morse’s mind back to the case hes working on because he knows morse copes by working and wants to take his mind off bright

- debryn knows all the ins and outs of morse’s brain and respects every facet of him and works in favor of him every time without fail

- hes fucking perfect

- i love him

- everyone loves bright so much i’m sick

- the head nurse reminds me of the evil lady from chicken run

- i hate this lady caroline

- she didn’t really do anything wrong in this moment with morse but like

- you are the mother of the woman who broke morse as a human being and forever scarred his perception of love

- and then ur gonna brag about what her new man is doing? just to rub it in that he “wasn’t good enough” for her and still isn’t?

- despicable.

- i don’t even wanna promote the queer aspects of that even tho it would be easy to

- because that was just fucking cruel

- and morse deserved better

- it cannot be comfortable for bakewell to have his arm cuffed up like that for that long

- they should do it lower for sure

- justice for winnie ‼️‼️‼️

- i love her i just want her to be happy

- trewlove is so worried about bright

- bright and trewlove 🤞🤞 i love them

- “We were engaged to be married. And then we weren’t.”

- THIS is why morse is the most relateable fictional character ever to me personally

- because he SIMPLIFIES this sort of stuff

- he could tell the whole story

- say what transpired and why she left and what he did wrong or didn’t do wrong and who she’s with now and why he became a cop instead of pushing himself and being happy

- but he says this.

- we were and then we weren’t.

- because all human experience can be taken as that.

- we are and then we aren’t

- and it’s all very simple

- and despite all the pain he feels and all the ways it’s affected his life

- he knows it’s as simple as that

- THIS FUCKING SHOW RAHHHSHEKFOSK 🦅🦅🦅

- the way that nurse mills keeps side eyeing morse

- girl calm down

- the way morse runs 💀

- go morse go! 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

- thursday should not have left bakewell and i stand by that

- even though nothing happens someone should have stayed with him to keep him safe

- but noooo 🙄🙄🙄 thursday has to care about morse and make sure he’s okay

- morse just visiting debryn for fun at this point

- monica 🥺🥺

- JESUS THURSDAY

- slamming his head against the brick wall is so wild

- unnecessary some might say!

- perhaps even… police brutality!

- which you’ve been suspended for!!

- every time i start to like him 🙄🙄

- oh my GOD monica is so beautiful

- “treat the next one better.”

- GET HIM MONICA

- both of them avoiding the question “are you happy?”

- final straw

- the way thursday just hates having brights job

- it’s so funny

- thursday loves winnie so much i’m SICK

- i’ll prolly never get married but if i do i want it to be like them

- the way this show handles mental health issues is like

- actually not that bad

- like 8/10 times they do a really good job

- especially given the time period

- he’s a murderer and all but bakewell is funny as fuck

- “i get the uncontrollable urge to murder nosy parkers 😡. ta for the grapes 🥰🥰!”

- like ok??!

- funny as fuck

- that picture of joan is absolutely foul

- just throwing it out there

- “i had a reverse charges call from leamington.” “wasnt me.”

- i hate her right now

- i know i said i loved her like two posts ago but i fucking hate her

- like she’s intentionally hurting these people and doesn’t care

- like how does she just not care how much what she’s doing is affecting the people in her life?

- i know she’s traumatized

- but ONE phone call to ur parents wouldn’t kill you 🙄

- i have 0 understanding of how she’s blaming herself for the death at the bank

- they didn’t know who she was until he was already dead

- like girl get it together

- “i don’t care.” “i do.” “you shouldn’t.”

- GIRL SHUT UP ‼️‼️

- pissing me tf off

- anyways 😐

- bright is so 🥺🥺

- just a little guy tbh

- GIVE BRIGHT CHILDREN🗣️🗣️🗣️ (he’s like 80 years old do not give him kids)

- what is this trend of bringing grapes to people in the hospital? is that something i should be aware of?

- goddam morse’s ex is RICH

- the way that people don’t like dr. powell because they think he’s a ladies man but he literally just wants to be a doctor 😭

- let my man breathe!

- the way susan was sick TWO YEARS AGO and morse looks worried like it’s happening right now

- “have you spoken to susan?” “yes. i haven’t mentioned you.”

- girl shut your bitchass up

- sick and tired of your classist bullshit

- this guy talking to corpses is so 🤨🤨

- NO BAKEWELL‼️

- what the fuck.

- how on earth is dr. powell working from 7:30 in the morning until after 3 in the morning the next day

- how does he function

- stop 🥺 the way morse turns his back before strange opens the trunk and then just peeks over his shoulder to look

- he’s a fucking pussy 😐

- KIDDING

- i’m obsessed w him and i truly believe his inability to look at the deceased is his most endearing quality

- thursday cares about morse sm i’m SICK

- NAUR THEYRE PUTTING BRIGHT IN BED TEN

- morse talking to the parrot is funny as fuck tbh

- morse is obsessed w debryn

- how the fuck did debryn notice a microscopic wound on someone’s ass

- he’d have to be STUDYING that ass

- wild!

- anywho

- i love the way morse talks to debryn and debryn talks to morse

- just two geniuses bouncing off each other 🥰🥰

- trewlove OUT OF UNIFORM coming to visit bright is so sweet

- it’s like he has a daughter

- i’m obsessed ✋🙄

- okay i was wrong. powell is a terrible person!

- the nurses are dramatic asf tbh

- i cannot imagine real nurses behaving this way

- oh my god susan’s dad died

- this could be my breaking point!

- i also would love to point out the fact that morse insists on formalities in most if not all situations, meaning he refers to people as “Ms./Mrs./Mr. ____”

- but he calls susan’s mom “Caroline”

- just her first name and nothing else

- like he and susan were engaged to be married

- like he really loved her and she maybe really loved him

- like at some point her parents loved morse and took him in

- like they treated him like family

- like they were excited for him to marry their daughter and therefore let him call them by their first names

- like they were close

- like a family

- everything about what happened between him and susan HURTS and idk how to handle it

- also i FUCKING HATE CAROLINE

- “I’m so sorry.” “Are you?” “Yes, of course. Edgar was always very decent to me.” “Well, he always had a weakness for failures.”

- like YOUR DAUGHTER LEFT MORSE

- not the other way around

- i fucking hate classism

- there’s a whole other analysis i could do of this whole situation that would be about his queerness and how it could play into all this but i’m like

- i fucking hate caroline

- she sucks so bad

- like the way she tells him the CHIEF CONSTABLE RUPERT STANDISH said he would never amount to much

- which already is bullshit because of his involvement with landesman and wintergreen, meaning that he was involved with the group who intentionally sabotaged morse and are still attempting to now (he died in the neverland episode so it’s not him directly anymore but still)

- and then says “You didn’t even pass your sergeants exam!”

- which is bullshit because she doesn’t know what happened and he can’t defend himself because it’ll make it sound like he’s making excuses for what she’s interpreting as failures

- “You see, I was right about you, even then.” “When you speak to Susan please give her my condolences.” “And your love.” “No. No. Look, whatever you may think of me, I am truly sorry he’s dead.”

- the DISGUST on his face when she says “and your love”

- i fucking hate her

- and morse deserved better

- it’s obvious that what happened is still tearing him up even now

- and that’s why he’s so sensitive about people leaving him (jakes, joan)

- and why he will always assume people he’s in love with or carries any love for are going to leave

- i fucking hate this show ‼️‼️

- two female murderer episodes in a row i am running my hands together like a little mouse

- this girl is wild for killing that many people tbh

- morse hugging her instead of dragging her away ☹️

- he’s so gentle i HATE IT HERE

- thank fuck bright lived

- idk how i would have reacted if something happened tbh

- i cannot believe the only shot we get of susan is from the back 😐

- okay for you tarot kids!

- intersecting the tower card with the death card usually has a lot of negative meanings. it represents suffering, typically by means of illness or pain of some kind

- the death card is a typically pretty happy card despite the connotation, but when combined with the tower card it’s p shit

- the tower card usually represents suffering or destruction

- combing the two cards doesn’t bode well for morse and it’s our first intersection in the reading we’re getting at the end of these episodes!

- so far we have sacrifice, union, and now a traumatizing ending of something resulting in suffering

- things are not boding well for our boy!

#it is four in the morning #i have to be up at 8 #oh well #for the people! i shout #no one is listening #endeavour #endeavour itv #endeavour morse #morse #itv endeavour

[i-believe-in-melinda-may]

I think i broke my own heart....

After EJ leaves with her father Laura walks back over to where she left her bag. Once she gets to her bag Laura searches through it and pulls out a small, hand carved, wooden box that she brings with her whenever she travels.

Clutching the box in her hands Laura walks back over to the couch where she sits down, and after a few moments she opens it. Opening the box, the first thing Laura sees is her wedding ring, but she ignores that and instead picks up some of the pictures and letters that are in the box and starts to look at them.

As she is so focused on what she is doing Laura doesn’t realise when she is no longer alone, when, ten minutes later, Lee sits down next to her, and has a look at what she is looking at; a picture of her and Bill together, holding a newborn baby.

“So, which one of us is that?” Lee asks, causing his mother to jump in surprise, assuming it is either him or Zak based on how young his parents look. “Sorry,” Lee quickly says, feeling bad about scaring his mother.

“It’s okay,” Laura assures her son. “It’s you,” Laura tells Lee, handing him the photo so he can have a better look. “You were a week late, have I ever told you that?” Laura asks.

“Once or twice,” Lee says amused, as he remembers jokes being made when he was a teenager about how he is always late, even late being born.

“I was so anxious, I just wanted to meet you,” Laura tells her son who smiles at that. “Your Dad kept telling me that you’ll come when you were ready, that you’d do things in your own time, that I just had to be patient,” Laura admits, and Lee laughs at that as he knows it doesn’t go down well when someone tells his mother to be patient so he can’t imagine that ending well for his father when he tried that. “I didn’t want to be patient,” Laura admits, and Lee looks amused by that. “Your sisters’ birth was the hardest, but you were the longest,” Laura reveals, and Lee laughs at that. “Zak was easy compared to the two of you,” Laura admits.

“Sounds about right,” Lee says amused, the horrible feeling he had after his conversation he had with his sister back in his stomach at full force. “Mom, are you okay?” Lee asks worried, not being able to get rid of a feeling of dread that tells him that there is something seriously wrong with his mother.

“Just feeling a little sentimental,” Laura admits, purposely avoiding her sons’ direct question so she doesn’t lie to him. “Maybe it’s being here, or the reasons we’re here,” Laura says, reaching into the box to grab another picture and Lee frowns as he realises that his mother didn’t answer his question, she gave him a politicians answer something which she has never done before.  

“I remember that day,” Lee says when he realises the picture his mother picked up, the last picture they took with Zak, a picture of him, EJ and Zak taken by their mother.  “My twenty fourth birthday,” Lee remembers. “You insisted we take a photo together,” Lee remembers.

“And none of you wanted to, it was like herding cats to get you into position,” Laura says as he stares at the picture.

“We didn’t see the point,” Lee admits, knowing now he is incredibly grateful that his mother insisted on the photo. “Why did you want a photo so badly?” Lee asks, doing so because he never thought to.

“It was getting harder to see all three of you at the same time,” Laura admits, pain in her voice as she knows it’s now impossible. “I hadn’t gotten a picture of all three of you in a while, I didn’t want to waste the opportunity,” Laura admits. “I sent a copy to your father as soon as it was developed,” Laura admits.

“Mom…” Lee starts to say, realising where his mother is going with this.

“Lee, I know you blame your father, but Zak’s death was an accident,” Laura tells her son, her voice breaking as she is barely able to say the words. “When Zak told me wanted to join the service we had a long conversation, I wanted to make sure he was joining for the right reasons and not just because it was what he thought your father wanted,” Laura reveals, telling Lee something he never knew. “It was clear to me that it was something he truly wanted, he was so happy at the thought of flying, he wanted so desperately to be a viper pilot,” Laura admits, tears coming to her eyes as she talks about her lost son.

“Do you really think it’s that simple that Dad didn’t influence that desire at all?” Lee asks his mother, as he reaches out and takes her hand, hating to see her in so much pain, as he truly doesn’t believe it could be that simple.

“No, I don’t, but that doesn’t make Zak’s death your father’s fault,” Laura tells Lee and because it is clear that he doesn’t believe her Laura decides it’s time to show Lee something she has kept from him because she knows there is a chance that he’ll go form blaming his father for his brothers death to blaming himself which is the last thing she wants, but with how anger and hurt she is she knows that there is a chance it could help him. “Lee I never blamed your father for Zak’s death, maybe your brothers’ words will help you to not blame him,” Laura says, finding a specific letter in her memory box and as she wipes away tears with one hand she hands Lee, who looks incredibly confused, the letter with the other.

“That’s Zak’s handwriting,” Lee realises, a shocked look on his face.

“I received it shortly before he died,” Laura tells her son, and feeling terrified about what he is going to discover Lee takes the letter from his mother and starts to read.

Dear Mom,

I know I could call but I don’t know there’s something about writing a letter that just feels right. It reminds me of home, of all the books we were surrounded by growing up, all the journals I would watch you write in, and there is something to be said about being able to find a letter and remember an exact time in your life. This is a time I want to remember I want you to know about it.

I have my final flight basic flight test in two days. I’m nervous, but Kara says I’m doing really well (yes, I’m still seeing my flight trainer, please don’t disapprove, I love her mom, she’s so incredibly amazing and I can’t wait for you to meet her, you’re going to love her) and I feel like I can do it. I’m writing because I was flying this morning and I had… I guess you could call it a moment of clarity. I know you were worried that I wanted to fly because I wanted to be like Dad, and even Lee, and maybe you had a point when I started this, but not anymore.

When I was in the cockpit this morning I was flying, and everything was going right, and I realised that I wanted to spend every day like that, not because of Dad or his expectations, not because I wanted to be just like Lee, but because it was what I wanted. Flying feels right, Mom, I know I will never be as good of a pilot as Dad or Lee, but I’m going to work harder than either of them, because it’s what I want to do, I want to be a viper pilot, not for either of them or any exception anyone has when they hear the name Adama, but for me; because it’s what I truly want.

I wanted to let you know that you made the right by not keeping me from signing up, I know you were hesitant, but it’s right for me, Mom. I love this, and I’m happy, I can see who I’m going to be one day, and I know I would never have gotten here if it wasn’t for your unconditional love and support. I love you, give Evie a hug for me, I’ll see you soon.

Love,

Zak

“He wanted to be like me?” Lee asks, amazed, as he knew his brother looked up to him, but he didn’t realise that it was to this level.

“You were his hero Lee, just as much as your father was,” Laura assures her son. “That doesn’t make what happened to him your fault, just like it doesn’t make it your fathers,” Laura explains to her son, wanting him to understand.

“It sounds like he was happy,” Lee says, as he re-reads his brothers words.

“He was,” Laura confirms, tears once again coming to her eyes.

“He really wanted to fly,” Lee says as he stares at the words, tears coming to his eyes.

“He really did,” Laura confirms, putting her arm around Lee and resting her head on Lee’s shoulder as the two of them stare at the both the letters and the pictures form Laura’s treasure box, and drift into pained silence.

#laura roslin #lee adama #spaceparents #fanfiction

[thegeminisage]

okay i have TEN MINUTES to type out my thots about the last two tng eps i watched. day before yesterday was a surprise watch of "the icarus factor" together and last night i did "pen pals"

the icarus factor: i have nnnnever been more angry IN my entire life. riker's dad sucks so bad he sucks SO BAD

that being said the episode was horrifically sloppy. it could have been a must see but it was all over the place and committed so many crimes

firstly, i dont understand the point of offering riker a promotion in this episode when 1. he already canonically turned down a promotion to be here and 2. it didn't tie into his daddy issues in any way whatsoever

also, why did they have his dad DATE THIS DOCTOR LADY? not only is that extremely uncomfortable for everyone involved (can you imaaaagine your parent bringing home a coworker or vice versa seeing a coworker show up at work with your parent) but it ALSO served no function - pulaski didn't tell us anything about riker's dad that he didn't know and we didn't know

it also used up basically all of my goodwill that had been generated re: pulaski. she really is just a knock-off bones and she's actually so boring because of that and even her dating riker's dad and being a chronic divorcee didn't make her interesting. sigh. once again i'm sorry women.

i also don't understand worf's b-plot being about his ten year (although wesley trying to get them both into the dead dad club was HILAAARIOUS and maybe the most i've ever liked wesley so far, i'm allowed to say this since i'm also in the club). i feel like worf's >:( should have been something to do with riker's daddy issues either a disapproval of his parenting or a lack of understanding of why it's bad parenting or SOMETHING bc that needed to be the whole episode and the b plot was just so ??? like it's a b plot i would have enjoyed in a diff ep but not this one

and finally, after ALL of that, after outlining in detail what a shitty person riker's dad is, how he felt the need to compete with his own child who he was also emotionally and physically neglecting so much so that he CHEATED and felt proud for it, how he never put anything before his career, AND

AFTER HE SAID

"IT WASN'T AS HARD FOR YOU BECAUSE YOU WERE IN DIAPERS WHEN SHE DIED"

WHICH MADE ME SO ANGRY I ALMOST BLACKED OUT

the man didn't even apologize. the word "sorry" never left his mouth he just told his shitty sob story and that was it. they yelled some japanese at each other while doign this martial arts thing and will was like glad you came pops and they hugged and that was the end. and also he didn't take the promotion because we knew he wouldn't. girl come ON.

pen pals: the first half of this episode sucked real bad. picard and the horses was awful and i don't think he should be allowed to say the word "allah" on television

wesley getting his own command...eh. it was fine and he hasn't been nearly as annoying in s1 as he was in s2 but i don't care so i was tapping my watch and waiting to get to the ACTUAL episode. it was so tedious to watch everyone argue about his mental wellbeing and future or whatever. who cares. he shouldn't even be here there should not be children aboard starships

i liked the part with data's pen pal BUT i also think he knows better than to violate the prime directive like that. if he slipped and did it once and then confessed that'd be one thing but 8 weeks?? he wouldn't fucking say that

i was also ??? when he beamed her up and didn't leave her in the transport room...idk, i like that he has feelings, and she WAS cute if a little uncanny (the voice filter sounds like the one tumblr used in that one interview lol), but it seems like if you wanted an episode About Data he could have fugured out that third answer of how to both save her and obey the prime directive, instead of getting yelled at and/or ignored by picard and then picard doing it. (man when picard asked for tea first from the replicator while data was trying to get his attention...)

at least pulaski was nice to him i guess :/

tonight, "q who," which will sadly probably have q in it, but at least i get to meet the BORG. at long last...................................

#personal #star trek blogging #tng lb #i'm so excited. i've been looking forward to this for weeks. tng for once PLEASE don't let me down

[zartophski]

@echoing--stars more Rowan content! But focusing on Link. Based on the discussion we had on Discord

----

Link knelt behind the counter, tongs in hand as he carefully slid the doughnuts forward in the case. The woman called her thank yous as she left the shop, box in hand, the bell above the door jingling merrily at the satisfaction of another happy customer. It was a rather slow midday, though Rowan was expecting the evening to pick up as shoppers prepared for the festival taking place in the coming days. Link didn't mind being his second pair of hands on days like this, taking over in the front while he prepped more product in the kitchen. 

The bell dinged again, and Link didn't look up right away, calling "Be with you in a minute!" as he finished his arrangement of the display. He caught sight of the customer's boots, hesitating at the door for just a moment before marching forward with surprising purpose for someone in a bakery. Doughnuts properly arranged, Link pushed himself up, sliding the case shut. "How can I help you?" he asked, finally facing the customer. 

The kid was… probably not there for the pastries. Link blinked in surprise as he took in the kid's appearance, and found it slightly amusing when his surprise was mirrored by the other. Definitely under eighteen, dark scarf pulled up and over the lower half of his face. He was trying to be intimidating, and the knife he was gripping tightly did help with the image. But he was also rather scrawny, and definitely not one who could get his way through physical force alone. It was easy to tell what his goal was, but it was also easy to tell why he'd frozen up. 

Link almost felt bad for the kid. Terrible luck on his part, trying to rob a bakery only to come face-to-face with the Hero of Hyrule. That'd be surreal enough, but the pink apron he wore probably wasn't helping the image. 

"I… uh…"

Link pressed his lips together, trying to decide the best course of action. Technically, at this point, the kid had just walked in with a knife. Technically, it wasn't a robbery, since he certainly didn't seem to be trying to threaten him anymore. So technically, he didn't have to do anything about it.

"Tell you what," Link offered, reaching under the counter slowly. "I've got about half a loaf of cinnamon raisin left. Some more are coming out of the oven in about ten minutes, and no one's going to buy the old one when we've got a fresher product." He wrapped the bread in wax paper, tying it off with some twine before setting it on the counter. The kid eyed it warily, as if he had set a bomb down instead. 

But he was also clearly interested. Scrawny, wearing ill-fitting clothes, way too young to be in the crime business. It wasn't too hard to guess what kind of background the kid came from. But it wasn't his business, and he wasn't going to ask. "On the house," he insisted, nodding to the knife in the kid's hand, "and I never saw that."

He quickly shoved the knife back into the sheath on his belt, and snatched the bread off the counter. He took a step back, glaring at Link as he clutched it to his chest. Link simply nodded at him before grabbing a rag to wipe the crumbs off the counter. "Have a nice day," he said, turning almost all of his attention back to cleaning behind the counter. He could feel the kid staring at him for a few moments, and when Link fully turned his back to him, he bolted out the door, bell clattering noisily.

Rowan poked his head around the kitchen door a few moments later, confusion on his face. "Everything okay out here?" he asked. "That was quite the door slam."

"It's all good," Link waved dismissively. "How's the bread coming along?" 

#zee is keysmashing #linked universe #rowanverse #lu warriors

[whentherewerebicycles]

i am still not really here (1-2 weeks left in my tumblr/fandom break), but i need to just process the big decision i’ve made and then i need a bunch of friends on the internet to tell me that i am doing the right thing so i can fully let go of the decision anguish.

i’m moving to seattle this summer

i don’t have a job yet but i am slowly, painstakingly working on it

my sister, brother, and my brother’s wife live there, as does one of my best college friends, as does la who i am going to make write with me and also teach me about the seattle kraken (or whichever niche pair she is extremely into at the moment).

i’m feeling really unsettled and uncertain about leaving a place i’ve lived ten years and kind of half thought i might live at least another decade if not forever. i feel optimistic and excited every morning and then crushed by fear and doubt by evening. it’s the same rollercoaster every day, but i still feel that sickening drop.

but idk. the political situation in this country and in this state just has me so depressed and exhausted and ground-down these days. the dobbs decision is obviously playing a big part in my decision (i want to try to get pregnant in the next 2-3 years and this isn’t a safe/okay place to do it anymore) but i feel like uvalde was really the turning point, just the moment of total clarity where i was like: i think i need to get out of here. gun violence is terrible everywhere in this country but at least i don’t have to live in a state that worships guns. this is a bad place to be politically and climate stuff is just going to get worse.

austin feels so different than it did when i moved here. i’ve only been here ten years and i know i was part of the wave that changed it but it just feels.. i don’t know. it feels too big and too tech-y now and i just... i don’t really love it here anymore. i know that’s all true of seattle too but at least it’ll be a place where it was always that way for me, rather than a place where the culture and demographics of the town changed around me. idk. i love my people here and i loved my time here - my grad cohort is the best, best, best. but i feel like a lot of things are weakening my ties to austin and to texas and i think that means it’s time to go.

i really want to be closer to my family

i want to live in a naturally beautiful place

i want to live in a blue state

god i want to live in a blue state

i just really want to live in a blue state

i feel shitty leaving the south when i think the south needs sane people who give a shit about other human beings. i feel shitty leaving texas when i love the kids i get to work with so much and when i’ve spent so long thinking about how important it is not to abandon the state to these horrible people. but man i can’t live here. can’t raise a family here. i was emailing this week with my boss, whom i love and whose opinion i respect a lot. i was voicing some of these conflicted feelings, wondering if i was cutting and running instead of digging in. and she wrote back three minutes later: “fuck the south is my current mode. we must create our own sustainable communities and cultural worlds.” 

i have a feeling ‘fuck america’ may be my own future mode so i would kinda like to live near canada for a bit and have the chance to scope it out, yknow. see if it’s a place i could take up permanent residence one day. idk man. we are living in end times aren’t we? sorry i meant this to actually be a post about pros and cons of moving and instead i guess i am just spiraling a bit about politics. that’s just being a person in america these days.  

i’m going to miss my familiar places here. my places and my people and my routines and all the little things that have made this home for ten years. but it’s time to go.

it’s time to go. it’s time to go

it’s okay. it’s time to go.

[barbiewritesstuff]

I THINK IM A GENIUS WITH THIS OMG. okay so it’s a rooster x reader story based on the song Travelin’ Soldier by The Chicks. He meets her at a bar and what not. I’m giving you lists of creative ability with this one so I hope this makes sense and i love your work :))))) #stayswaggy

-- Thank you for your request! I really loved writing this :)

Also I just realised you said they meet at a bar, I hope you don't mind that that is not the case.

Tw. Implied smut a little nsfw? I think? Also tw for mc death --

He'd heard the others call it The Suicide Mission. He had laughed with them when they had joked about volunteering. And then he'd been picked. What's worse is, he'd been picked as acting captain. So, Rooster realised, if anything went wrong he'd either have to tell the team's families or sacrifice himself instead. 

He'd had to tell families before and honestly, he was good at it. He was good at picking the right words, telling the right lies. He was good at looking them in the eyes and reassuring them with lying promises that their loved ones hadn't been in pain. They were always in pain.

The good thing was that if he died, they wouldn't have to tell any of his family members. There was no one left to mourn him. He suspected that's why he volunteered to tell families, just to soak up what it was like to have people who cared. There was Maverick, Rooster guessed he would cry and mourn but after their argument and what they had said, he wasn't so sure.

Rooster was getting picked up at 11am but he had arrived early. He wanted to grab one last decent breakfast before being served cantine food for possibly the rest of his very short life. The diner was empty. The waitresses were bored but he had barely sat down before he lost himself in thoughts again.

"What can I get you?" 

He ordered eggs and bacon, and the strongest coffee they could make him. 

She was cute. Long black shiny hair in a braid, caramel eyes and an attractive smile. When she turned around to pass on the order, he noticed a purple bow keeping her hair together.

He sighed.

There were so few people that his breakfast arrived ten minutes later. The cute waitress brought it to him.

"Do you mind sitting with me while I eat?"

She took the seat in front of him, and he took a sip of his coffee. It made a shiver go down his spine.

"You're military?" She asked, nodding towards his uniform.

"Navy pilot"

"Going home?"

"No, they're sending me away. Right off of the coast of Russia. You know, somewhere peaceful. Somewhere nice. They figured I needed a holiday" He replied

"I detect a hint of sarcasm"

"Absolutely not, it's my dream destination. I look forward to eating Borscht for every meal." He said, a sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. She laughed.

"When are they picking you up?"

"In three hours. I'm early"

"I'm almost done here. If you wait for me we can go for a walk" 

Rooster could think of only one thing he would like to do less but he accepted anyway. She seemed nice.

Her name was Jade. 

He waited for her by the entrance once he saw her leave towards the staff only area, and she arrived to meet him in her regular clothes. She was wearing jeans and a white tank top. She took him to her car and drove them down some back roads towards a lake. 

Even faced with a possible future demise, Rooster had to admit it was gorgeous. The beautiful navy coloured water hidden among the trees felt like the perfect cover for what they were doing. 

He had expected Jade to be making the first move but he surprised himself by kissing her as soon as they had found a spot to sit. He held her head by the back of her head careful not to mess up her hair while her tongue battled his for dominance. She had climbed on his lap at some point Rooster couldn't pinpoint, and she was grinding on him through her clothes. Hungry and desperate for more, he removed his hand from her hair and helped her take off her shirt. She removed his next, tracing his chest once it was off. They spent his last few hours committing each other's bodies to memory. Rooster tried to remember every curve, dip and bump of your body. Too soon for either of them, it was time to go. 

"I didn't even ask if you had a boyfriend. I probably should have done that first" Rooster said, putting his underwear back on.

"Probably, but I don't. I'm all alone" Jade replied

That makes two of us, he thought

"Can I write to you? I don't really have anybody either and I don't want to die alone"

She so desperately wanted to say that he wouldn't but the certainty in his face kept her quiet. 

"Email?"

He nodded, she held out her hand for his phone and typed both her number and her email into his contacts.

He sent the first five emails from Top Gun in San Diego where he trained, and then his mission was moved forward and they started coming from all over the place.

Rooster had no idea what to write at first, but by email two he had all but forgotten that he'd met Jade three days before. The words flew out onto his screen like he had been put on earth solely to type them. He told her about his dad, his mom and Maverick. He told her about their fight. About the grieving families he had encountered. He told her about going to sleep with the memory of her etched into his brain. About the mission he wasn't supposed to be talking about. 

He poured out his heart to her. By the end, she knew everything about him. His dreams, his fears, his loves and hates. 

By the end… because there was an end. Bradley Bradshaw had realised that it ended -- he ended -- ten seconds before it did. Rookie, his wingman was being shot at and he needed to do something about it. He didn't think. He didn't cry, he didn't scream, he just ended. 

Michael, her brother, was playing the outside linebacker position for his school's football team. It was due to start soon. Her parents prayed his team would win, they stood for the anthem and then a man stood up to speak to the crowd. He leaned too close to the microphone, it rang through the air like a violinist playing a bad chord. They all winced.

"If I may have your attention please" The crowd quietened "I would like to ask for a minute of silence for one of our school alumni, who was sadly killed in action in the service of the nation earlier this week."

On the screens around the field a picture appeared. Rooster looked back at her in his uniform, a blank expression on her face. She felt tears well up in her eyes, soon her vision turned blurry and she lost herself to sobs.

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