#because of the sheer amount of asks i get like “why is this character naked??”

[wolfythewitch]

Just a heads up. I know a lot of my audience came from mcyt so it skews a bit younger but I will be drawing very varied content that may or may not end up suggestive! I won't draw like anyone fucking or anything but like. Ya know. You may see an ass every now and then idk

I like drawing tasteful nudity it's fun and you gotta keep in mind that the body isn't inherently sexual. I will tag if it's got like outright genitalia (though I doubt I'd be drawing any of that lol)

#yup #this isnt any different than most of what i post i just wanted to put that out there #because of the sheer amount of asks i get like “why is this character naked??” #idk man clothes weren't invented yet in the garden of eden

[crossdressingdeath]

Tahel Surana, all multiples of five?

Ooh, a big one. From this ask game, feel free to send more!

5. On an average day, what can be found in your character's pockets? Not a huge amount, actually. Some cash. A couple potions if the pockets of whatever he's wearing are big enough. He's not one for carrying a bunch of stuff, so he sticks to things that are useful in an emergency.

10. Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing? More, definitely more. Tahel spent most of his formative years in mage robes, which are... pretty concealing. After that he feels kind of naked without his whole body covered up, and between that and the fun little thing about the Templars watching the apprentices bathe that we hear about in the mage origin he really doesn't like feeling observed when he's less than completely covered. His outfits feature a lot of long sleeves, high collars and tall boots. If he willingly lets someone see more of his body than his head and hands he's showing a huge amount of trust. Unfortunately since most of them don't have Circle-related hangups most of his friends don't realize just how much trust he's putting in them... Also because of all the ice magic he can wear a lot of layers without overheating! He could go out into the Western Approach at high noon wearing clothes suited for Ferelden winters and not overheat at all. So he faces no downsides from his insistence on completely covering himself up, which is convenient.

15. Is your character preoccupied with money or material possession? Why or why not? Not really? They've never really been a thing for him. He went from the Circle (no possessions allowed) to being on the run (can only have what he can carry) to being the Warden-Commander and Arl of Amaranthine (stinking rich). He does have a thing about books, though. The Vigil's library is massive just because of him and will likely go down in history as one of the finest book collections in Thedas. He started with fiction (which I feel like Circle mages probably weren't allowed) out of spite, but when the spite ran out he also started collecting a bunch of history books, magical theory stuff, economics, engineering... Tahel's a bit of a nerd! He likes reading books! And now he's allowed to have books! So he's gonna have all the books! Plus he now has... so many responsibilities involving things he's never had to do before and he's gotta learn about those. The fact that the Warden canonically becomes a scholar of the Blight is so pleasing to me, you have no idea.

20. In what ways does your character compare themselves to others? Do they do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism? Tahel mostly compares himself to others in terms of social skills. He feels no need to compare himself to others in terms of combat or magic skills, he knows he's one of the best in terms of sheer innate talent and is only going up from there and any sort of comparison in those fields would just lead to arrogance (which is a Bad Emotion and so much be ruthlessly suppressed), but... let's just say there's a reason his only friend was Jowan growing up. He's good at lying to people and winning them over in the short term, but in terms of long-term relationships he's a mess. Which is... very bad when you spend all your time around the same people. He managed in the Circle because he knew all his fellow apprentices well enough to have a pretty good idea of how to manage them, not because he has any people skills. He's well aware that a lot of the people he knows are a lot more experienced with people than he is and are a lot better at getting people to like them than he is and he's determined to learn from them. The undying love and devotion he wins from his companions in both DAO and Awakening comes from a combination of his companions having to learn to read him due to the forced proximity and need to get along well enough to fight together (meaning they know him well enough to at least mostly understand what he means when he fails at People) and his companions also being really fucking weird.

25. How quick is your character to suspect someone else? Does this change if they are close with that person? Tahel doesn't trust people at all. His default state is distrust and suspicion, because in the Circle you cannot trust anyone. The Templars obviously can't be trusted, but even the other mages could very easily throw you under the bus if it becomes necessary. Tahel would never begrudge his fellow mages doing whatever was necessary to survive (hell, he'd do the same to them if he had to), but trust wouldn't be wise. The only people he trusted were Jowan and Irving, and... neither of those exactly ended well for him. Meanwhile one of his major flaws is that if he likes someone he is... infinitely too trusting (for example he actually believed Jowan when he insisted he wasn't a blood mage). Everyone he trusted in the Circle failing to live up to that trust wasn't enough to break him of that flaw, and it is not helped by even the most apparently untrustworthy of his companions ultimately proving worthy of his faith in them. People are always shocked to learn that the ice cold Hero of Ferelden is so naive about people he likes (although it does help that he's so slow to actually like people).

30. What does your character find repulsive or disgusting? Templars. More generally, people who abuse their authority. Also spiders! Tahel is genuinely really, really freaked out by spiders and is a little bit insecure about that.

35. How does your character behave around people they like? Tahel is a bit like a cat, in that if he is willingly spending time in the same area as you that means he likes you. Also he'll never outright ask anyone for physical affection, but he will hang out very close to people without quite touching them and be Very Pleased if they initiate contact. But mostly it's just... if he's willingly spending time around you, he likes you.

40. How does your character treat people in service jobs? Politely, but distantly. He's never unkind and only impatient when the situation is serious enough to warrant it, but he's a bit weirdly intense basically always so some people would get a weird vibe off him.

45. What does your character believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them? ...Hm. That's a tricky one. I think Tahel starts out vaguely Andrastian, but a little disgusted at himself for it? He's Andrastian in the way someone raised in a religion and never allowed to see anything outside of that religion is religious. And it makes him miserable, what with the whole "Magic is a sin" thing. No going to the Maker's side for him! But I think he eventually settles on the belief that the Maker (if he exists, which Tahel's very much questioning by the end of DAO and never really settles on an answer for) won't care about his magic and will judge him entirely on his actions and intentions, and frankly if he doesn't Tahel doesn't want to be at his side anyway. And there's also an element of him thinking that he's likely to end up in the Fade in some way, and he's okay with wandering the Fade for eternity and seeing and learning things about both worlds forever, seeing as as previously established he is a scholar and a bit of a nerd. To put it another way he's not really scared of the concept of his own death and what comes next, but it's more of a "To die would be an awfully big adventure" thing than any sort of certainty.

#dragon age origins #tahel surana #asks #thornfield13713 #long post #send more pls! #ask games

[lilsuzn]

MLQC Lucien - NSFW abc headcanons

Sorry I was gone for so long. I was busy doing hot girl shit.

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen's Choice

Warnings: S.M.U.T.  (the reader is gender neutral, but I quote Lucien’s “silly girl” at one point so idk)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

It’s probably because of this relationship you two have. One that Lucien thought he could never have.

Frankly, he didn’t really want one. Even with you.

But it was impossible to stop himself from jumping into that rabbit whole.

You are not even a human for him. You are far superior.

A goddess.

A greater being that must be worshiped. Cherished. LOVED THOROUGHLY and Lucien can't stop himself from doing all that.

He would help you clean up with so much care. Hold you like he’s about to lose you. Wisper praises and declarations of love into your ear.

Prefers to stay in bed, but wouldn’t mind to do it in a bath either.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He never really gave it much thought, but if you’d ask him, he would probably say - his neck.

Because he noticed how much attention you give it. That given a choice you would always kiss and bite on the neck.

And the unreformable tease he is - he loves your ears.

The way you twitch and squirm when he licks the or softly blows around them. The way you flush when he leans in to whisper directly to it.

All those small reactions get his blood pumping.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

A big fan of cuming onto you.

Your ass is his staple favorite, but chest, stomach, back or… basically anywhere else is not bad at all either.

If he ever comes inside you without a condom… and gets to see his seed dripping out of you… IT’S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL CHANGE OF PERSPECTIVE FOR HIM.

Nothing can beat the look of his seed spilled on your pretty butt, BUT… damn that’s a nice sight.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He doesn’t believe that some deeds can be dirty or naughty.

He's a scientist. Explorer of human's brain. He knows that every single of those is a normal, human thing.

But given that we all know what is this question all about…

Lucien really liked to draw when he was a kid and he still does it from time to time.

And what else could he sketch in his free time if not the most beautiful creation of this world? You. Naked.

He has countless amounts of those at this point. Every part of you has a separate piece. He likes to go through them from time to time.

Meaning every day when you're not around.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Lucien is not a virgin but he had never been in a real relationship before you.

He had some one night stands. A few booty call relationships, but he had never been with someone the way he is with you.

So you were still a challenge, because he could not allow himself any shortcomings when it came to you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

That’s a spoiler for the future, but Lucien is more than willing to try everything and he doesn’t really feel any special bond with a particular position.

However he does have a particular group and if you remember what I said in C above, you know where I’m going.

From behind. Seeing your butt shake. He’s an ass man. (would love to try anal if you’d show an intrest in that)

Major bonus points if you turn your head to the side and look at him. With your lovely, beautiful face that he loves oh so much.

He instantly speeds up to the point that no man should ever reach and will happily carry you around for a day or two - you’ll need it.

Because after that there could never be only one round. Or even two or three.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I wouldn’t call it goofy.

It’s very intense. Almost in a spiritual sense.

For Lucien sex is a metter of high importance. There’s no room for fooling around.

He needs to focus, so afterwards you’re completely spent, blissed and fucked to the point where you could never enjoy sex with any other man.

Toxic trait of this cutesy otome boy - possessiveness, and although he won’t try to control what and with who you do... 

(the man has some dignity and respect for your autonomy)

He will make sure you won’t be able to forget who makes you feel so f*in' good and being ‘goofy’ won’t make the statement.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I think Lucien would be somewhat groomed, but not bold.

Shaving just isn’t natural and therefore necessarily good for one’s body.

Therefore, if you shave he might try to convince you to stop.

I want to touch a woman, not a girl - he would say.

Carpet matches the drapes (however I like to think that Lucien has ginger pubes dontjudgeme)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Said first in A, now will be more specific.

With Lucien sex is some kind of a ritual of worship.

It’s a sacrifice for his goddess. His energy, his time, his most attentive care.

Love beams from his eyes even stronger than light does from the sun.

The foreplay will be elongated. You need to come at least twice before he enters you (see T).

During he roams your body with his hands. Boldly, but not aggressively… unless you’d like it.

Afterwards… well, just read A again.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s a very busy man, so he doesn’t get many chances, but…

When he can he’s right at it… thinking of that pretty ass of yours.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lucien is quite kinky.

He's in for anything that doesn’t go under N conditions. Anything. 

Likes bondage. No. He loves it. On you. And blindfolds.

SPANKING.

DOM BOY, but wouldn’t mind to go sub from time to time for you.

You want you to submit thoroughly, so he can thoroughly please you. Give you all that can be given.

Lives for roleplaying.

He also is really into body worship. He will praise you to the point of incredibility. 

See T gir. It’s really an intense game.

Lives to hear you beg for him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He likes to be in a private, comfortable place, when he doesn’t have to worry about any interruptions or other inconveniences.

Best in your or his place.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

First of all he really needs no convincing.

BUT.

The beast is awake momentarily when you wear his clothes. Like his sweater when you're cold. Or a shirt after a passionate night.

"You make a very nice sight indeed."

Other thing is lingerie. He likes it dark and erotic. Satin and straps. Maybe some nice, sheer mesh.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No humiliating one another.

Nothing that even comes close to making you feel like he might have attempted to disrespect you.

Also - no outsiders.

And no hiding one another's fantasies. He’s there to please and satisfy you. Don’t take it away from him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Eghem.

Can you stay up all night

Fuck me till the daylight 

34+35

If you don't get it yet, it means he wants to 69 with you.

All night. Every night.

The taste of you in his mouth is heavenly.

The feeling and sight of your mouth enveloping his groin is pure ecstasy.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He doesn’t have much of a fav.

It all depends on his mood.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Meh...

It’s not like an unacceptable option, but he prefers delayed gratification.

Will agree if you insist, but won’t ever offer.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

OF COURSE. YES. PLEASE.

Why would he ever limit himself to known and obvious, when there might be something far, far superior to what both of you already know.

He enjoys erotic literature. Sometimes reads online articles about interesting positions, toys or new ways to make you come harder and faster.

Won’t shy away from many things. Just remember about what I said in N.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This man rarely sleeps. Rarely even rests.

This man is a rabbit.

It's more likely you will pass out of exhaustion then that he will take a break from fucking you. Weather it's with his hands, dick, lips or… other things. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Speaking of other things.

And fucking.

Lucien invested in a nice collection for the two of you. Vibrators. Rings. Suckers.

He likes to please you in every way he can. 

While the toys take care of you, you suck onto him.

Sometimes you just embrace yourself as the toys take care of your needs. And you go like this for hours. Until you can't take it anymore.

And let's not forget the bondage equipment. Ropes, handcuffs, blindfolds, gags, whips….

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Obvi. What did you expect?

A lot.

For hours.

Until all you’re able to say is “Lucien” and “Please”.

Edging is not negotiable. Happens every time. Often to the point when you come so fast and unexpectedly he just couldn’t stop on time.

Will talk dirty to your ear in public to then “accidently” stroke your nipple or if he feels particularly bold that day - your crotch.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not shy at all. No shame.

Will moan, groan, pant and hiss all he wants and as loudly as he wants.

Let the neighbors hear. Why would he feel ashamed of fucking you?

LOVES when you do the same.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He would love to take you for a weekend trip. In the mountains. Renting a nice cottage.

Necessarily with a fireplace. And a jacuzzi.

He would have it decorated with many, many gleaming candles. Set all around the cottage.

The soothing music would play.

His fingers would play with your sex while you soak yourselfs in the jacuzzi.

Then he would lay you on a soft carpet in front of the fireplace and make love to you. True, unmistakable love.

It would be a trip to remember for the rest of your lives.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

First off all, see this meme.

He just emanuates that massive dick energy. That’s just facts. No one in the bunch can relate. I’m sorry stans of the other 4, it’s not my fault, don’t @ me.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High. Very high sometimes.

Okay - usually very high, sometimes extremely high.

All nighters will happen at least once a week unless one of you really has a tough week or just had one and still tries to get everything together.

Otherwise no mercy. His lover needs to have all her needs fulfilled. Lucien would never allow you to walk around hungry or cold. Why would he let you be unsatisfied in this category, silly girl?

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not right away for sure. 

He wants to watch you fall asleep. And then see those cutest expressions you make in your slumber.

Sometimes he just grabs a book and holds your hand until you wake up.

Other times he isn't able to resist it and falls asleep. You in his arms. His world at peace.

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #mlqc fanfic #mlqc hc #mlqc headcanon #mlqc lucien #mlqc smut

[fakeloveaskblog]

Patty have you ever asked Janus to join for dinner when you meet him? Maybe that can somehow help Logan with his flirting? Or at least get Janus more relaxed?

(btw you're adorable ily!!)

(*cracks knuckles* Oh yeah baby we’ve gotten to the angst. Words: 2364 )

Patty: ": D Oh hello lil magical bird who just talked to me! I love you too!! I didn't want to barge in too much into their relationship but now when my honeypie has asked him out once already I guess I can help just a bit!"

Patty had sunglasses on to look like a secret agent. This was an important step in her plan, she swore on it. She sneaked into the open library while chuckling to herself.

She glanced around and almost immediately caught her eye on Janus standing in the reception. She did a few sneaky walks between the bookshelves before sliding up to him.

"Hello Janister!" She greeted with a bright smile while putting her elbows on the reception to lean closer.

"Hiya PatPat. Logan is off helping a customer but he'll be back soon"

"Oh silly I'm not looking for him right now. I am actually here to ask if you could come over to our place tonight. You see I'm planning on making Jambalaya but I always make too much! I'm talking leftovers up to the roof!! But if a third person was there maybe I would be able to make a perfect amount" She lied. She was making jambalaya for Janus purposes alone!

Janus' heartrate shot through the atmosphere "To- me?- your place?- tonight?- I uh- I don't know if I have time-"

She pouted and did her puppy eyes "You sure? You don't have to if you don't want to!! But it would be nice!"

He let out a happy sigh "Sure"

She took his hand and let out a sqeaul "aaah Great! It'll be so fun!!"

---

Logan was leaning down so Patty could help him with his bowtie. "Are you completely sure I look adequate?" He asked.

"Oh honeybee, You look super duper ultra adequate. You're literally wearing a sweater with a math pun on it!!"

"Hmm sound argument. I can not deny the sexiness of math puns"

A knock came on the door. The couple stared at each other. Logan stimmed out of nervousness. Patty gave him a quick kiss before pointing between him and the door. They did a good luck high five.

Logan combed his hair back and leaned on the wall to look cool as he opened the door. Janus stood on the other side looking like a sardine that had just been pressed into a can.

He had on a purple vest with embroidered flowers details and with a long sleeved black button up under. Also a very funky pair of stripped pants with even funkier yellow snake socks under.

"Greetings Jan. You are looking" Like a dream. Like someone he wanted to kiss right this moment. "Very good"

"Aww are you trying to be a snake charmer Log-boy" Janus replied with a smirk.

"I am not a log or a boy. I'm an adult man made out of meat"

"You better be because I'm starving" He had downed 2 shots of vodka before coming to try to and cool his extreme anxiety. He was a lightweight.

Logan lead him into the living room "Are....Are you implying cannibalism?"

Janus shrugged while smiling.

The apartement truly did look like a mismatch of the couple's personalities. The walls were filled with maps of constellations and uplifting cat posters. On the bookshelfs cook books and travel books were stacked next to thick philosophy books and essays. The decorations were either cute porcelain animals, magical anime girl figurines or figurines of characters from Lo's different hyperfixations. The sofa was filled with fluffy blankets and pillows and stuffies were scattered around the light blue carpet filling the living room.

“Do you want to watch star trek while eating?” Logan asked with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“As long as I get to watch your beautiful face as well” Janus flirted back while doing an unsteady fingergun.

“Oh- Of course” His crush’s sudden forwardness was making his heart flutter.

Janus curled up in the corner of the couch, making himself as small as possible. Logan sat down pretty far away from him.

He started the first episode. Janus had a constant smile on his face as he listened to Logan go between telling him facts and gushing over his favorite moments. All while he could hear Patty in the kitchen half singing along to dad rock.

“Does she want help with that?” Janus, known gentleman and also nervous wreck, asked.

“She’ll tell us if she need it. She likes cooking. I like baking. It usually works out”

Janus got an amused look on his face “You’re into baking? So all those times at work when you brought desserts, that was your making?”

“Yes. And they were delicious. Anything wrong with that?”

“No. No. I simply didn’t take you for the type”

“Well cooking involves creativity and there’s room for your own ideas. Baking doesn’t. It is only about following a structure and doing kitchen chemistry. Of course I love it” He lowered his voice “It is also tremendously good for when you need to flirt without words”

“Oh really? I better start looking up recipes then” He pulled in Logan's bowtie “You have any favorites?” 

In his head he had the guts to say ‘Your lips against mine would be my favorite’ in reality he said “HehuHFKdjf jam drops in the shape of heart. The heart part is important. It adds to the taste”

“It usually does”

Janus slowly looked him up and down. And then he realized what the fuck he was doing. He shot back into his corner of the sofa like a naked rat. Logan sat still with blushing cheeks, staring at the tv but not taking in anything that was happening except his racing heart.

“Done!” Patty exclaimed, coming in with a big ass fucking pot of jambalaya and a just as big bottle of wine.

She saw the nervous state both of the guys were in and quickly made up a plan. She slammed the pot down onto the coffee table and moved the blankets so they took up about half of the couch. Then she sat down using up as much space as possible leaving the guys no choice but to move closer to each other, If both of them sat their hands down they would touch.

Patty cuddled up to her husband with a proud smile on her face. Logan moved his arm around her. 

“It looks great sweetheart” He pressed a kiss to her cheek making her giggle.

“So do you!! And so does mr. star trek captain man!”

 She enjoyed the hell out of her jambalaya while the two idiots sent each other awkward smiles. Janus downed his glass of wine in record speed. (He took it slower with the food, he didn’t want to seem disgusting). 

The whole star trek episode went by. Logan asked Janus a thousand excited questions about how much he liked it. All of his answers made the nerd happy stim. They put on a documentary none of them were really interested in the background while continuing to chat. Patty went on a long epic story about how a kid at her daycare had tried to bite her finger off last week.

“Soooo” Patty sudenly changed the topic. She said it with an innocent tone “My nerdy lil honeypie over here had the biggest crush on Data for a while. It was adorable. ANd while we’re on the topic” The look she gave Janus was happy but it still sent shivers down his spine “You having any crushes lately? Just curious!”

Both of the men internally gasped at the audacity. The gall! The sheer power!! Janus was sweating like a naked rat who had just been clad for the first time.

“...Well.......I have actually been meaning to....Ask about the polyamourous thing?” 

The couple exhanged knowing glances before looking back at him “Mhm yeah Mhm” “I am poly and also a thing so I am an expert in this”

“So...I totally haven’t fallen in love with 3 people. 2 of which I met in the span of around a week”

Patton did a double thumbs up. Logan took a long sip from his wine. “We’re all gossipy bitches here. Tell all about it”

“Well. The first one is Remy-”

“The one with the sunglasses?”

“...Yes...Are....Don’t tell me they’re a serial killer”

Patty broke up into a chuckle “Logie-bogie tried to kiss them while he was drunk once”

“I threw up on their shoes”

“He threw up on their shoes!”

Logan saw the terror in Janus’ face as he worried that maybe 2 of his crushes were exes and quickly added “We are only acquaintance and I was momentarily struck by the impressive lenght of their legs” 

Janus went on to gush about Remy and Remus. Why he loved them. All the dates he had daydreamed about. And then finally his voice was shaking when he mentioned just having a third crush.

Patty let out a long yawn before he could say anything more. She stood up “Well looks like it’s time to snooze! I assume 2 big burly ultra masculine men like you two can handle the dishes”

“It will be a challenge but we shall do our best. Goodnight honey” Logan kissed her.

She leaned in and whispered “Good luck Logie-bear! You got this”

She giggled mischievously while going off into the bedroom. She closed the door behind her. Only the two lovebirds were left now.

“So the third crush? Who’s the lucky gentleman?” Logan asked.

Janus held onto his newly refilled wine glass so hard it nearly cracked. He forced a smile “Wouldn’t you want to hear about the fake couples counseling I go to together with Remus instead?”

“Fake what now?”

“Well me and Remus, who I am hopelessly in love with even though he clearly doesn’t feel the same way, started going to a therapist pretending we were a couple to see how long it would take before he realized we didn’t know each other. He hasn’t realized anything yet. It’s great!”

It looked like Logan’s eyes was about to bulge out of his skull “That sounds illegal. It should be. You are dragging shame onto the face of psychology you double dumbass!”

“I have done nothing wrong ever in my entire life and frankly I deserve to waste even more therapist’s time” Janus replied.

He let out a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose “Which therapist is it that you’re harassing exactly?”

“Dr. Picani”

Logan’s eyes widened and he shut his lips tightly “Emile Picani?”

“Yes.....Please don’t tell me he’s a serial killer”

He slowly looked away while taking a sip from his wine “I have had intercourse with that man”

Janus choked on his drink. He coughed while staring at his friend with wild eyes “YOU FUCKED MY THERAPIST????”

“No.......He fucked me” Logan replied in a quiet tone. “Besides he’s not even your real therapist”

“He is still a sort of therapist man to me! I told him I enjoy Lana Del Rey. That was a very intimate moment for me!”

“Well I had a very intimate moment with him too”

Janus looked at him with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. He let out a chuckle which turned into a laugh which turned into Logan not being able to not laugh along which turned into the room filling with nothing but flustered happiness and laughter.

Logan grabbed onto his crush’ arm just to have some contact with him while his eyes teared up from laughter. Janus leaned his head against his shoulder and curled up close to him while giggling so much his stomach hurt.

“Oh we’re idiots” Janus sighed.

“We are. We truly are”

They stayed sitting like that. So so close. Logan’s arm around him. Janus breathing being felt against the other man’s skin. Their hands touching. Only comfortable silence surrounded them.

A few minutes went by. Janus looked at him shuly. His thoughts worrying about everything and anything “Should we- ehm- the dishes?”

The moment broke. Logan moved away before standing up “I uh yeah- we should”

It was strange. Just dishing together with his crush made Logan happy. All he could think about was getting to be this close, this domestic, with him every day. Getting to wake up next to him. Kiss his knuckles. Share a morning with him.

“Who was the third crush by the way?” Logan asked, glancing over at his crush.

Janus stared down into the water “I- I can’t say it”

“Understandable”

He stopped and turned fully to look at Janus. He had never been more unsure of where to put his hands before.

“Well I can...Say it I mean....I....I...Janus.....You make me happy just by being near me...You are so wonderful...I....I love you”

Logan couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He took a step forward and cupped Janus’ cheeks. He leaned forward, so close, so close that their noses and foreheads were pressed against each other. It felt like had been starving for this.

Janus froze. His wide eyes stared in shock at the other man. His hand moved up to his chest on instinct, to try and push him away.

Logan noticed his reaction. Of course he did. It was blindingly obvious. He forced himself to move away. He forced the desire to kiss him to simmer out.

“I-I’m sorry-” He mumbled out.

“No....Lo..” Janus took his hand. Holding it so so lightly in his own “I know” He looked up at him “I know. I’m sorry. I should go”

A horrible feeling of guilt filled Logan’s throat “You don’t have to” 

“I should go” He repeated, letting go of his hand.

Logan walked after him as he went to get his jacket “A date. Do you want to go on a date? Not just a hangout. Janus I- I want so badly to be close to you. We could go to the zoo, look at the snakes?”

Janus held his hand on the handle of the door. He didn’t look at Logan “Thanks for having me over”

He left. Logan stood alone in the hallway. His arms hanging helplessly at his sides.

#(: #loceit #mini fic #logicality #logan sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides #patton sanders

[codegemini]

Rinse, Repeat - Part I

 (( Co-written with @sylaess / @sylaesschasewind . Tagging @argonas / @thefugitivemango​  for character mention))

 ~*~*~

The trees swayed gently in the breeze. She smelled moonflowers faintly, and looked around. This again. This grove. So familiar, it was going to drive her mad! She had to know.  But she didn’t. The void in her memory was a gaping wound she couldn’t get past. 

 Sylaess sighed softly, placing her face in her hands gently. There was no scar pitting the left side of her jaw, no exposed tissue. It was oddly gratifying. But it sealed the knowledge that she was not awake. Most likely. Torghast was a very difficult place to traverse when not plagued with traumas. Her grip on reality was fragile at best.

 “Va’shal dan duentha.”  “...I don’t understand you. Why don’t I understand you?” She fixed the other elf with a stare, trying to puzzle him out but only ending up with a headache. She knew that voice, it brought her comfort. Sadness. Longing.  ~*~*~ A sharp, ragged breath drawn in and the sword slammed into the ground beside her head, narrowly missing.  Oh, shit!  Teeth bared in a voiceless snarl of effort, Sylaess brought her feet up and kicked hard at the empty husk of armor. Saronite screeched across the floor as she slid away a little, clattering back to her feet. The intense throbbing in her skull cinched tighter, trying to force her eyes shut.  Breathe. Walk through it.  The brittle calm settled over her, a ragged safety blanket as she fell back into the warrior mindset. It was getting nearly impossible to draw upon. Half clenched fist, runes flared along her body. An enormous spike of ice crashed up from the floor beneath the guard, impaling the hollow armor and immobilizing it.  The rush of magic fled and she wilted, head falling back a bit.  Get your shit together, girl! Find her, get the hell out. You know the drill. 

 The elf scrabbled up her dropped swords, hunting around for one that had been kicked away. Brought herself into a slow jog up the corridor. She’d made it this far. Again.

 The cages hung over the expanse. Were they floating? Chains were taught from the bottom of each descended into unknown depths, but ups and downs were questionable at best. It was not helpful. But she saw her. The ghastly form of Sinafay.  Sheathed her swords and made one giant leap from the edge of the stairs, teetering the cage over the ominous expanse. “--Ugh--” The impact was as graceful as a rotten fruit being hurled. Syl looped an arm through the bars. “Let’s... Let’s try this again.” Her voice was ragged and worn out. A gravelly toneless thing. The elf started fiddling with the lock. “Unless you have a better idea.”

Sinafay gasped, eyes wide as she leaned back against the far side bars of the cage, both to keep herself from falling over as it swung and to be as far away from this image of Sylaess as she could.

 “WHY do you keep coming back?! Leave me alone!” She growled, “I -know- what this place is! I -know- you are not really her!”

 The lock finally came free. Sylaess let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding, sagging against the cage, her elbow hooked through the only real support she had. “Seriously, the amount of times I’ve had my ass kicked here? The Jailer picks better people to represent him, I assure you.” The elf grimaced, maneuvering herself to the side so she could kick the door open. Hastily healed slashes, unattended gouges and a myriad of other mostly superficial damage that she just didn’t have the energy to mend up again gave her a very... earthy look. Much like a worn out rag.

 “If you’re going to torture me, just get it over w—“

Sinafay cut herself off, however, as she felt something different about the Kal’dorei. It wasn’t her, per say, but more of what followed her. Spirits… lost spirits. They clung to her… Sinafay frowned, confused. Spirits wouldn’t cling to the jailor’s forces. If anything, they would be repelled… cowering.

 “Why do the lost follow you?” She asked, curiosity overcoming her panicked state.

  “...They think I’m a good option to get them out of here, but personally, I’ve now got fresh doubts up to my fucking ears. I come back for you because I promised Argonas I’d keep you safe.” Syl shut her eyes a moment. “I failed him.” And he’ll have every damn right to be disappointed, but let’s survive this first. 

Those black eyes seemed to stare off into the expanse of cloudy nothingness a moment, she shook her head. “I’ve got to try to get you out. I...”  Sylaess grimaced again, letting the words just fail. Steeled herself up for the next exertion. Leapt, caught the edge with her chest and her legs swung beneath the platform. Vivid swearing strained as she scrabbled her purchase of the edge, plated hands slipping. Saronite screeching on stone. It all made to ramp up her headache that much more. “Fuck sakes!” 

 A wisp flew wildly about her head. “Would you piss off!” Hanging on by sheer will and gumption, she snarled.  “This is the worst joke I’ve ever been the ass of. Almost.” Wheezed the words, resting her face on the cold stone of the platform, once she had enough grip not to be in perilous threat of falling. “Or at the very least, the worst drug trip I’ve ever been on.” She still dangled over the edge precariously. Hooked a foot finally.

Sinafay’s tail twitched and flickered erratically behind her as she didn’t move from her side of the cage. She kept her suspicious gaze on the struggling elf, internally debating on the validity of her words. She wanted to believe this was really her friend, but how could she be certain.

 “If you are the real Sylaess, then why do you not remember the very event that brought us together as friends? Do you remember Sigil? Draenor? Tanaan? Do you know anything about me other than the fact that I am Argonas’ mate? Why are your eyes like that? What is wrong with you?!”

Sylaess gave a good heave and hauled herself back on top of the platform gracelessly, laying there a moment. So tired. Empty. Debating on how to answer all of that. Breath in, hold, release. She brought herself up to sit on her feet, tucking back her ragged black hair. Drew a hand over her face wearily.  “A long story full of mostly bad decisions.”

 “I don’t remember anything because I sold my memories to an Old God. I remember snippets. Fragments. Worse, nothing makes real sense. No, I’m not sure you’re real either. In fact, I’ve not been sure about reality since falling in with N’zoth. Good news is, he’s dead.”  The abrupt and naked truth of it stung like a raw scrape in cold air. Somehow, hearing it in her own gravelly ruined voice made it all too much. 

 “My eyes are like this because the kaldorei--Tyrande--called upon the Night Warrior after the burning of Tel’drassil. I took the blessing with thousands of other kaldorei. This was before the Old God made an appearance.”  A bitter smirk twisted her face. “And as for what’s wrong with me,” Her gaze finally swept over to Sinafay as she rose. “I don’t think an eternity is enough to cover that one.” She spread her hands slightly, as if surrendering. The silent ‘what do you think now?’ so plainly evident.

Sinafay just… stared, head slowly tilting to the side as it often did when she was struggling to understand something. An awkward silence stretched on between them as she tried to make some sort of sense of everything Sylaess had said, before finally speaking up.

 “Teldrassil… burned? An Old God? Why would—“ 

 No, she didn’t have to ask about the Old God deal, she’d made similar mistakes in the past. At least that explained the missing memories.

 “I… remember a large influx of souls arriving… a lot of them ended up in this tower…”

 She shook her head. There was nothing to be done about that. This was her first time in Torghast, and she didn’t know how to get around at all.

 “My apologies, Sylaess. When we -do- manage to finally escape this place, and I manage to return to Azeroth, I will do all that I can to help get your memories back.”

 She looked at the distance between the cage  and platform.worried her bottom lip.

 “So I take it that, in true Sylaess fashion, you have no idea where we are or how to escape.

 “We’re in a place called Torghast. It’s the worst place in the Shadowlands you could possibly be. Of course.” The elf smiled a bit, superficially. A little refreshed that she wasn’t under extreme scrutiny. Something she shouldn’t have really feared with Sinafay. She knew that. Somehow.  “The halls keep on forever it seems. There’s a lot of levels down, the best we can do is keep trying.” She looked up at the swirling mass of clouds. At least she thought they were clouds. “This tower is the mirror of Icecrown citadel, so to speak. So. As we can’t get up and through to Icecrown, we’ve got to get back to whatever the hell is ground level. There has to be a door.”

 “Shall we?”

~*~*~

#{Warcraft Verse} → “Either it brings tears to their eyes” #{Story Logs} → “The pleasance of our fairytale” #{Sylaess} → “You’re thinking about something and it makes you forget to talk”

[littlebitoffanfic]

Cruel Touches

Fandom: TMNT Character: Raph Relationship: Raph/reader Request: Can I request a new reader story? One where rottmnt Raph constantly gropes and feels up the female readers butt cheeks and boobs and the reader getting tired of it asks him why he does that and then he says it’s because he likes her and then they have sex? Thanks! A.N: I focused more on the smut side. I hope you still enjoy it 😊

  You fiddled with the zip of your jacket, but your fingers weren’t playing ball tonight, and the zipper was stiff.  You had just walked back from a friends place when Raph had text you saying he was passing and was on your roof, if you wanted to meet for a little bit. And you weren’t going to turn down some quality time with the largest of the brothers.   One thing you had discovered about Raph was he liked to touch you. Even if he walked past you with plenty of room, he would brush against you. If he had to take something from you, his fingers would touch you if only for a moment. Of course, this had slowly grown. Raph would place his hand a little too low on your back when passing you. You would sit down beside him, and on his hand despite him knowing you were sitting there. Not that you minded. You always made a point to walk closest to him, pressing against him at any change you got. If you hugged him, your whole body was pressed against his front. In truth, you were as bad as he was sometimes. But it never seemed to go anywhere. You really wanted more from him, and while the touches were nice, they weren’t enough. His touch was cruel sometimes. You took the lift to the top floor, which was the one your apartment was on, but you would have to climb a flight of stairs to get to the roof. It was a chilly night with a cold breeze. Thankfully, the tall building kept you reality sheltered from the wind but you knew the second you went onto the open roof, you would be hit by the cold. You prepared yourself as you stood by the door to the roof, but the moment you stepped outside, you lost your breath. “Its freezing.” You complained, rubbing your hands together as you walked out onto the roof top. “Do your jacket up then.” Raph smirked, coming out from the shadows to meet you. “Its an old jacket. The zips so stubborn. And my fingers are already frozen.” You raise your hands to your mouth and blow onto your poor fingers. A chuckle met your ears as Raph walked up to you. You were oddly transfixed with his dementor. He seemed quite confident with the way he walked, and yet there was an uncertainty in his eyes. Raph stood in front of you, reaching forward and taking both sides of your jacket. As he lined up the zipper, your hand dropped to your side as you watched his face, yet he seemed to focused on the task at hand. As his hand pulled the zip up, you noticed how his knuckles grazed against your front in its wake. He seemed to go slightly slower when he passed your chest. You couldn’t help but shake your head. “What?” he asked, like a deer caught in headlights as he pulled away. “Must everything you do be about touching me?” you raise an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms over your chest as he takes a step back. But you were smirking, and he seemed even more confused at that. “I didn’t think you noticed.” He mumbles, looking anywhere but you. “Oh, you don’t think I notice when you touch me?” you cock your head to the side before stepping closer and closing the gap. “Do you like it?” He manages to stand his ground, but only out of sheer curiosity. “Yeah, I just wish it would lead to more.” You shrug your shoulders, looking to the side as your arms drop to your side. “More?” Raph steps forward eagerly and you look back at him, seeing his eyes wide with hope. “Yeah, more. So, do those touches mean anything, or are they just touches?” You ask, wholeheartedly wanting to know the answer. There was no point pining for something if it wasn’t what he wanted. “No, they mean everything to me. You mean everything to me.” He speaks quickly as if trying to convince you his words were true. But you would tell by how he was looking at you that he meant it. But his words did take you a little off guard. You wondered if he really meant that. If he felt the same yearning you felt for him which cant be satisfied by a chase touch? But you wanted to find out, and you wanted his touch more than anything else. A thought pops into your mind as you smirk. “You know, you managed to get the zip up easy enough-“ You drop his hand so you were holding it in front of you. “-I wonder how skilled you are at undoing it?” Biting your lower lip, you saw your comment had certainly not gone over his head. Raph seemed to jump, as if a jolt of electricity had coursed through his body. And the same jolt drove himself forward, his lips meeting yours with such force you stumbled back. His hands grab your waist and he pushes you up against the wall, kissing you harshly. You drape your arms around his neck. His hands slowly snake up your body to your jackets zip just under your chin. He slowly undoes it, as if giving you a chance to stop him if you wanted. His fingers grazed over your breasts again, making you arch into his chase touch. This encouraged him to undo the zip with more urgency. His hands slipped under your jacket and began to roam your body freely. From your sides up to your chest and down to your ass. You moan into the kiss, arching your back as you try to keep any amount of sanity you had. But his touch sent fire through your veins. Suddenly, Raph stops. Panting, he is frozen in place as he pull back from the kiss. “Is, is this okay?” he asks, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “No.” you smirk. His eyes widen and you can see the fear in them. You go up on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his shoulders. “I need more.” Your words broke him as he picks you up, your legs wrapping around his torso and heels hitting his shell as he attacks your necks with sloppy kisses. Occasionally you feel his teeth graze against your skin, making you let out a small, shock gasp but your hands are on the back of his head to stop him retreating. Raph pulls you away from the wall, and you cling to him. “Lets take this inside. Don’t want you getting frost bite on your fingers.” Rah teased as you pulled back to question him. Your apartment was on the top floor, so Raph only had to carry you down a single set of stairs that led to the roof and you were home. He put you down to open the door, but that didn’t mean he left you alone. As you fumbled with keys, he stood behind you, his hands on your hips. They slipped down, groping your ass before sliding up and around to your stomach. You just manged to open your door and you both slipped inside before you lost your mind. You pulled your coat off, hooking it up. But as you turned to lock your door again, he was behind you again. His cold fingers slipped under your top, making you almost drop the keys as you stifle a moan. Leaning back against him, he leaned down and kissed your neck, earning a moan from you. As his hands went further up your front, he rose your top with them, eventually cupping your breasts in his hands, the fabric of your top exposing your bra. His fingers hooked into the cups of your bra, pulling them down. Glancing at him, you saw his eyes glued to your now exposed breasts from over your shoulder. You smirked, pressing your body back against his own as you feel his hard member as it pressed up against your ass. the fabric of your top fell over your tits slightly, but Raph made quick work of pulling it off over your head. You used the moment to raise your arms and, once rid of the garment, you reached back and locked your arms around his neck. A small growl left his lips as his hands returned to your breasts before dropping further. He reached down, hooking his fingers in your waistband and pulling your jeans down, along with your panties. once they had pooled around your feet, you stepped out of them and spread your legs about 2 foot apart. Arching your back, you pushed you ass against his straining member. “Oh fuck.” Raph growled as he leaned down to press open mouth kisses to your neck again. He made quick work of your bra, which fell to the floor. His hands slowly roamed your body, eliciting moans of pleasure as he grinded against you. He seemed almost unsure at first. It was almost as if Raph had been more confident when you had had clothes on, but then again it could just be him wanting to savour the feeling of your bare flesh. “You just gonna grope me all night or are you actually gonna fuck me?” You look up at him through your eye lashes, and you see him suck in a breath before nodding. You twist around in his arms. “So, which one is it?” You press your naked body against him. “Fuck you.” He tries to say, his lets out a groan when you reach down between your bodies and gently cup his large cock through his red shorts. “Huh?” You ask, innocently. “Im gonna fuck you.” He manages to finish the sentence without moaning, but then he sees your shit eating smirk. Raph picks you up, making you let out an unexpected yelp as he carries you to your bedroom, chuckling. You weren’t going to let him get the best of you, so you started to kiss his neck, paying particular attention to the area between his jaw and neck. Your attention pays off, as he faulters, letting out a low moan as his head rolls to the side, allowing you more access. He seems to only be able to focus on your lips for a few moment before remembering his original reason for having you in his arms as he snaps back to reality and uses his foot to kick open your bedroom door and carries you inside. He kneels on the end on your bed before lowering you down as he stays on top of you. His lips find your own and Raph kisses you almost shy. You almost giggle into the kiss, considering the brazenness he had displayed in your hallways as he undressed you. When he does pull away again, you are left gasping for air. He groans a little as his eyes trail down your body and find your wet core pressed against the outline of his cock. He pushes against you, making you whimper as the fabric rubs against your clit, your eyes closing for a moment. Suddenly, the weight of him is lifted. You open your eyes and see him clambering off the bed to pull down his shorts. You couldn’t help but bite your lower lip as he crawls back over you. As before, he rubs himself against you, earning another whimper from you before he positions his tip at your entrance. He pushes inside you, his fingers digging into your flesh as his head hangs forward, his mouth open. A breathy moan leaves his lips as you are left without a voice, unable to breath as he fills you. His hips give small, involuntary thrusts as he tries to wait for your signal to continue, which you give him by rolling your hips against his own. Raph groans at he picks up a steady pace that satisfied you both for the time being. His gaze lowered to your breasts and he watched them move with every trust of his. Leaned down, kissing the valley between them as one of his hands left your side to reach up and playfully squeeze your left breast. You arching your back into his touch as he left a trail of kisses back up to your neck. He paid attention to the same area you had done when he had carried you to the bedroom, and you instantly understood why he had stopped. The spot made you weak as you shudder, his tongue and teeth grazing the area before pulling away. “You’re cruel.” You moan softly, drawing his attention to your eyes. He raises his head, his eyes flickering over your face as he increases the speed and instantly get the reaction he had hoped for. You throw your head back, mouth open as a moan escapes your lips. “You’re beautiful.” He groans, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he grabs your hips. “So, that’s how its gonna be?” you look back at him. “You get to be cruel and throw a compliment my way to keep me quiet?” “You’re not being quiet.” He smirks as he raises your hips slightly, adjusting his angle and pushing in deeper than before. Another moan leaves your lips before you could answer back, proving his point for him. “Cruel.” You groan, your fingers tangling in the sheets as you gasp a little. He simply smirks before leaning back down and kissing the same area again. And you tilt your head to the side, allowing him better access to it. Between the new angle and his lips, you were getting closer and closer to your end. You notice the grunts and growls falling from his mouth as his eyes flit across your body. He was close too. “Don’t stop. Please.” You managed to moan despite the fact you were a moaning mess beneath him. your words earn a moan from his lips as he pulls back, his hips snapping faster and faster. Until you could take no more. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull as your orgasm claims your body. As your body spasms and your walls pulse around him, Raph lets out a low groan before his hips snap into you, spilling himself with a few more thrusts. Raph very nearly collapses on top of you right then and there. He felt light headed and weak, but manages to keep himself from suffocating you. He crawls off you, lying to your side while the only sound was panting. When you come back from your high, you realize your mouth is incredibly dry. “Thirsty?” you offer, sitting up and looking to Raph. He nods, and you get up. Grabbing a dressing gown, you pull it over your naked form and tie the belt loosely around yourself before leaving the room. Apparently, Raph didn’t want to be alone or away from you, because you heard a few creaks of the floor and some fumbling and he came out of the bedroom with his shorts back on. He follows you to the kitchen, pausing in the living room. “Hey, you wanna watch a movie?” He suddenly asks, making you turn and look at him. He drops your eyes, turning his head to the side as he rung his hands. he seemed so unsure of himself, despite the fact you had just had sex not 5 minutes ago. But you didn’t laugh. Perhaps he thought you wouldn’t want him around anymore, or wouldn’t want to spend time with him, or this was only a one time thing. In truth, you didn’t know the answer to the last question, but you really hoped it wasn’t. “Sure. Why don’t you chose something and I’ll get us something to drink.” You smile sweetly and continue to the kitchen. You poured two glasses of water and grabbed a bag of popcorn you had been saving. With the bag under your arm and the glasses in each hand, you went back to the living room just as the TV came on and the logos appeared on screen. Raph sat on your sofa, smiling when you came in. giving him his glass, you threw the bag on the seat beside him before putting your glass on the side. “Where you gonna sit?” Raph suddenly asked, his eyes flickering from the few single seaters to the seat beside him. “Where do you want me to sit?” You asked, wondering if was trying to tell you something. “as close to me as possible.” His eyes flicked to the TV as a blush appeared on his cheeks again. Smiling, you were more than happy to accommodate him. Walking up to him, you sat on his lap, both your legs pulled to one side as you draped your arm around his neck. “Is this okay?” You asked innocently. “Yeah.” He beamed, his arms locking around you for a moment before one settled on your side and the other slipped under your dressing gown to your bare thigh. You giggle, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you reached for the remote and pressed play on the movie. At least you could pause it, because you had a feeling you would be going for a round 2 tonight. 

#raph #raphael #raph x reader #raphael x reader #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles

[himbowelsh]

imagine dick winters the same but with extreme horny energy throughout the series. terrifying.

the sheer power of thot!winters... i can’t even

Nixon has never enjoyed personal meetings with Colonel Sink. It reminds him too keenly of being called into the headmaster’s office as a boy. Sure, the gilt-carved walls and massive oak-paneled desk might be absent; he’s no longer a sulky twelve year old, wearing knee-high socks and a bow tie; but the feeling is still there. Sink never throws his weight around just to be intimidating  ---  a trait in a leader Nixon can actually respect  ---  but when he wants to, Sink can be the tallest man in the room. Everyone else looks, and feels, tiny in his shadow.

This meeting could be about a dozen things. Hopefully Sink doesn’t know about the footlocker.

“Captain Nixon.” He doesn’t look angry, which is a great start. Sink just looks tired  ---  not surprising, for a man with the entire 506th to look after. Nixon just has to deal with battalion staff, and he felt himself going grey at the temples after a week. Sink leans forward, bracing himself standing against the desk. Nixon straightens his back and makes himself attentive, ever the headmaster’s favorite student. “Now, I called you here to discuss something delicate. You intelligence men know how to keep things confidential.”

Nixon’s mind flashes through a montage  ---  humming La Marseilles in Dick’s earshot before Normandy, leaving a coffee stain right over Holland on the map on Dick’s desk, the Dutch-to-English dictionary he placed on Dick’s nightstand for safekeeping.

“Part of the job description, sir,” he replies, smiling.

Sink looks uncomfortable. “It’s… a delicate situation. You understand.”

Oh Christ, it’s definitely about the footlocker. Nixon’s shoulders tense, though his face doesn’t change. If he’s about to get demoted, he’s going to look respectable doing it.

“About Captain Winters.”

Oh.

Oh?

“The man’s a damn good soldier. Gets all the work done, is excellent with the men… you see, they respect him. These men need officers they can look up to.”

Oh.

“Not ones who get caught naked in a henhouse with the mayor of Aldbourne’s damn daughter on top of him!”

Nixon recalls that day in vivid detail — mostly because it was last weekend, but also because of the vivid red Dick blushed— presumably all over— even though he was grinning while telling it. The man has the patience of a saint, and double the virtues that come along with it. You could fill a new testament with the exploits of Dick Winters… except at least half of the pages would be torn straight from a bodice-ripper novel.

“Now, I try to make allowances for good officers, but this is the third time it’s happened... this month. When I talk to Winters about it, he says ‘yes sir, it’ll never happen again’. Then you know what he goes and does?”

It takes Nixon a second to realize Sink’s pointing at him because he expects an answer. “He does it again,” he volunteers.

Sink smacks the desk. “He does it again!”

He does plenty more that Sink doesn’t hear about, too, but Nixon’s not about to admit that to the man’s face.

“Now, you know how to handle him. If anyone in the army can wrangle the damn man, it’s you! From here on out, your job is to keep Winters out of trouble. I hate to demote a good officer, but he’s about to leave me no choice. Take care of it, Nixon.”

Buried deep down, a part of Nixon feels like cackling. Him, official Dick Winters babysitter? Christ, it’s like putting the death row inmates in charge of the electric chair, or letting a mouse run the whole kitchen! Rather than be written up for insubordination this early in the morning, Nixon just bows his head rising smoothly from his chair. “Yes, sir. I’ll look after him, sir.”

Sink sighs, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “A model officer. A damn good man. All I ask is for him to keep it inside his pants. Is that too much to ask?”

It’s probably a rhetorical question. Nixon smiles pleasantly, and answers anyway. “Nothing’s too much for Captain Winters, sir.”

Sink waves him off with a shake of his head, settling down to focus on his next pressing issue. Nixon knows when he’s been dismissed; frankly, he can’t get out of the colonel’s office fast enough.

By the time he makes it back to the billet he and Dick are sharing, the story is burning his tongue like a sparkler. Jesus, what will Dick think? You never know what you’re going to get in a one-on-one with the brass, but babysitting duty’s something else. If Nixon’s suddenly the responsible one…

“Hey, Dick!” he calls, slamming the door to their shared house open. “Wait ‘til you get a load of —“

Nixon stops dead in the doorway, mouth hanging open. Suddenly, his mind is nothing but radio static. Dead air. A complete blank. Jesus Christ, he should learn to knock.

“Hiya, Nix,” Dick greets amiably, popping his head out from under his lady friend’s skirt. His flushed lips are almost more obscene than her wanton moaning. “Give me a few minutes, I’m just finishing up here.”

“Right.” Nixon snaps his fingers, then points a thumb over his shoulder, out the door. “I’ll just be — yeah, okay. You kids have fun.”

Yet another room he can’t escape from fast enough. This is turning into a day of uncomfortable meetings, and he’d kind of like to go into hibernation just to avoid any more.

Dick’s companion leaves first, a couple minutes after Nixon makes himself scarce. Her blouse is buttoned unevenly; she walks out on unsteady legs, face still flushed. Nixon waits a moment, just to make sure no more girls are following — he still remembers the night he got caught in a tragic jam, at least six girls filing out of their rooms as he tried to go in — but when no one else follows, he steps inside.

This time, he has the grace to rap lightly on the door. Dick turns, sparing him a close-lipped smile as he steps inside. By this point, Nixon knows he shouldn’t be surprised… still, Dick has a talent for it. “You know, I step out for an hour…”

“Veronica was just passing by.” Dick studies his reflection in the mirror, and splashed a bit of water on his face. “We’re old acquaintances. I invited her in because it’s the nice thing to do.”

“‘Old acquaintances?’” Nixon echoes, putting up a valiant effort not to laugh. “How far do you go back? All the way to last week?”

“Three weeks ago, actually,” Dick replies. By now, Nixon knows him well enough to catch the humor in his dry tone.

“Right, right.” He unbuttons his officer’s coat, surreptitiously scanning the room; Dick’s extracurriculars often leave evidence behind, and Nixon would prefer not to step on an earring again. “Well, that was nice of you. Seemed like she was enjoying herself.”

“Seemed like it,” Dick agrees, tone mild. When Nixon turns, he’s sprawled out in an armchair, head tilted back. Such exploits take a lot out of a guy… and Dick never gives himself a break. It’s not enough to be up with the sun sorting paperwork; he also puts in a different kind of work, so often that it’s amazing he hasn’t sprained anything. Burning the candle at both ends, indeed; Dick’s candle gets so much use, Nixon’s shocked it even lights anymore.

“I was going to tell you,” he says, draping his coat over the back of Dick’s desk chair, “about my meeting with Sink.” Dick makes a noncommittal noise of agreement, but at least Nixon knows he’s listening. “Got it into his head that I’m the responsible party here. Poor man. Couldn’t bring myself to prove him wrong just yet.”

Dick is quiet for a few moments; long enough to sit forward, elbows braced against his knees, watching his friend solemnly. Nixon might be the intelligence officer, but Dick’s always had a stare that can unwravel people without trying. “What did he say?” he asks, solemn.

Nixon rolls his shoulders in an easy shrug. “He asked me to keep an eye on you.” He lingers on the contents atop the dresser for a moment, pretending they’re more interesting than they are. Sure enough — a pair of ruby earrings sit forgotten. Nixon’s lips twist as he plucks them up, placing them inside a clean ashtray. Someone’s going to come looking for them eventually. “Sink’s talking about demotion, Dick. It’s crossed his mind.”

“Demotion? For what?” Dick doesn’t even sound outraged — only surprised.

“Well, the mayor’s daughter came up.”

Dick’s mouth drops open in protest; he closes it just as quickly. “Fair. Why else?”

Nixon can think of… at least twenty more reasons. Lieutenant Baldassari of the Nurses’ Corps… the baker’s wife… the waitress with the bright lipstick… that farm girl who left Dick pulling hay out of his clothes for a week… hell, when Kathy was visiting, Nixon even made the mistake of inviting Dick to dine with them. Never again. If any man ought to have it out for Dick Winters, it’s him. 

(At least Dick had the courtesy to invite him. Nixon turned the offer down — like hell if Kathy wanted him in the middle, anyways.)

The thing is… Dick’s character makes him otherwise unimpeachable. He’s so damned good. Hardworking, determined, coolheaded, sober as a judge… and filled with tireless energy towards his duty. So much energy. A frightening amount of energy, all the time, ready to lead the men in anything.

It took Nixon a while to figure out where he generates it all.

“All I can tell you is, be careful. Chrissakes, lock your doors, at least, so innocent people can’t just walk in.” Nixon turns, leaning against the dresser and crossing his arms. “I don’t have to remind you about the Sobel incident.”

“I remember,” Dick replies, lips quirking in a dry half-grin.

“Great! So you remember Sobel’s sister. And why the man was dead-set on driving you out of the damn army.”

“It was nice of his family to visit from Chicago,” is all Dick says. When Nixon just stares at him, Dick sighs and rises from his chair, turning to the desk. “I’ve got some paperwork, Nix.”

“Right.” Nixon waits for a moment, weighing the likelihood of Dick giving in and continuing the conversation. It’s not high. Shaking his head, he pushes off of the dresser and starts across the room. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Have fun. Oh, and Dick —“

As Nixon turns in the doorway, Dick looks up.

“You want me to believe you’re going to stay in and be good all night, you might wanna put some clothes on.”

Standing buck-naked in the middle of their shared room, Dick shrugs his lean shoulders, and smiles. “Will do, Nix.”

#this is the most cursed thing ive ever written #dick winters #lewis nixon #my writing #band of brothers

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 252: Suplex of Feels

Previously on BnHA: Deku, Kacchan, and Shouto visited Todobrook Heights one time, just the one!!, so of course it just so happened to also be the one time that Natsuo got straight up kidnapped by a villain for no reason because THAT’S JUST HOW LIFE GOES. Thankfully for Natsuo, the Terror Trio had kind of a Cinderella thing going on where if they didn’t beat a villain before Endeavor by midnight, their character development would turn back into a pumpkin, and I’m not really sure I stuck the landing on that metaphor but anyway! So Shouto used Flashfire to roast the villain alive, Deku used Blackwhip to save some hapless civilians who got caught in the crossfire of everything, and Kacchan used his cool fast explosions which don’t have a new name yet because he’s focused on more important things to rocket over and save Natsuo from becoming roadkill. And then Endeavor gave him and Natsuo a BIG OL’ HUG and my heart went, oh.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi grabs a handful of raw, squishy feels out of a bucket and just full on slaps me across the face with them. Endeavor has a moment of agonizing, excruciating vulnerability and apologizes to Natsuo for everything -- like, everything -- and says Natsuo doesn’t have to forgive him, and that in fact he doesn’t want him to forgive him, and that he just wants to atone for everything he’s done. And just, I can’t even describe the scene, but it’s just perfect down to the last detail, and exactly what I wanted. And meanwhile Deku, Shouto, and Kacchan stand there watching, and then Kacchan has a fucking epiphany and FINALLY DECIDES ON A HERO NAME!!, and I completely lose my goddamn mind, only to then be brought down to the lowest of lows when he immediately says that he’s not going to reveal it yet because THERE’S SOMEONE ELSE HE HAS TO TELL FIRST. So once I’m done sighing, we cut to later and Endeavor is all “Fuyumi I’m gonna buy a house for you guys so you can all live a happy life with your mom and never see me again,” and yeah. You guys I am in shambles.

hey everyone, whoever is doing Mangastream’s thumbnails every week deserves a raise though

especially since they’re not actually getting paid for it at all lol. their resolve to find the most ridiculous Kacchan expression every week and slap it on their home page is 100% a labor of love. AND IT SHOWS

lol and here I was half-worried the chapter would pick up after all the dust had settled, and we’d miss out on this glorious scene of Kacchan acting like he’s the goddamn wicked witch of the west and the sprinklers just turned on. anyways, I know what I’m thankful for this holiday

HAHAHAHAHA

I’D LIKE TO TAKE A MINUTE AND THANK ALL OF OUR SPONSORS AND OUR GREAT CREW WHO MADE THIS ALL POSSIBLE. SHOUT OUT TO ENDING, YOU’RE THE REAL MVP. BIG “HEY WHAT’S UP” TO TOUYA, WHO STRAIGHT UP DIED JUST SO ENDEAVOR COULD HAVE ANGST AT A CRITICAL MOMENT AND FORCE KACCHAN TO BE THE ONE TO SAVE NATSUO INSTEAD. AND A HUGE FUCKING “YOU THE MAN, BRO” TO THAT MORON SPEEDING BLINDLY IN THE TAXI CAB WHILE ON HIS PHONE AND NOT PAYING THE SLIGHTEST BIT OF ATTENTION TO THE ROAD IN FRONT OF HIM! WITHOUT YOUR RECKLESS DISREGARD FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY AND THAT OF OTHERS, THIS NEVER COULD HAVE HAPPENED. OH GOD, THEY’RE PLAYING THE MUSIC NOW, I GOTTA HURRY UP... AH... I’M SO GRATEFUL TO ALL MIGHT, GIVER OF SO MANY LEGENDARY HERO HUGS, AND TO SLIDIN’ GO, YES REALLY SLIDIN’ GO, WHO ESTABLISHED THIS GAG BACK IN CHAPTER 219. YOU BOTH WALKED SO ENDEAVOR COULD RUN. AND LAST BUT CERTAINLY NOT LEAST, TO HORIKOSHI KOUHEI, WHO IS ABSOLUTELY FUCKING DETERMINED TO HAVE EVERY PRO HERO IN THE COUNTRY HUG KACCHAN BEFORE THE SERIES IS OVER. YOUR TIRELESS EFFORTS ARE THE REASON I GET OUT OF BED EVERY MORNING. GOD BLESS YOU ALL AND GOOD NIGHT

anyway

sorry Kacchan this is just your life now. you’re just stuck here. by the way, Endeavor really is just an absolute MOUNTAIN of a man, though?? like, a whole, absolute unit. like remember a few chapters ago when I was joking about how he was eight feet tall? well Natsuo is 5’11” according to the wiki, and you can tell by looking at him that he is a solidly built guy. like, he eats his fucking Wheaties. and Endeavor is still able to FULLY WRAP HIS ARMS AROUND both him and Katsuki together WITH ROOM TO SPARE and just. ?????? WHAT EVEN IS THIS MAN good grief

anyway poor Natsu looks close to passing out though so maybe you fucking should let them go Endeav

SDLFKJSDLFKH

1) seriously though look at how big his hands are jesus christ is he even a human!?!?

and 2)!! the amount of sheer detail which was put into this panel, with the facial expressions and the shading and all, only for Katsuki to open his big fucking mouth with ABSOLUTELY NO REGARD! like, this could have been one of the most heartrending panels in the entire series. but instead it’s forever immortalized with Bakugou fucking Katsuki and his brutal fucking speech bubble interjecting with the most vicious insult his angry toddler brain could think of. this panel has the same energy as Deku receiving a heartfelt thank you letter from a child whose life he saved only to unfold it and read that iconic opening line, “SORRY FOR PUNCHING YOU IN THE BALLS LOL”

oh my

boy took matters into his own hands. after Enji just STRAIGHT UP IGNORED HIS PLEAS lmao. this entire chapter is a gift, and we’re only on the second page. also that katakana there is all “SUPON”, which I don’t know what that means, but I have to tell you that to me this felt more like a “ZWOOP.” but that’s just how I personally read it

eyyyyy and there’s our half-naked lukewarm boi

and look, I’m not advocating for Shouto to actually be walking around half naked, because this is a children’s manga and Shouto is just a baby, and that kind of thing is obviously inappropriate unless you’re [checks notes] one of his female classmates, who just like Shouto are also only teenagers, but it’s okay for them because they have boobs. hey wait

but anyway, I will say that I appreciate that his uniform really did burn off just as you would expect, and that he used his ice quirk to preserve his modesty lol. quick thinking on his part

meanwhile all the people Deku rescued are stumbling out of their cars nauseously and thanking him. I like how all of the other traffic on this highway has apparently just come to a halt now. I wonder if the Endeavormobile also came equipped with some traffic cones and road flares that launched out of the trunk along with the costumes

oh hey a BakuDeku interaction, don’t mind me, I’m just... [folds hands on desk and leans forward]

someone please tell me what he actually called Deku here because I’m dying to know. anyways whatever it was, “dumb-ku” is a great translation. it’s just the right amount of stupid and immature, and I love how Deku just fucking answers to it anyway like shrug, whatever

also love how the first thing Katsuki asks is whether anyone is hurt. swear to god this kid makes me love him more with each passing week

fond sigh

okay guys, I’m getting more and more excited here now, and let me explain why. it’s because Katsuki, despite having achieved (as Deku points out) a complete and perfect victory here, is very obviously agitated and angry still. and I think the reason for that is because even though he’s achieved the goal Endeavor set out for them, he still hasn’t achieved what he wanted from this internship. the other two have! Deku accomplished his goal of gaining more control over Blackwhip, and Shouto is now well on his way to mastering Flashfire. but Katsuki specifically came here with the intent of discovering something intangible that he couldn’t put a name to. and even though he’s gotten stronger just like the others, he still hasn’t achieved what he set out to do yet, and I think he’s getting frustrated by it. and the reason I’m so excited is because I think we’re inching closer and closer to seeing that finally get resolved. ahhhhhhh

(ETA: THIS CHAPTER IS THE MONKEY’S PAW WISH OF CHAPTERS.)

anyway I’ll shut up now and read. here’s Katsuki bragging to Endeavor, and Endeavor doing his best All Might impression what the fuck

that line could have come straight out of All Might’s mouth and it would have sounded 100% natural. well everyone, we did it. we fucking broke Endeavor. I hope you’re happy. lol what the fuck is happening what is this

DFKLSLDGHK

I fucking see those wobbly speech bubbles Endeavor, are you crying, because -- !! holy shit this chapter is taking my emotions all over the place

lol Kacchan’s pissed off that Endeavor isn’t more pissed off about being shown up by some punk kids

Deku’s eyes. this chapter. I just

ohhhhhhhhhhhh shit here we go

for everyone out there who was worried that Natsu would just forgive Endeavor outright after the events of this chapter, I think we’ve arrived at the part where your fears are assuaged. I pretty much expected this was how it would go down, because for all the criticism he’s been getting week after week, Horikoshi has been writing the Todorokis realistically and consistently throughout this entire arc, and this was the natural conclusion based on what we’ve seen up till now. Natsuo won’t just forgive Endeavor just like that, because why would he? and Endeavor just has to deal with it. and it’s all very sad and painfully real

SON OF A BITCH

the fucking words “I’m sorry” really just came out of his mouth at last, holy shit. this is the first time, right? as far as I can recall, anyway. oh shit

oh shit

my fucking jaw. just dropped. just. fuck me, I wasn’t ready for this. sure Enji, just go ahead and pour your heart out. lord

imagine if his voice actor goes all out in this scene like Katsuki’s did in episode 61. holy shit, I never thought the thing that destroyed me would be a sad confession in a fucking shounen manga by the character I used to despise. life is funny

ohhhhhhhhhh

[awkward glance around the fandom] soooo. how’s everybody doing? aheh. [coughs]

oh shiiiiiiIIIIItttt

oh look at that, Endeavor didn’t actually murder his child, who could have predicted that. but maybe I’ll just shut up now though since I’m not here to start any shit

and the pain train to feels junction just keeps on chugging. fuck

YOU SEE!! BRUTAL!! RUTHLESS!! SO REALISTIC IT HURTS. Endeavor is genuinely sorry, but it’s all coming way too late to be of any use! and Natsuo is so pained because he honestly probably would like nothing more than to be able to forgive his dad, and for them to all just be a happy, normal, loving family again, but he can’t. because they’re not. and apologies can’t erase the past, or make up for it. there is no way to change what happened. Touya’s still dead, and the scars from all those years of neglect and abuse are still fucking there, and they’re not just going to go away, even if Enji is remorseful. Enji becoming a good man now doesn’t make up for all the years that he wasn’t! he can’t just undo it! and that’s the tragedy of it!! you feel so bad for the man -- or at least, I do -- but at the same time, part of the atonement process is to accept the consequences of everything he did!

and also, for everyone saying he hasn’t faced any actual consequences yet -- one person in particular sent me a very detailed and thoughtful ask, which I apologize for not responding to yet -- I say this with all due respect: there. look. there are your consequences, right there. everything he will never have. everything he can’t salvage. the pain of knowing he was the cause of all this. the pain of seeing the misery in his son’s eyes and knowing he can’t fix it, and knowing the hurt he’s caused to the ones he loved most. that is karma. that’s a fucking punishment. that’s an agony beyond any physical torture that anyone could ever possibly dream up. his punishment is that after all these years, he finally gets to feel all of the suffering he’s inflicted on them, and he’d do anything to take it back now, but he can’t. that’s it! and we all fucking hate it, and no one is happy! and it’s not fucking fair! haha! but that’s how it fucking is, though. and I swear to god, I keep saying it, but it’s some of the most brutally realistic shit I’ve ever seen in a fucking manga. fuck

anyways, I need to stop monologuing or else I’m never going to finish this fucking chapter, but rest assured my soul is being ripped the fuck apart. hmm

:’)

(ETA: note the conspicuous lack of a Kacchan reaction panel directly after the “I’m never gonna forgive you” panel. everyone else gets one. but not him. in fact, there are no more reaction panels of him until this speech ends, and then we get one zoomed far away where we can’t really see his face. but I’m sure that’s all just a coincidence and means absolutely nothing! oh baby. what a chapter.)

:’)))))))

by the way, quick shoutout to that person in the taxi giving them the Rock Lee Eyes and having just no idea what the fuck is going on sob. thanks to you for keeping me from breaking into full on sobs here. I’m holding it together for you, random deer-in-headlights citizen

[INHALES!!!]

that’s it. I don’t. fuck. anyways. I ranted about all my feelings already, so just. ... you all get it by this point, right?

oh Kacchan. penny for your thoughts. I’m almost done with that essay I keep rewriting. you have a lot to think about right now huh

and Shouto. oh Shouto. safe to say this is a side of his father he’s never seen nor imagined he would see before

YOU GUYS THIS IS SO FUCKING IMPORTANT THOUGH, SHIT

[GRABS THIS PANEL AND FRANTICALLY WAVES IT ALL OVER THE BNHA TAG] I’M!!! JUST!!! SAYING!!! THOUGH!!!!!!!

oh, we’re still going? SURE WHY THE FUCK NOT

WHATEVER HORIKOSHI!!! JUST KEEP COMING AT ME, THEN!! GO AHEAD AND FINISH ME OFF WITH A FUCKING SUPLEX OF FEELS!! YOU SON OF A BITCH

and now Ending’s freaking the fuck out and screaming for Endeavor to stop. lol it’s like the villain version of Can’t Ya See-Kun. Endeavor you jackhole, this isn’t on brand! CUT IT OUT

forget it, Jake. it’s Character Development

now the police are arriving and Deku’s like THANK GOODNESS because the awkwardness was about to go critical here. meanwhile, pay no attention to how Katsuki is staring at him despite having no real reason to be in this panel!

[sidles up next to Kacchan] so hey fella. did any of that hit a nerve, perchance. did it open any metaphorical eyes. dust off any momentous revelations that you’ve been valiantly trying to keep shelved in your mental basement. have the SEEDS of your PERSONAL GROWTH been CULTIVATED. are the JEHOVAH’S WITNESSES of NOT BEING A DICK knocking at your inner door!?

anyway so now we’re cutting to Endeavor talking with the authorities while Chauffeur Armstrong tells him he needs to watch his back

friendly reminder that a bearded hermit flew around town on a glass hoverchair singing a song about Endeavor bringing darkness to the world or some shit not too long ago. that’s still a thing! better watch it Enji

HOLY FUCKARONI

(ETA: shoutout to that “neither does the light” line because that’s some straight up Harry Potter quotable bullshit and I love it and Endeavor’s character development continues to slay me that is all.)

FUCKING!!! CHRIST!!! OH GOD!!! OH JESUS!!!!

HMGGHHHHAAAA SOMEONE HELP ME OH MY GOD I’M SHAKING, AHHHHHHH

(ETA: listen you guys, in all of my “!!!!” I didn’t stop to appreciate all of the other things about this scene. but Shouto has changed into his hero costume which is a great little detail that I love because he obviously didn’t feel like standing around freezing his butt off and being oggled by the crowd. and then we have Natsu coming over to thank them all for saving his life, which is great, and he’s such a sweetheart. and then Deku actually saying “Bakugou” for probably the first and only time in his life lmao. and then, finally, his fucking face when he realizes Kacchan has finally chosen a hero name. he’s fucking ecstatic. he can’t wait!! anyway so Deku is me.)

NO BUT I’M FULLY SERIOUS YOU GUYS, I’M TREMBLING LIKE A FUCKING LEAF, IT’S PROBABLY THE CAFFEINE IN ME BUT STILL, OH MY GOD, I’M PARALYZED, I CAN’T SCROLL DOWN, MY HEART IS POUNDING, MY LIFE IS ABOUT TO BE FOREVER CHANGED, OH FUCKSTICKS, OH SHIT

NOOOOOOOOOOO

FUCK MY FUCKING -- WHERE IS HAWKS!!?!? WHERE IS HE!?!? I SWEAR TO GOD IF THAT FUCKING MAGPIE DOESN’T SWOOP DOWN RIGHT THE FUCK NOW WITH JEANIST IN TOW ALL “HAHA IT WAS ALL A MISUNDERSTANDING” I’M GOING TO --

(ETA: but lmao at the fact that Shouto was all “okay, so you’re not going to tell him, but what about me, your Best Friend?” like he really heard “DROP DEAD ASSHOLE” and thought “well, that was Midoriya though, LET ME TAKE A STAB AT IT.” this is the most earnest child in the universe and this OT3 continues to bring me boundless joy.)

FUCK

LISTEN YOU KNOW I LOVE THAT TODODRAMA, BUT YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT TO ME!! I’M A HUMAN BEING!! IF YOU CUT ME I BLEED!! WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS. I’M GOING TO STRAIGHT UP CRY ALL OVER AGAIN YOU HEARTLESS PIECE OF SHIT

looool

“and his friends.” you hear that, Kacchan. now COME BACK OUT HERE AND TELL US YOUR HERO NAME RIGHT NOW YOUNG MAN!!!

Endeavor you better save this chapter. I’m counting on you dog

oh. oh shit

hahaha. well fuck

first of all, look at Mr. “la dee dah I’m just going to build my family a new house on a whim because I’m so fucking rich” over here, like, damn, Endeavor. and second of all my heart is just a bludgeoned hemorrhaging mass of feels at this point and I’m not even going to try to salvage it. and third of all, this is exactly the type of resolution I wanted, pain and all, and I’m so goddamn satisfied with it it’s almost ridiculous. because the man fucking gets it. for everyone who continues to doubt Endeavor’s intentions, look no fucking further than this. this isn’t a narcissist trying to gaslight his victims and get back in his family’s good graces and make it all about him yet again. this is a man who understands that the best thing for his family right now is for them to be allowed to piece their lives back together without him. and so he’s enabling them to do that, and voluntarily stepping out of the picture while still providing for them. and damn but I respect that so much. fuck yeah, Enji. this was the right thing to do. it doesn’t make up for all the mistakes you’ve made, because nothing can do that. but you’re a better man now, and this right here is exactly the type of thing people mean when they say actions speak louder than words. so, respect

and that’s it! we’ve officially experienced all of the human emotions in this chapter! oh and also that’s it, as in the chapter is done. so yeah. well that sure was a whirlwind now wasn’t it

#bnha 252 #endeavor #bakugou katsuki #todoroki natsuo #todoroki shouto #midoriya izuku #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #lol I couldn't think of any funny tags on account of ALL THE FEELS STILL HAVING THEIR WAY WITH ME #if anything comes to mind later I'll edit this #this chapter hit me like a sock full of loose change #just #I need a minute

[ambered-glazed-sheep]

Please do go on about Doomslayer and his morals. I'm legit fascinated by him since starting the let's play I'm watching and I'd love to hear your take on him (I know literally nothing about the Doom franchise other than lots of blood and violence against demons and also badass music)

You know, a year ago when my friends asked me 'hey do you wanna play minecraft' and i said 'yeah sure' i would have never thought i would one day have a minecraft sideblog where i get questions about the personality of the main character of a shooter fps game (of all things!) that is known for its incredible violence.

But here you go:

(prepare yourself this has gotten way longer than i thought oh god, and also it has nothing to do with hermits whatsoever. warnings for language and descriptions of violence? and i assume the readmore won’t be working the way i want it to)

Ok so, Doom!

First of all, i know nothing about the old games, and i’ve only seen a minimal amount of Doom Eternal Letsplays. Most of this is based on Doom (2016). 

Ok so we all start out thinking Doomguy! It’s the guy you play in Doom. The hand that hold the gun YOU are shooting demons with. And sure, you can go trough the whole game with that mindset, but that’s boring and we are overthinking fictional characters in this house.

ID software actually managed to give Doomguy/Doomslayer a TON of personality despite him never saying a word, barely any cutscenes to show what he does when you don’t control him (at least in Doom 2016), and not a lot of other characters to interact with despite enemy monsters.

The game just leaves you little hints and snippets and that’s what makes Doomslayer so exciting to think about. Just the right levels between ‘cryptid half-god who never shows emotion and is a player-insert’ and ‘this dude’s got an AGENDA. he has PLACES TO BE’. You are him as you play, but sometimes he makes decisions on his own. But personally, i could never find myself to disagree.

First, you got the intro sequence. 

You got a unknown voice telling you: 

“They are rage. Brutal, without mercy. But you. You will be worse. Rip and Tear, until it is done.”

First of all, YO. WOW. HOLY SHIT.

The scene immediately shifts to Doomslayer waking up. He’s naked, he’s chained down somewhere, theresa SHIT TON of scars littering his arms and hands. First thing HE does, on his own behalf, is ripping off the chains by flexing a little (literal iron chains!!!), smashing a zombies head against the sarcophagus he lays in and completely obliterating said head into a bit of blood (mind you, three seconds after he woke up from a thousands of years long coma!! but we only learn that later), and then promptly gets up, picks up a pistol, and now it’s your, the players turn. This takes like 8 seconds in total. This man means BUSINESS. That’s the first thing we learn.

Second thing that strikes me is the interactions with Samuel Hayden. 

Doomslayer is patient when a computer voice tells him the status of the base. He is patient as he looks at the screens to see what is going on. (a demonic invasion, thats what). But then dear Dr. Samuel Hayden calls. 

Dr. Hayden says “Hi, i’m the boss here, i’m sure we can work together in a way that benefits us both uwu”. Doomslayer immediately grabs the PC screen and pushes it aside. His gesture says, i’m done with this. im sick of this dude. this guy is full of shit. And he’s right! And that after barely hearing two sentences from Hayden!

So the second thing we learn is that he has no time for people trying to exploit him. He hears Hayden, he has a gut feeling that this dude is a little fishy, maybe he just plain doesnt like higher ups and heads of facilities. But we learn that he IS. NOT. going to listen to this man, and his body language makes that very clear without being actually violent against the person (he doesnt destroy the Screen either! just pushes it aside very annoyed. He isn’t mindlessly destroying property here.)

This continues. 

Hayden goes ‘hey maybe don’t destroy that energy source!’ in the few seconds you dont control him, Doomslayer listens. He hesitates. He considers. Then he destroys the thing anyways. Hayden keeps telling him to stop, but Doomslayer doesnt listen. He’s got his own mind!

This was mostly about Haydens Company, the UAC, harvesting hell energy, and hurting people in the process. 

There’s a scene where Doomslayer rides an elevator. Hayden, over the comms, tells him that everyone that has died in the demon attack was a nacessary sacrifice that will bring a new future or some shit like that. the camera pans down to show some poor sods corpse at those very words. Doomslayer cracks his knuckles. he is NOT HAPPY about that, so we know he doesnt like it when human lifes are sacrificed. He destroys the communicator, so he doesnt have to listen to Haydens voice telling him lies and trying to sway him anymore. 

(then he takes out his shotgun, the doors open, metal starts playing and the doom logo is shown, but that’s more about making the player feel epic than showing doomslayers personality,,)

Now i would like to talk about VEGA, the AI that controls the mars facility. 

VEGA occasionally talks to us/the Slayer. He is very straightforward, tells us what to do and why to do it, and is generally very polite. In the story, Doomslayer listens to Vega. 

Now why does he listen to VEGA but not Hayden? 

I think it’s because Hayden tries to get him to do things that just benefit him, and Hayden is very manipulative in his words (or tries to be lol), while Vega just says (if you destroy this thing, that door will open. I think Doomslayer appreciates it when people are honest to him.

And in the end, Doomslayer on his own decides to save a backup of VEGA. VEGA didn’t ask him to, Doomslayer did that on his own. It’s not relevant to his mission, he doesnt need VEGA to go to hell to close portals and whatnot. But he does save him. Why? I think it’s because he cares. Because he’s come to like VEGA. Because Vega didn’t try to manipulate him and screw him over. 

Next up is the Slayers Testament. 

These are a bunch of writings/recordings that you find scattered in the hell levels. (i highly recommend listening to them/reading them, they are metal as fuck and give me such an immense feeling of power bc they are talking about me, the doomslayer)

These testaments were written by demons. They were genuinely afraid of the slayer. 

Quote:

Unbreakable, incorruptible, unyielding, the Doom Slayer sought to end the dominion of the dark realm.

As said, i don’t think these are purely talking about his physical strength. They are talking about his... well, mentality. His Codex. They see him as an unstoppable force. He is incorruptible. Let that sink in. Man walks trough hordes of demons and at no point ever thinks ‘yeah maybe this is a bit much’ or ‘they just keep coming this is pointless’. No. He’s unyielding. (Can you tell how much i love the words in these testaments? It’s just got such a nice ring to it.)

In battle, the Doomslayer is BRUTAL. He tears apart demons, rips their eyes out, all that. He stomps on heads like they’re water balloons and isn’t fazed at all. Nothing stops this man. (except players like me who fall off the map 5 consecutive times, but lets just imagine the doomslayer is actually like he would be if someone played the game perfectly. player skill shouldn’t be considered in my headcanons jahdjhgd) One could even argue he has fun at this, because there are some animations like ripping off a zombies arm and beating the Zombie with it, or feeding a demon it’s own heart.

I feel like that says a lot about his personality as well!

He doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t doubt himself. He doesn’t question his cause! He fights to get rid of the demons, not just the ones in his way, but every. demon. He will go out of his way to kill more demons. You could either take this as him having fun, or him following his own moral codex to get rid of every demon, or him being a not-quite-human war machine, or wanting to protect humanity from them. 

I would say it’s a healthy mix of all that :D

In older games, there was this whole backstory snippet of him returning to earth, finding that the demons had invaded his planet but also killed his pet rabbit (Daisy), and he then goes onto a 2-game long revenge trip.Take that as you will.

The last thing i would like to mention is this post.

Please watch the video. Doomguy walks trough the rows of random human guards. This is the walk of a man who doesn’t owe them SHIT. Yes, he wants to save humanity. Yes, he cares. But he also knows who he is. He knows what he did, and what he will do. He doesn’t have to justify himself in front of these shady scientists and jerky guards.THEY owe HIM, in fact. This video emits the sheer CONFIDENCE of someone who has walked trough hell multiple times and knows none of these people could even touch him. Yes, he would never kill them. He would not harm humans. But he doesn’t care about making them uncomfortable with his presence, either. He doesnt ask for permission.

(i think by now i am using the exact same words they did in that post. really, its worth the read. i think there’s a lot of repeated things between this post and that post by now but i encourage you to watch that video. its worth it.)

Also, the impact he has on the people in this room! they trip. they walk backwards. they go quiet, stutter. they are intimidated. They know he’s technically here to help and save them, but now, standing in front of them.... just wow. it really puts things into perspective. it tells the player that all the demons that he’s killed, all that the doomslayer has done... its noted. it has an impact. 

I’m not really sure where i’m going with this anymore, but watching those NPCs react to the slayers presence just adds so much more to his character. it tells us how people see him, and boy.... do they see him. 

i think it also ties a lot into how the player is made feel, controlling doomguy. all these head stomping and limp tearing animations, the guns, people being scared, watching doomslayer destroy important equipment from first pirson or pushing open doors or whatever... it just gives me such an immense feeling of power! i can’t even describe it. (...it also has nothing to do anymore with the original question but holy shit did i love playing doom for the sheer atmosphere of it. despite me being horrible at playing.)

(at the end of this i’m realizing that all of this never addressed if doomslayer is happy and content murdering demons, or if he just wants his peace and quiet but can’t help himself every time he sees a demon. i would propose to leave that up to headcanons. mine is a mix of both but in a way that makes it not angsty. like he loves to have his calm moments, but is just as happy to rip some demon’s spine out. probably gets a little itchy and impatient if he hasn’t fought in a while.)

also if you’re interested in game design and way more professional people talking about why doom 2016 is great i reccomend this documentary

...anyways it’s past 1am and this has gotten way out of hand but

tl;dr: the doomslayer is metal as fuck, he has a lot of agenda he is following, and i love him so much

#amber talks #doom #where do i even begin with this? #i wanted to answer this in the morning but that was over an hour ago now #jdakjsdhasdjh i can't help myself theres so much to say about doom!!!! #you asked for this anon #it's just so... *clenches fist* #i forgot of course that the music is pretty much the best thing ever and i've been listening to it SO MUCH while writing litve #everything about this game is designed to make you feel powerful and HOLY SHIT is it working #id software did a great job #i watched a whole documentary on this it was great #...yeah i study 3d stuff this is pretty much in m #my field haha #i've just had all these feelings in me for months and now that someone showed the slightest hint of interest it's all coming out #sorry its so unorganized i tried to at least take one point after the other #now to write another essay on why the slayer and the mandalorian are very alike in some parts but mando is so much softer #(its because slayer has been trough hell and back while mando still has hope in the world) #(i mean mando is a jaded and tough bounty hunter but all that he is doomslayer is cranked up to eleven) #(shush now i said in another essay! go to bed) #(....its not gonna be an essay its gonna be a fanfic and its gonna be great) #(mando is such a softie......) #*pushes my mando/slayer agenda on my side blog as well* ah i see #long post #...very long post #hey i've hit 2k words with this! #....i've written litve chapters that are shorter #EDIT: WAIT FUCK I THINK I MIXED UP THE SECURITY GUARDS LINES WITH A FIC I READ ONCE #or did i gave EX that line in the last ask i answered???? #i'm??? im gonna go to sleep lol

[rushingheadlong]

3 and 6 for the writer's asks ❤

Thanks!! I just answered 6 so I’m just gonna copy and paste the same answer here:

6. What character do you have the most fun writing?

Probably Brian or Roger, tbh? They both give really great POVs for stories, though in vastly different ways, and it’s easier to find their voices for me than Freddie or John.

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

afsdlkfjakslfkakl GOD THERE ARE SO MANY OF THEM

I keep playing around with various ideas for a sequel to the corset fic that deal with more kink negotiation and relationship details... specifically that Brian really loves the corsets and wants to get more and possibly expand into using them publicly, and the reader is just “woah woah woah, let’s pump the brakes here and figure this out”. and then talk of balancing competing kink needs and wanting to wear the corsets out of scenes and a whole bunch of stuff like that? but that is so much to deal with and I do not have it in me to write another 20k corset fic at the moment.

The potential sequel to Haul Away, You Rolling Queens is going to need a lot of set-up for how exactly Brian’s and Freddie’s magic works, and tbh it’s set-up that needs to happen over one or two separate fics before we actually get into the proper sequel so I’ve put all of that on the backburner until I decide how I want to handle it. (The long and short of it is that I just need to flesh out the abilities that sirens have in this series, and then Brian’s defensive magic isn’t actually “defensive” it’s the ability to hold things together - that’s why his wards weren’t working in the beginning of the fic, but why he could enchant The Rhapsody and the raft during the storm. And there’s a specific scene I have in mind where Brian is working with other sea witches and they realize that that’s how his magic works, but it’s not a scene I can fit into the proper sequel so... *shrugs*)

I have a fic that I’ve been playing around with for months now that focuses on Brian immediately after having surgery to fix his ulcer, specifically dealing with the resulting scar and body image issues because of that? I’ve actually gotten quite a bit written for it too, but the problem I’ve now run into is that I have an opening section that I love but the bulk of the fic would need to take place a year later at Ridge Farm and I can’t be bothered to figure out how to bridge that gap in the timeline to actually make this work adlkfjaslkdlak (but here’s the beginning snippet that I’ve been sitting on for like the last year, in case that’s of interest to anyone)

Brian gets released from the hospital with a strict dietary plan and a bottle of vitamin E oil to massage into his surgical scar, and the uncomfortable feeling of being a stranger in his own body. He’s lucky to be alive, he knows that, just like he knows that this surgery was the only way to save his life - but he still has moments, when he looks down at his disfigured stomach, where he wonders why this is the price he had to pay. 

It’s not that it hurts anymore, although it certainly did at first. There were days in the beginning when even breathing would make Brian painfully aware of every stitch holding his stomach together, but that had faded until it only hurt when he laughed, and finally until it didn’t hurt at all. 

No, the problem is that it doesn’t feel like anything anymore. It’s a jagged slash of nothing, twisting from below Brian’s navel up to his solar plexus. He runs his fingertips over it, feeling every bump where his skin now puckers together, and there’s no sensation on his abdomen at all. It makes him feel light-headed and a little sick and sometimes, when he touches his scar, he thinks he’s not touching his own body at all. 

The doctors had told him to massage it to break down the scar tissue and help it heal smoother and Brian wants that, he really does, but touching this part of himself becomes something that he actively dreads. He doesn’t like feeling the rigid mass of scar tissue beneath his skin, and every time his thumb slips into a crevice that he can’t see his stomach lurches unpleasantly. He hates how it leaves his hands sore, his skin tacky with oil, his fingers twitching from the sensation of touching skin that should be smooth but never will be again. 

So Brian stops massaging the scar, and eventually stops touching it at all. He masters the art of getting dressed without looking at his stomach, and then changing his shirt without touching it at all. There’s no avoiding it when he showers but Brian is no stranger to hating his naked body and with enough mental preparation he can scrub himself down without wanting to scream. 

His bandmates are understanding, at least as much as they can be considering that Brian doesn’t let them see the scar and refuses to talk about it beyond, “It’s fine, it’s healing well.” 

(It’s not entirely a lie, because on the days when Brian can stand to look at his scar he can see the ways in which it is healing. It’s less red, less irritated, but it’s no less scarred and no less numb - and no amount of improvement makes Brian feel more at ease in his new body.)

The Sheer Heart Attack cover gets changed to partially-clothed, rather than fully shirtless, allowing Brian to show up fully dressed while the others debate how much skin they’re willing to reveal, shuffling out of shirts and undoing more and more buttons with an ease that Brian has never felt, and now knows that he’ll never feel again. 

“You sure this is what you want?” Mick asks as he adjusts his camera settings and the four of them pile into position. “More skin will sell more albums.”

“We’re sure,” Freddie says firmly. He gives Brian an encouraging wink before adding, “Besides, what about always leaving them wanting more?”

Brian gives Freddie a weak smile as Mick snorts and mutters, "Whatever you guys want."

And from there… it actually goes alright. 

Brian still tires far too easily, but it doesn’t take any effort to lie on the floor and make different faces as Mick snaps photo after photo of them. His scar still pulls uncomfortably when he goes to readjust his position, but it doesn’t hurt when Roger makes him laugh and that’s more than he had dared to hope for when he was still in the hospital. They wrap on the shoot and for the first time in a long time Brian thinks he might actually be okay.

“Hey, Bri, you wanna jon us for some drinks?” Roger asks as him, Freddie, and John get changed out of their now-wet clothes and Brian hovers awkwardly near them, refusing to change out of his shirt despite the fact that there’s now vaseline smeared around the neckline. 

Brian offers him a half-hearted smile and says, “Sorry, can’t. I’m still not supposed to have any alcohol.”

Between the damage that the hepatitis did to his liver and his still-delicate digestive system, Brian has been dry since the beginning of the summer. He’s never been a heavy drinker so he doesn’t mind, for the most part... but there are moments where he’s forced to interact with his scar and the wrongness of it all makes him feel outside of his own body, and he wishes then that he could get drunk - just a little, just enough to pretend that the haziness in his mind is because of the alcohol, and nothing else. 

“Shit, sorry, I forgot,” Roger says, and Brian shrugs in acknowledgment.

#long post // #askgame #fic talk #quirkysubject

[gascon-en-exil]

But What If You Want to Come Out on Vers Bottom?: A “Coming Out on Top” Review (Part 1)

A review quoted on this game’s website describes it as “the Citizen Kane of ripped, naked big-dicked dudes in love.” Incredibly narrow superlative notwithstanding, that’s some high praise. Does Coming Out on Top earn it?

(I also solemnly swear not to make a relevant innuendo involving rosebuds, because there’s enough dirty wordplay here without my input.)

It’s been a bit unusual for me to return to CooT, having played it when it first released in late 2014 and then only on and off since then as the game was regularly updated. I believe it’s actually the first proper dating sim I ever played - no, Fire Emblem’s Avatar romances do not count as far as I’m concerned - and it set a very high bar for quality that has unfortunately never quite been surpassed by other (gay) titles in the genre.

This is perhaps all the more remarkable in that the premise here is not the most original thing in the world: Mark Matthews (you can change his name at the start, but I’ll be going with this default masterwork of blandness) has just come out of the closet to his two roommates Penny and Ian at the start of his final semester at university, and the story plays out from there as he meets, dates, and potentially falls in love with a wide assortment of men while also balancing his studies and his relationships with the aforementioned roommates who also double as his friend group. That’s...basically it, and apart from the romance plotlines the rest of the game’s content feels fairly extraneous. Mark can’t flunk out before the end of the story no matter how much you neglect his grades (although his job prospects in the ending will improve if you do work on them), and for the most part whatever money he amasses or friendship bonding moments he has during his free time on the weekends only plays into whether you get friendship endings with Penny and/or Ian. Unlike Chess of Blades survival is usually a given in CooT, and while there are quite a few death endings sprinkled throughout the game’s content almost all of them are played for laughs (and sometimes Steam achievements, because why not).

No, there are three major selling points here independent of the excuse plot. First and perhaps most noticeably, the writing never takes itself too seriously and incorporates everything from silly banter to fourth wall-breaking (refuse to come out at the start of the game, for an early example) to the sort of understated pun work that makes Dream Daddy’s script apparently living off corny dad jokes all the more egregious by comparison. There’s even a fair amount of self-aware meta humor, in a game released several years before the likes of Doki Doki Literature Club! made that par for the course for dating sims.

Then there’s the sheer diversity of options on display in terms of storylines and how certain scenarios play out, including the third point which is, well...the raw, uncensored gay sex. Despite the innuendo of CooT’s title Mark is not a total top, and most of the game’s myriad sex scenes can go down in a variety of different ways depending on what Mark/the player expresses a preference for - including situations involving various types of kinks. There’s also a very limited degree of body customization available; in the options menu there are toggles for Mark and all of his (primary) sexual partners that give you the option to add facial and/or body hair to their portraits and CGs. The hair options aren’t gamebreaking by any means - for Mark it only allows him to switch between twunk and otter, and while there is some diversity in race, age, and body type among his love interests and hookups there’s still a notable number of muscled 20-somethings. Still, I do appreciate that the toggles are there. You’ll notice my own preferences for the guys in my screenshots.

Back to that other kind of variety though. With six primary love interests and numerous divergent paths for each of them - some good, some bad, and some hilariously strange - there’s a ton of content to work through in CooT. The pathing is set up so that you get the opportunity to meet almost all of the love interests before you’re asked to commit to one of their stories, something the game heavily telegraphs so you’ll never feel like you’ve been unknowingly pushed past a point of no return. These introductions are generally on the SFW side, but there are two chances for some rauchy fun even before you commit so let it not be said that this game has strictly enforced monogamy at all times. On that note, there’s also Brofinder.

Penny comically missing the point aside, Brofinder is an in-universe Grindr equivalent. It can be accessed if you decline to pursue any of the love interests, or more conveniently from the main menu independent of the story. Fittingly for the type of app it’s lampooning, Brofinder dates are disconnected vignettes that all, if done correctly, end in some hot NSA action but impact nothing else after you’ve completed them. There are ten of these, all added via progressive updates following the game’s initial release, and taken together they add substantially to the many ways in which Mark can get laid.

I should also mention the secret seventh joke “love interest,” but as that one has become a bit of a minor meme and will probably come up if you Google blindly about this game I’ll leave it at that.

...Yeah. Leaving it right there.

There are some places where the presentation of CooT falters, but nothing on the scale of the dodgy voice acting found in some of the other gay dating sims I’ve discussed - mostly because there is no voice acting. Aside from the CGs and the character portraits the artwork can be rather workmanlike and forgettable, and similarly almost all of the soundtrack I would liken to elevator music which might have inspired one of the Brofinder dates now that I think about it. The supporting cast on the whole also doesn’t get much opportunity to shine aside from Mark’s roommates, because the love interests’ stories are all unrelated to each other and as such the people around them can only be involved in one of the game’s plots. I’m tempted to sum this all up as weak worldbuilding, but let’s be honest here - all this game needs is the suggestion of a generic American university and surrounding town peopled mostly with archetypes (at times comedically memorable ones, granted) to give it sufficient background. Most actual porn gets away with far less than that.

When I did my review of Chess of Blades I was able to discuss each of its love interests in a single follow-up post, but CooT simply has too much going on for that. Therefore this review will have three additional parts: two covering the six primary love interests, and a third going more quickly over the Brofinder dates. At time of writing I don’t think I’m also going to be grading the sex scenes of how realistic they are like I did with CoB, because there are too many of them and nothing sticks out as egregiously as it does in that game. There will however be as much description for them as I can manage; that is the main selling point here, after all.

#Coming Out on Top

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Bad Vegetarian | Feeding Habits #1

Hey People of Earth!

As you can see from the title, not only do we have a new series of writing updates, we have a new series of writing updates for a whole new novel that was! not! supposed! to! happen!

For any of my friends who miss Moth Work (aka myself), guess who started writing a sequel literally no one asked. :)

I’ve had ideas for spinoff stories for Moth Work (as if MW wasn’t enough of a spinoff) and was peer pressured into starting this novel by @sarahkelsiwrites​ and I’m really happy about it! I have yet to come up with a title, but the moment I do, shall inform you, but for now, we’re calling this MW2!

This book (if it even ends up being a book) starts with chapter one, Bad Vegetarian. Unlike MW, MW2 starts in Lonan’s POV (not sure I’ll switch but I’m sure it’ll be inevitable), and I’m here for it!

I’ve been wanting to explore Lonan and Eliza’s relationship in more detail since having them come together in MW by complete fluke, and oh! is the tea piping!

This chapter really illustrates how truly dysfunctional this relationship is on both sides. Here’s a break down by scene:

Scene A:

Lonan is paint shopping with Eliza who has just gone vegetarian (which is the def the most normal thing she’s spontaneously done lately). Eliza feels like celebrating by painting their entire kitchen red.

Lonan particularly is drawn to blues, but since this ain’t what Eliza wants, they go with a brilliant red.

Scene B:

Lonan lines the kitchen with painter’s tape as Eliza bothers their neighbours for paint rollers, while trying to convince himself this relationship is still somewhat okay.

While doing this, he gets his weekly call from Unknown Woman who he’s been in contact with for the last few weeks. What for? We don’t know! They talk in code, and he realizes Unknown Woman’s situation is getting worse, and impromptu, tries to do something about it.

Scene C:

Lonan and Eliza bump into each other as he’s exiting the apartment and she’s entering, and have a short, strained conversation about why he’s leaving (she’s not aware of top secret phone calls that make this book feel lowkey like the old dystopians!)

Scene D:

Lonan attempts to drive to Unknown Woman but only knows she lives in Arizona (not great for directions lol). While in the car, he realizes it’s essentially impossible to get there without knowing where he’s going, and eventually gives up and heads home.

Scene E:

TW: blood

Lonan re-enters the apartment only to find Eliza “bleeding” in the kitchen. She’s actually just being wild and this “blood” is wall paint.

Scene F:

If we haven’t already seen the dysfunction, oh does it get worse! As Lonan and Eliza try to have a *moment* Eliza has a conversation by herself and gets a lil gaslighty.

Halfway through this, Lonan gets a phone call from Unknown Woman who we finally find out is his ex-girlfriend Glenne. Sounds like tea but he’s genuinely only helping her out of her toxic situation (which will be clarified later) though Eliza’s skeptical.

This chapter was a lot of fun to write! I wrote a majority of it today, and am really happy to have a *chill* project. While I love my other books (the three I am apparently now working on at once), it’s nice to have a place to dump my ideas with characters I know very well in situations I’m comfortable in whenever I feel like writing but don’t have tons of time/ideas/energy.

Excerpts:

Here are the opening three paragraphs! The first sentence sets up the POV a little weirdly, but I think it works with a later sentence that sort of mimics this “reminder” kind of style:

There are no rules, just remember, Eliza is vegetarian. She’s into earth tones, neutral tones, leafy greens, root vegetables. It’s all new. The day she announced her diet change, she also announced a desire to repaint the kitchen, to fit the new aura, to fit the new ethics, but she wants to paint the kitchen blood red, and Lonan is still a meat-eater. He reminds himself: there are no rules, just remember, Eliza is vegetarian.

In the hardware store he thumbs paint chips. They’re set up in an array, almost like checkers, dissolving in a gradient from reds to purples. Eliza wants red, “Not necessarily earthy, but the root of organism, of life,” so Lonan looks at the blues. They’re all a variant of a seaside theme—Sea Breeze, a cloud-like blue, Beach Umbrella, a wispy aqua, Seafoam Serenade, muted like the soft side of a turquoise. Repainting the kitchen matters little to him, and so do the blues, but the red section, devilish, makes him shuffle his blue deck faster.

Radio from the store’s intercom tins through the speakers, dampened by the hustle of carts, the thud of bodies against the concrete flooring. He holds many cards up to the light, Secret Getaway and Parisian Summer almost the exact shade, but still he flicks through, until half the pile is indistinguishable, and the other half are blues he likes and not reds, like Eliza’s asked.

The next excerpt sort of highlights the last six months of Lonan’s life as he’s been on this whirlwind of keeping up with all the things Eliza has tried. I have added kudzu pudding and other kudzu food just for my pals @sarahkelsiwrites​ and @shaelinwrites​ (rlly want kudzu pudding):

Her sudden vegetarianism is not confusing to him. Eliza tries new things all the time, something he’s learned after living with her for half a year. One time, she brought home four different kinds of dried beans to make into tea, and together they drank it atop the balcony, the Vegas strip across them somehow tasting better. One time, they ate a variety of kudzu foods for a week because Eliza said invasive species had to be killed somehow, and so they spooned kudzu pudding into their mouths, kudzu root powder into their water, kudzu salads with salted almonds. One time, she put them on a warmth ban, and they ate only frozen peas, potatoes, raspberries, turned the thermostat down until every surface crackled. She liked the feeling of subtle frost on the countertops, how it jolted her when she touched it accidentally in the morning. He found her many mornings awake before him, transfixed to the table with both palms soldered to its surface, like she’d forgotten she wasn’t a part of it. One time, she paid to have the furniture in the house rearranged, not good enough for her spirit, and then reverted it two days later. “The couch doesn’t like being so close to the refrigerator,” and he could’ve asked “did you ask it?” but said, “Understandable. It shouldn’t be forced to catch a draft.” So her vegetarianism is normal. Already, she’s switched their meat supply to beetroots, chickpeas, tofu she rips apart bare-handed. For the last three mornings, they’ve both taken a shot of spinach and gingerroot, a liquid that burns to make you feel alive, as if you weren’t already.

The next excerpts kind of surprised me with their amount of humour! Not something I expect from Lonan, but I’m glad he has some sass back lol (CW: some upsetting animal imagery):

There is nothing wrong in this relationship. Everything is Eliza’s new favourite adjective—stunning. Everything is scrubbed with kitchen bleach, glittering like a plasticky pool float in the shallow end, stunning. Everything is planned, put in a calendar, a notebook, a flitter of receipts, but always planned, stunning. Everything is better, even better than better, a better that can only be described as stunning.

Lonan uses this word frequently now, rolling out a strip of blue painter’s tape and trying to find different ways it stuns. Sticks when he sticks, peels when he peels, keeps its edge when it needs to keep its edge, so it’s stunning. The bubble television is turned onto a channel about sheep, and as he lines the baseboards, outlets, catches glances of a sheer buzzing against skin, sometimes a hunting knife slicing until there’s blood. 

Eliza is asking a neighbour for paint rollers because they bought four cans of wall paint, two paint trays, a box of garbage bags, three rolls of painter’s tape, and a small paintbrush each for both of them but forgot the rollers. Stunning.

The following excerpt highlights that Lonan has a cellphone! Is Fostered just a bizarre alternate reality of a time period that doesn’t exist? Perhaps! (CW: some upsetting animal imagery):

Today, they’ll prime the cabinets, the walls, and tomorrow, scroll a coat of red onto both. The kitchen will look more like the inside of an anatomical heart, the sinks and drawers like ventricles, but this is Eliza’s vision—her tastes come alive.

The sheep are being herded by a collie. As Lonan rips another strip of tape with his teeth, he stares at the screen mounted in the corner, at the almost-naked sheep dashing across a field. How many will be slaughtered, he doesn’t know. The narrator must’ve said that, but there is no plan, really, for death. Even for sheep.

He kneels toward the kitchen vent, the tape roll linked around his wrist, and smooths a line of tape down. Eliza doesn’t want to paint the vent—it wouldn’t complete her vision—and so it will remain the original wall colour, a square of cream so worn, it’s almost grey.

Here we have some hints at Eliza’s weirdness:

He straightens and looks at her. She’s bundled in her fur coat even though she has always insisted she’s good at even Vegas’ warm winter. Since going vegetarian, she’s insisted it’s fake, even though he’s read the lining tag—100% mink. He doesn’t know why she’s needed her coat when she’s only walked up a few flights of stairs but doesn’t care to ask.

She approaches him with her thumb out, and when that thumb presses into his eye socket, he flinches.

“What happened here?” she smooths the dip of his under eyes, her fingertips cold. He smells her perfume, different today, always different, a smell like cloves and lavender. “Are you sleeping?” She presses onto her toes, examines the other side, and her frown deepens. “This doesn’t look like eight hours.”

“I’m sleeping,” he says, though they both know this is a lie. It’s taken her two weeks to notice.

“I can run to the pharmacy,” she says. “If you need a refill.”

“I’m sleeping.”

“I didn’t notice this morning—I would’ve given you another energy shot.”

Here’s a line I like because of a) skin and b) sun:

Lonan goes nowhere. This is not his plan. Asphalt whips under the skin of each tire, the setting sun wringing him blind. 

Fully sharing this for the verb zags (and also because I accidentally roast cities tho I love them I am one of these blink-less people):

He doesn’t know where he’s going. Arizona is the only thing he knows about her, doesn’t know if she lives in an apartment, a duplex, a house—fully detached, semi-detached. As he pulls into a residential neighbourhood somewhere along the vague line he’s drawn on the map from Las Vegas to Arizona, he watches for all these options. In the distance, a jogger zags across the street with her golden retriever, children play basketball on a driveway, still in their school uniforms, another woman clips the wilted stems off a magnolia bush. 

It’s when he gets closer to the apartments that the sameness is noticeable. High-rises with pearlescent windows that go pinkish in the sunset—all of them identical. Each building evenly spaced, more like a board game than a place to live. Even the space around each building is the same—the same rose hedges, the same iron fence, the same people bustling in and out, all wearing some variation of the same pantsuit, all holding some other hand—child, partner, lover. The same haircuts, smiles, eyes like marbles, as if there’s a store somewhere that sells copies, a catalogue for eyes that don’t blink. He’s been looking into the sun for too long, there must be a difference, but the longer he looks, the more indistinguishable they become.

To get out of explaining where he wants to go when he and Eliza bump into each other, Lonan says he’s visiting his sister (Reeve), and because she’s iconic and must make an appearance, here’s a line ft. our queen:

He could make the lie true. Reeve is somewhere in the country, he imagines, dancing in a faceless city, living in a motel room, tipping everyone well. 

(^^ all true)

Here we have Lonan identifying with the animals more than anything else for the second time in one chapter (TW for more blood imagery):

Lonan hooks the car keys onto the lanyard by the front door and slings his coat across the couch. The television is set to the same channel as before, though the program has switched from sheep slaughter to birdwatching. On screen, a heron perches by a riverbed, opalescent in the sunshine.

“Did you hurt yourself?” he asks, the heron now frisking up the white bark of a tree. He glances at the fluorescent red dripping between her fingers, pattering against the tile.

“I was opening the paint cans.”

“With a kitchen knife?”

He gestures to the blade on the counter, blood-free, newly sharpened.

“It’s all I had on hand.” She pulls her wrist closer to her, runs her index finger along the injured area.

“It’s clean.”

“I washed it, Lonan.”

This next one has some blood imagery so TW for that!

The heron has moved closer to the riverbed. It watches the water knowingly, its subtle simmer of movement, and after a moment of watching, strikes its beak down so it spears a trout. He misses the part where it eats. Eliza’s clicked off the TV from behind him.

She slams the remote onto the counter so hard, its back clatters off and onto the tile. “I cut my arm with a kitchen knife while opening paint cans. It happens.”

“I don’t see a cut.”

“Why would I make that up?”

“I don’t see a cut.”

She walks toward him. He expects her to shove her wrist in his face, but she doesn’t. She just holds it, some of the blood fluorescing pink, splashes onto her toes.

“You got to see your sister?” she asks.

“She cancelled.”

Eliza clucks her tongue, examining her wrist, and then she extends her arm, revealing the full patch of pale skin gone red.

Lonan takes it, and with his fingernail carves a line through the red to reveal the healthy patch of skin, painted, uncut.

And finally, here’s the last line of this excerpt that essentially explains where the title comes from ft. predator VS prey symbolism:

He’s reminded once more of the heron, how it plunged into the riverbed with ease, and the trout dangling in its beak, its commitment to life most fervent the moment before being consumed. 

So that’s going to be it for this update! I don’t know how frequently I’ll be writing this, but it’s been a lot of fun so far. I’m excited to explore more relationships I haven’t turned over in a while as a little side project while I do other things! Hope y’all enjoyed!

--Rachel

#writing #amwriting #writeblr #writerblr #writingupdates #mothwork #fostered #feedinghabits

[strawberry-skies-xx]

you wingless thing

C H A P T E R   F I V E

tags: rape/non-con, dead dove: do not eat, geralt / jaskier, original female character, original male character, angst with a happy ending, angst, angst and feels, rape, past rape/non-con, implied/referenced rape/non-con, implied/referenced abuse, emotional hurt/comfort, psychological abuse, emotional abuse, emotionally repressed, fae jaskier, fae magic, hurt jaskier, torture, revenge, past torture, hurt/comfort, past abuse, jaskier whump, feral jaskier, creature jaskier, inhuman jaskier, eventual happy ending, love confessions, idiots in love, wing kink, homoerotic wing grooming

author’s note: scheduled mondays, wednesdays, and fridays

main masterlist | story on ao3 | next chapter >>

Geralt wakes up on something soft, with golden light shining in his eyes as he slowly opens them. He’s met with a four-poster bed, covered in lavish blankets and furs, and the rest of the room is the same way. It’s all very luxurious and smells almost sickeningly like flowers - Geralt wonders why the nobility like their floral perfumes so much, because he doesn’t seem to be in immediate danger, but rather like he’s being pampered. Normally, that thought would make him even warier than before, but he’s at the mercy of a manipulative sorceress and he won’t waste energy on worrying unless it becomes something he needs to worry about.

He slides out of the bed, and it’s then that he notices Jaskier isn’t here - which, fuck his plan about not worrying, that makes his heart rate speed up and adrenaline and fear course through his body at an almost dizzying rate. His eyes dart around as he takes true stock of his surroundings - he can’t see his swords, there’s two side doorways that he assumes leads to a closet and a bath, as well as a front door to the room that’s simple oak wood. The posts of the bed he supposes can be easily broken off and used as an impromptu weapon, though the vase sitting on the table in the corner is much more reliable than depending on whether he can break off the bedpost with sheer strength.

Geralt scans the room and finds nothing else, but his frantic energy doesn’t subside and he searches the room. The front door is locked, the closet is empty save for a few clothes that look like they were picked for him, and the bath is, for some reason, decked out with an array of expensive soaps and fragrant oils. Geralt searches the drawers and tables and finds absolutely nothing - the contents of this room are an outrageous amount of furs and blankets, an equally absurd amount of soaps and oils, a few clothes, a vase, a lamp, and nothing more. Geralt ends up standing in the middle of the room after his search, frustrated and worried and more than slightly panicking as he wonders where Nyla took Jaskier.

It’s not that he’ll be able to do anything against Nyla in his current unarmed state, but he’d at least like to know where the fae is. He wants to know whether Nyla is hurting him, and if she is, just how much pain he is going to have to inflict on her once they’re out of this contract. No one hurts Jaskier and gets away with it as long as Geralt’s concerned, not even a sorceress who’s under the guise of helping them.

The lock clicks and Geralt’s eyes snap to the door, hyper-focusing as his senses go on high alert trying to sense who’s coming. Part of him wants to tense up, and the other wants to stay relaxed in case it’s Jaskier on the other side of that door.

There’s a flash of gold, white feathers, and pale skin, and Geralt finds himself rushing forward faster than he wanted, stepping close to Jaskier as he enters and shuts the door behind him. Geralt is too focused on Jaskier to protest as the lock clicks closed and they’re trapped together in the room.

“Fuck,” Jaskier says eloquently, leaning back against the wall. He’s dressed in a sheer gold dress with slits in the back for his wings - it’s the first time he’s worn an outfit other than his sapphire doublet and trousers and occasionally one of Geralt’s shirts because they’re loose enough to go over his wings without hurting them. Jaskier’s arms and wings both wrap around himself, and Geralt prevents himself from touching, letting Jaskier have his space despite how much he wants to hold him tight and close. He stands awkwardly in front of him, concerned but having no idea what to do as Jaskier shivers and meets Geralt’s eyes.

“What did she do?” Geralt asks, as restrained as he can manage.

Jaskier glances down and shakes his head, brow furrowing. “Nothing. She… she didn’t do anything. She made me have dinner with her and then just, let me go.” He swallows and takes a breath. “I wandered around for a few hours, but they wouldn’t let me go near your room until just now when they practically forced me into it. Not that I’m complaining, by the way,” he adds hurriedly at the way Geralt deflates just slightly.

Geralt frowns. “You think she won’t hurt us at all?”

Jaskier pushes off the wall and walks past Geralt, who turns to watch him make his own search of the room as he talks.

“No, she is definitely planning on hurting us,” he says. “Well, me actually. She didn’t seem interested in you at all.”

Geralt hums. That is not ideal - he’d rather Nyla hurt him than Jaskier, but that’s the whole point, isn’t it? If she hurts Jaskier, she hurts Geralt and she doesn’t even need to figure out how to get past a Witcher’s physical pain tolerance enough for true torture. Emotional and mental pain is just as damaging as physical, but Geralt has nowhere near the tolerance for those. It scares him how easily he can be hurt just by imagining Jaskier being hurt, but he doesn’t regret it at all. He would not trade this pain for not loving Jaskier in any lifetime.

And - that’s what it is, Geralt knows. Love. He may be emotionally repressed, but it doesn’t mean he can’t identify his feelings before he represses them, and love is not one that he can shove down, especially for someone who shines as bright and beautiful as Jaskier. Which, is both a blessing and a curse, because it makes his entire life brighter when Jaskier is around, but he knows the fae doesn’t love him back and he will have to deal with heartbreak when Jaskier eventually leaves.

Well, Geralt thinks, he can’t say he doesn’t understand Jaskier’s songs about love and heartbreak anymore.

Jaskier opens the closet and frowns, pulling out one of the black shirts meant for Geralt. “Did she only give clothes for you? Really? I’m expected to wear this dress - which, is quite beautiful but given that a manipulative sorceress has given it to me, I don’t much like it - to bed?” He looks down at the offending outfit, pulling on his sleeve as he talks. “Because first off, the material is scratchy, honestly, who makes a dress with such awful material? And second off, I’m practically naked - this is so sheer and loose that it’ll ride up on me at night.”

Geralt walks over and takes the shirt from him, a smirk playing on his lips. “Maybe that isn’t such a bad thing,” he says, putting the shirt back on its hanger and hooking it in the closet.

Jaskier’s mouth drops open and his eyes track Geralt as the Witcher walks over to the far side of the bed and pulls off his shirt. “Geralt,” he breathes, mock-scandalized, “are you insinuating you’d rather me sleep next to you with no clothes?”

Geralt shrugs nonchalantly. “Unless you’d rather sleep ‘practically naked’ on the floor.” He lays on the bed and pulls the covers over him, smirking at Jaskier’s shocked face.

Jaskier composes himself, mouth closing suddenly, and now he’s the one smirking, which makes Geralt quickly regret his actions as Jaskier strips off the dress and lays next to him in nothing but his smallclothes.

Fuck.

They’d never slept together with anything less than a shirt and trousers on, and Geralt has to hide his body’s natural reaction to the fae’s long, lithe body pressed against him - now so much closer and intimate than usual. It’s everything he’s wished for, both a blessing and a curse because Jaskier knows exactly what he’s doing to him, but he also doesn’t know the stab of pain he gives Geralt at the thought of this starting his last month of having Jaskier with him.

Jaskier smirks up at Geralt. “You asked for this, remember that.”

Geralt mentally curses himself again, and doesn’t get to sleep that night.

The dreams start three days after.

Geralt wakes to Jaskier twitching next to him the first time, his usually peaceful face contorted in confusion and fear rolling off of him in waves, the acrid scent stronger than Geralt has ever smelled it from Jaskier.

“Jaskier?” he asks softly, but still firm. He gets no response other than a soft whimper, and he leans up on his elbow, watching as Jaskier starts twisting and turning wildly, repeating a string of no and don’t and something Geralt can’t make out. He frowns, unsure what to do, but seeing Jaskier’s distress has his whole body tensing and adrenaline starting to run through it as Geralt slightly panics, wanting to help Jaskier but having no idea how to do it. He had helped Lambert with his nightmares at Kaer Morhen during the trials when he was young, helped by Eskel, but that was so long ago that Geralt doesn’t remember how he did it, and Jaskier isn’t quite the same as Lambert.

Geralt watches Jaskier’s hand hit hard on the headboard and winces. He decides to help by moving forward, avoiding getting hit by the fae’s flailing wings and other limbs as he pins Jaskier down, not wanting him to hurt himself, and tries to shake him awake while keeping him mostly still. Jaskier only struggles, twisting and crying out beneath Geralt. His voice is full of so much pain and fear that Geralt lets him go, pushing himself back so fast that he almost falls off the bed, eyes wide. He never wants to hear Jaskier sound like that because of him - and he knows it wasn’t really him, but it was close enough that the fear still paralyzes Geralt as he watches the fae writhe in the sheets.

“Geralt,” he says, voice rough and harsh and panicked, and Geralt inhales sharply. Jaskier’s breathing starts to increase, fast enough that Geralt knows it’s unhealthy, and he surges forward, half-pinning and half-shaking Jaskier hard enough to make his eyes snap open and his breathing stutter, coming too fast and too sharp for several tense moments until it slowly evens out. Jaskier breathes slowly in and out, and the frantic, rabbit-fast thudding of his heart echoes in Geralt’s ears.

“Jaskier,” Geralt says roughly, half relief and half question. The fae’s blue eyes flick to him briefly before focusing on the sheets. Geralt waits, hands holding Jaskier’s arms as he sits up, until he seems calm enough that Geralt releases his arms, sitting back on his heels and using his unerring focus to track every small movement Jaskier makes.

“I’m fine,” he says dismissively, despite the way his heartbeat is not quite slowed completely down and fear still lightly stings Geralt’s senses. “Just… just a nightmare.”

Geralt frowns. “You haven’t had those since I rescued you.”

There was more than one time that Geralt woke to Jaskier’s screams and pleads of no and stop and don’t, and he couldn’t do anything because Jaskier was dreaming of a man’s hands on him, and he would only make it worse. Erynd did things to Jaskier that Geralt still wanted to kill him for - kill him slowly, and painfully, over the course of several days. Geralt had to sit by during these nightmares, listening to Jaskier’s rabbit-fast heartbeat thud in his ears and the acrid scent of fear flooding the air, and committing both the sound and smell to memory as something in his own nightmares.

Jaskier gives a dry, bitter laugh. “Guess noble mansions don’t have good memories tied to them.”

Geralt hums and glances down, pausing for a moment, before he speaks quietly. “Are you okay?”

Jaskier closes his eyes, breathing evenly, heart rate brought back down to normal, but his scent is still tinged with fear and Geralt wonders what the nightmare was about that made him so scared. Not even the nightmares he had about Erynd were this bad, and he wants to be able to comfort Jaskier through it, but he doesn’t know how. This is different than the ones about Erynd, and he doesn’t know what’s expected of him here. Geralt supposes he has to settle for letting Jaskier work through it himself, though it hurts him to do so.

Jaskier nods slowly. “Yeah. I’m-“ he laughs bitterly, “I’m as good as I can be.”

Geralt lays down on his back, golden eyes tracking Jaskier, senses attuned to every small signal he gives off whether in scent, body language, or his own magic, which drifts around them, still trapped and dormant. Jaskier looks back at Geralt, pausing before laying down next to him and-

Geralt freezes as Jaskier lays his head on his chest, warm breath fanning lightly over his skin. They’ve never slept this close even when they were camping on cold nights, and Geralt is afraid that he’ll somehow break this fragile trust Jaskier has put in him. He feels the fae relax, long fingers tracing small circles on his chest in repetitive, soothing motions, and Geralt finds himself relaxing in response to the pattern, reflexively focusing on it. He brings his arm around to wrap around Jaskier’s back, starting his own pattern with his thumb, rubbing the spot between Jaskier’s wings.

Jaskier shivers slightly and lets out a soft sigh of contentment, sagging further into him. Geralt waits, not falling asleep quite yet, the images of Jaskier writhing on the bed and the echo of his name being said so brokenly by the fae playing in his mind. Eventually, though, he feels the exact moment several minutes later when Jaskier slips into sleep, breathing evening out and body falling soft against Geralt’s chest.

Despite himself, Geralt falls asleep soon after, and neither of them dream for the rest of the night.

next chapter >>

#the witcher netflix #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier

[the-desolated-quill]

A Stronger Loving World - Watchmen blog

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. if you haven’t read this comic yet, you may want to before reading this review)

When people read Watchmen for the first time, I’d be surprised if any of them expected the story to end like this.

A Stronger Loving World opens with the aftermath of the fake alien arriving in New York and slaughtering millions. Three splash pages of harrowing artwork by Dave Gibbons. Corpses littered everywhere. Blood in the streets. Giant tentacles wrapped around various landmarks. It’s an extremely unsettling opening and lets the reader know that Gibbons and Alan Moore are not fucking around here. Doctor Manhattan and Laurie arrive to see the carnage and deduce that Adrian was behind it before heading to Antarctica to confront him. After several confrontations involving Manhattan getting disintegrated again and Laurie pulling a gun on Adrian, it’s revealed that Ozymandias’ plan has worked. The nations of the world have put aside their differences and decided to cooperate for fear of an impending alien invasion.

This then leads to the big moral dilemma. What Adrian has done is despicable, but he has succeeded in bringing about world peace, and revealing the truth behind the giant squid runs the risk of dooming the world all over again. So what would be the heroic thing to do?

Well there’s no point asking these characters because as the graphic novel has been emphasising again and again, these guys are not heroes.

This is an extremely complicated moral conundrum with no real right or wrong answer, and I very much appreciate how Alan Moore doesn’t try to shove one down our throats. I also like how each character comes to their decision. Doctor Manhattan is of course a godlike being who sees beyond our world and so shares a somewhat similar view to Adrian’s. That the deaths were justified because the end result is peace. Rorschach on the other hand cannot square what just happened with his own rigid morality, and refuses to keep the secret, vowing to tell everyone the truth, which leads to Manhattan killing him. Nite Owl meanwhile, being weak willed and pathetic as ever, decides to go along with Adrian’s plan, but it’s less to do with him agreeing with Adrian and more to do with the fact that the moral implications are so hard to comprehend that he doesn’t even want to try, instead taking the path of least resistance. Finally Silk Spectre, so shocked by everything she’s learned and witnessed, clings to the one stable thing she has. Dan. The two then have sex, serving as a dark inverse of the sex scene in A Brother To Dragons. In both instances, sex is used as a metaphor for power, but whereas the motivation in the first was Dan overcoming his own inadequacies, the second is both Dan and Laurie desperately trying to retain whatever shred of power and independence they have left after such a shocking and twisted act of mass murder.

It’s great because it demonstrates just how well Moore understands his own characters and how well we’ve come to know them. They behave exactly as we would expect them to and there’s something oddly satisfying about that despite the moral ambiguity of their decisions.

In fact lets discuss Rorschach for a bit, considering he’s the only one that refused to keep the secret. Bit surprising considering the horrid things he’s done throughout the graphic novel. What’s so different about this? Well it could be the sheer scale of it. Could be that he didn’t believe those who died truly deserved it according to his own strict moral code. Except I’m not entirely convinced. In the extra material provided in The Abyss Gazes Also, there’s a letter written by a young Walter Kovacs about his father. Or rather the person he imagines his father to be because he never actually met him. Apparently his parents split up because ‘he liked President Truman and she didn’t.’ Interesting in and of itself that Rorschach, a right wing bigot, was fathered by a Democrat. But wait, it gets more intriguing. He then goes on to write about how he believes his father was an aide to President Truman before talking about the events of Hiroshima and Nagasaki when the US dropped atomic bombs, killing millions. Except here he expresses that he believes that Truman did the right thing because it ended the war and saved millions more lives. Curious, wouldn’t you agree? So, in Rorschach’s mind, what made the nukes in Japan morally justifiable while Adrian’s giant squid in New York wasn’t? We can only really speculate at this point. Some think it’s because Rorschach has realised that there is no place for him in Adrian’s new world order, which I guess is kind of true, but I think it runs the risk of romanticising the character again. It could be that the nukes were a last resort whereas the squid was preemptive... maybe? Personally I think it’s just good old fashioned racism. Rorschach had no issue with the millions of Japanese lives lost because they were Japanese. The enemy. This is different. This time millions of American lives have been lost. To him, this is more than just mass murder. It’s an act of treason.

We may never fully know the reasons behind Rorschach’s actions, but it’s nonetheless interesting to discuss.

I also appreciated that we do get a moment where Adrian questions whether he did the right thing, expressing his doubts to Doctor Manhattan, to which he receives a cryptic response about how ‘nothing ever ends.’ (does Manhattan know what happens in the future? We’ll never know). It’s a nice moment that helps to humanise Adrian a little bit and remind us that he’s as flawed as all the other characters. The arrogant bravado he displays when he succeeds in achieving world peace could easily have slipped into pantomime villain territory if there wasn’t just this small moment near the end, possibly as the scale of the things he’s done dawns on him. Like the pirate captain in The Tales Of The Black Freighter, Adrian means well and his intentions are noble, but his actions are either highly questionable or just downright villainous. This is basically what Watchmen has been talking about since the start. Once you start taking more frequent steps outside the bounds of what is legally and morally acceptable, it’s not long before you’ve effectively joined the criminals yourself.

There’s a lot to like about A Stronger Loving World, however I do have a few complaints here and there. Yes, lets talk about that giant squid.

If there was ever a moment where Watchmen jumped the shark, this is it. And quite frankly I have no idea what Alan Moore was thinking at the time. So Adrian wants to unite the world together using an outside force that will encourage everyone to put aside their differences and team up with each other. Okay. Makes sense so far. But the plan itself requires so many leaps of logic, it kind of loses all credibility. Take for example the idea that it was cloned from a psychic’s brain. Well that came out of nowhere, didn’t it? Yes this is a world where a giant naked blue guy can manipulate atoms, but the story explained to us how this was possible, allowing us to suspend our disbelief. Now suddenly we’re supposed to believe that human psychics exist with no build up whatsoever. It’s just dumped on us, which makes it feel more like a convenient excuse than an explanation. Yes they do kind of foreshadow it with Adrian’s pet lynx Bubastis, but it’s a bit of a leap, isn’t it? It’s one thing to genetically alter an existing animal. It’s another thing entirely to create an all new creature with psychic abilities as though this was Build-A-Bear Workshop.

Not to mention, in order to explain how in God’s name someone can go from inventing electric cars to creating aliens, Alan Moore has to resort to a gigantic infodump in order to make sense of the bloody thing. The initial teleport incinerates people, then the psychic ‘death throes’ or whatever cause others to go mad and start killing each other, and then those even further away have bad dreams or something. Presumably the person furthest from ground zero probably has a moment where they forget where they put their car keys and leave the gas on. It’s just overly complicated and way too daft.

Also I can understand Adrian kidnapping scientists, but why artists and writers? And why tell them the creature is for a movie? Was no one a tiny bit suspicious of the amount of work, resources and effort being put into this supposed ‘special effect’? What about the fact that they were taken from their homes and put on a tiny island? Don’t they have families? Are any of them concerned about how ridiculously secretive this film production is? And more to the point, why let the rest of the world believe them to be kidnapped? If you’re going to go with the Hollywood movie cover story, why not just tell people that’s what they’re doing? I guess you could argue that Adrian was concerned this would draw unwanted attention to his plan, but... what?... them getting kidnapped wouldn’t have drawn attention?!

And then there’s just the sheer randomness of it. Why aliens? He doesn’t even plant the seeds for this anywhere. Maybe have some fake UFO sightings or something. He just dumps a dead alien on New York’s doorstep. Also, if genetic engineering is common knowledge, why would people assume it’s aliens? Surely government scientists testing the thing will discover it’s of terrestrial origin. Which leads to the biggest flaw. Would this plan really have worked? Killing millions of people in one city? Would that be enough to unite the world? Perhaps in the short term, but there’s no way you could possibly sustain that lie for so long. Plus, call me cynical, but considering how quickly Russia mobilised when Manhattan left the planet, surely it’s more likely they would take advantage of the situation while America was reeling from this act of carnage. If Adrian is supposed to be the smartest man in the world, I’m amazed he didn’t consider any of this. Maybe he has contingency plans in place, but I don’t know. It all seemed pretty final to me. He genuinely believes that this will fix everything. It just makes him look a bit stupid.

The whole giant squid plot has got more holes in it than a colander. Which is why (and I know I’m going to get some flak for this) I much prefer the version in Zack Snyder’s adaptation than I do the graphic novel. I don’t want to go into too much detail because I’d rather save that for when I review the movie, but I do honestly think Adrian’s plan in the movie makes more sense than the source material does.

Another side effect of having to explain the alien is that Silk Spectre’s story never gets proper closure. There’s a moment where Laurie confronts her mother over the fact that the Comedian is her father, but it all just feels a bit rushed and unsatisfactory. Especially when she starts talking about wanting to change her costume and start using guns, implying she’s going to be more like the Comedian in the future. It’s just too big of a leap in my opinion. One minute she’s distraught that her father was her mother’s rapist, the next she’s following in his footsteps. It’s such a sharp turn, it practically gave me whiplash.

That being said, I did like the little detail of Dan taking Sally Jupiter’s porn magazine, which I think implies how superficial their relationship is. They’re together because of the power and sexual rush they feel in their superhero identities, not because they actually love each other. Maybe that was what drew Sally to the Comedian despite everything he did. Who knows?

I also really like the ending. I haven’t been talking about the New Frontiersman in these reviews because it’s largely been inconsequential up until now, which is kind of the point. Seymour, a downtrodden, inconsequential man working a soul sucking job at a right wing newspaper, is suddenly given the power to change everything. Will he reveal the contents of Rorschach’s journal and thus expose Adrian’s plan or keep quiet in the name of peace? I want to believe it would be the latter, but considering his livelihood depends on his racist editor having material to rant and complain about, it would seem the world is truly doomed. 

As Doctor Manhattan said, ‘nothing ever ends.’

Hey guys! Thank you so much for reading these blogs. It took longer than I thought to write them, but honestly I think it was worth the extra time because there is just so much about Watchmen to unpack and I really enjoyed analysing this story. I’ve been wanting to review Watchmen for ages now and I’m very proud how these have turned out. I personally think it’s some of the best stuff I’ve ever written. Next I’m going to be reviewing the movie adaptation directed by Zack Snyder and then after that the HBO TV series. In the mean time, please feel free to like and reblog and share your own thoughts and feelings about Watchmen. Which character did you find most interesting? Do you think Adrian did the right thing? What would you do in Seymour’s shoes if you found Rorschach’s journal and discovered the truth about the giant alien squid? I’m genuinely curious :)

#a stronger loving world #watchmen #alan moore #dave gibbons #dc comics #review #spoilers

[maggotmouth]

     hullo it nora, back for more mess. this unhinged little nightmare is cecily who i first birthed around 3 years ago and i am so excited to finally be playing her again. feral wolf girl who loves silk babydoll dresses and bubblegum but would also cut your femoral artery if she was bored. is the eptome of that “somethin dangerous about the boredom of teenage girls” trope. amma crellin meets harley quinn meets addy hanlon.  ( pinterest )

APP.

( nora. 22. gmt. she / her. ) it might be HER FRESHMAN year but I still think CECILY DE ROSA looks exactly like FREYA MAVOR and sometimes I think the FEMALE is actually them. Of course I’m wrong, as they’re 19 and studying THEATRE while living in FIDELIS here at Lockwood. The GEMINI can be rather PUCKISH and CANDID, but also kind of SELF-CENTRED and HYSTERICAL. Their most played song on Spotify was CELL BLOCK TANGO by CATHERINE ZETA JONES AND THE COMPANY OF CHICAGO, so I think that says a lot.

BACKGROUND.

tw death suicide murder proceed w caution

born as ‘lamia romana’ in italy to catholic parents. her father was a struggling alcoholic and incredibly depressed. when cece was 4, and her brother was 3 her father fed the gas pipe through the back of their car whilst they prepared to go on their family holiday because he knew suicide would leave his wife and children penniless so he decided the most selfless thing would be to take them with him

cecily (lamia) and her brother luc by some miracle survived the accident, but were left orphaned. they were sent to a convent where they were raised by nuns. cece was incredibly religious. it became her whole life. she was devoted to god completely, almost crazed, because in the absence of parents she transferred the need for a guider and protector onto this spiritual other evoked by her religious beliefs.

she always had a strained relationship w her brother because she believed he wasn’t as devoted to catholicism as she was. when she was 13 he claimed that god wasn’t real and that she was a freak, and in a violent rage cecily thrust a crucifix through his throat. it was completely out of character for her. she screamed until her throat went dry. eventually,  when the nuns managed to tear her away from her brother’s body, she was taken to a psychiatric hospital in manhattan where she stayed for two years. driven to madness, she convinced herself that she had been possessed by the devil the moment she killed her brother, and soon she began to accept her fate, as not holy, like she had anticipated, but in fact it’s ungoldy antithesis

when she was released, she was adopted by an american distant aunt and uncle and sent to a manhattan boarding school under the new name ‘cecily de rosa’. see also: st. trinnians. lifted of any religious obligation, cecily grew wild. she delighted in acting up, cheeking her superiors, causing havoc and chaos, terrifying the other girls. sex became her weapon – she would seduce the boys from the local comprehensive and drop them like flies. to her, it was merely a game. 

uses sex as a weapon, a way in which to manipulate men, having filmed sexual liasons with both a former acting coach and a TA to use for the purposes of blackmail. 

 her expulsion from school was threatened after she streaked the school naked and doused in pig blood, but her academic prowess was an asset to the school, so they learnt to put up with her antics. she applied for yale but didn’t get in.

 she atended juliard for a year but was thrown out for indecency

theatre-wise, one of Cecily’s most commendable traits is her sheer tenacity and lack of inhibition – she is willing to do whatever it takes to climb to the top, and kick as many other people down as necessary on her way there. tthis unhinged hunger for success was evidenced when, in her breakout role, cecily played Tamora in Titus Andronicus. feeling the presentation of one of shakespeare’s most terrifying women was ‘pussy-footed’ and dulled down for a male audience, cecily took matters into her own hands, and during the famous banquet scene where Tamora is fed her own sons, she ate a pig’s heart live on stage – receiving both awestruck and horrified press reviews for her performance -- and getting expelled from her drama school. (thats why she is now at lockwood)

she is in a sorority house n the gymnastic squad. she speaks fluently in four languages. the kind f sociopathic lana del rey writes songs about. 

was raised Roman Catholic, and although she is now estranged from religion, it’s still an integral part of her identity. She holds it partially responsible for the need to repress emotion she still experiences. The only time she allows herself to truly feel, without perceiving it as a weakness, is when she’s performing

cecily was raised with dual-nationality and is multi-lingual. Her parents frequently spoke both Italian and English around the house, leading cecily to do the same. She is also somewhat familiar with Latin, having studied it alongside Literature, Contemporary Dance and Theatre at a manhattan-based performing arts boarding school.

ethereal wood elf. plays flute and does ballet. her favourite tv shows are making a murderer and dance moms. she is big on Tchaikovsky and Bukowski. poetry to cecily is soup of the soul, despite the fact that the only things she really feels are apathy and mild disgust. her poems mostly centre around the beauty of violence -- writing about it often prevents her from committing violent acts -- and also her cat.

loves gettin fucked up. always high on sometin -- cocaine, ecstasy, love, her own ego.

had her first taste of alcohol at 15 and has stayed fond of spirits ever since. likes literature of the macabre, isn’t fond of social media, and loves knee high socks and glitter. she bites her nails, will only take cold showers, and doesn’t drink coffee. loves cats. is vegan.

she sleeps like a cat, regularly but short amounts of time, and is usually found awake at night stalking the streets in the pursuit of self-destruction. she views herself as pansexual because she is attracted to people rather than genders but she thinks men are trash. probably biromantic or homoromantic. she loves the chase. she likes meaningless sexual liasons, but if hearts are broken in the process, even better. hearts are breakable and she believes those who have them are foolish.

aesthetic:  peroxide hair in a bathtub, bleach, glittery socks under spaghetti strap heels, silk slip dresses, glitter smeared beneath eyes, split knuckles, nose bleeds, a bubble of blue gum snapped against cherry flavoured lips, orange peel, knee-high socks, tartan two-piece skirt and blazers, kate moss posters ripped out of vogue, littering a bedroom wall, yearbook photos tacked together with red thread, clip in highlights, stick on earrings, french music humming from a crackly gramophone, a hip flask covered with hello kitty stickers

PLOTS.

i currently have NO PLOTS for her so everything is open. if you want a cousin / ex-lover / friend with benefits  / bully, or are dying for a specific connection, let me know or like this post and i will msg you!! LOVE U ALL xoxo

more plots all of these are plagiarised:

“you were drunk and you climbed in through my apartment window and I’m not really sure how you managed it because not only is the fire escape broken but you are really fucking plastered wtf please, teach me your skills?”

“i set your kitchen on fire ‘by accident’ because i hate your guts, and you know it was me but you have no evidence”

“we’re in a breakfast club style all day detention”

“you came over for ‘help studying’ and my roommate came home five minutes after we were done hooking up and you got roped into a conversation about her dogs and everyone is uncomfortable”

“we’re friends but it’s a really toxic relationship made up of trying to one up each other all the time”

“I caught you writing gay porn in the library and now you’re terrified i’ll tell everyone, but really i’m just waiting for the next instalment”

“i asked you to help me sneak my cat into my dorm but we got caught by the janitor and now we’re both in the principal’s office”

“you saw me come back to my apartment covered in blood one night, but you’ve never asked about it because you’re scared that yours might be the next blood i’m covered in”

“you broke into my apartment while I was out for whatever reason and when I came home I knocked you out and now you’re unconscious on my floor and idk what to do?”

“i just decked you in the face because i’m drunk and you were pissing me off but ow my hand really fucking hurts i think i might have broke it and oh look your nose is bleeding and now we’re both sitting awkwardly in the hospital while i glare at you from across the room. but wait are you giving me sex eyes?? stop that i’m supposed to mad at you??”

“you keep dragging suspicious sacks up to and down from your apartment and I don’t know what your deal is or why I still wanna bone you”

“we’re in the same rocky horror troupe”

“i stayed over at your house and woke you up in the middle of the night to have sex while your roommate is asleep and every time, your room mate yells “STOP FUCKING, JESUS CHRIST” right when we’re about to finish”

“we used to have a thing but  now we hate each others guts and can’t be in the same room without yelling at one another”

“i had a drunk one night stand with your brother last year and i threw up in your room, and now we’re in a class together and it’s really awkward.”

#tw:intro #tldr - crazy bitch like 4 plots

[dark-mnjiro]

I posted 7,589 times in 2021

130 posts created (2%)

7459 posts reblogged (98%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 57.4 posts.

I added 216 tags in 2021

#lee off the record - 69 posts

#lee answers - 30 posts

#anime - 23 posts

#haikyuu!! - 18 posts

#genshin impact - 16 posts

#fanfiction - 13 posts

#haikyuu - 13 posts

#fanfic - 12 posts

#writing - 12 posts

#help me celebrate 200 followers!!!! - 10 posts

Longest Tag: 95 characters

#did i write this because oikawa as the sin of greed gives me an excuse to write hilarious lines

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

can i get uhhhh 52 with saeko pls? 🥴💕

I’ve never written for Saeko so I hope I write her well! But thank you 😭 I need to move to write for other characters and move out of my comfort zone! Ahhh thank you babeeees.

How you ended up here had escaped your mind as you recalled being at the bar with Saeko until the wee hours of the morning... and now you were here. You found yourself sitting in her bedroom, fumbling with some spare clothes she has tossed to you to sleep in while she was still in the bathroom.

You managed to quickly change into the t-shirt and shorts before laying down in her bed. Unsure why you were so nervous and chalking it up to the sheer amount of alcohol coursing through your system, you couldn’t deny your overwhelming attraction to your very good friend. “Maybe this will all make sense in the morning,” you croaked, pulling the blankets over your head.

“Are you sleeping already!” Saeko squealed coming into the bedroom, tugging back the blankets. A loud groan tumbled from your mouth as you felt the cold air wash over your body. “The night is still young!”

You sat up, rubbing your eyes with the heel of your palm before fully gauging just what Saeko was wearing. “S-Saeko!” you managed out as you felt embarrassment creeping up the back of your neck. There she stood, in nothing but her bra and fairly skimpy underwear.

Confusion filled her face as she tilted her head at her. “What?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

“That’s what you’re wearing to bed?”

“What’s wrong with it!”

Your mouth fell open as your eyes moved over the curves of her body, causing you to quickly look away. “It-it’s not much,” you mumbled. “Don’t you think you’ll be cold?”

A giggle bubbled from your best friend’s throat as she climbed into bed next to you and playfully leaned into you. “What’s wrong?” she cooed, winking at you. “Does my being half-naked bother you?”

Eyes wide, you pushed her away quickly. “Shut up!”

Saeko giggled before laying down. “Just teasing.”

You laid down as well before you felt your body stiffen at her arms snaking around your waist. “Saeko?”

“Or maybe not...”

39 notes • Posted 2021-01-24 21:28:26 GMT

#4

towards [the sun] .01.

Author’s Note: You don’t have to like/read this fic, I wrote it basically for myself when I came up with a Fatui!Original Character. This was totally self indulgent and I don’t even care. But if you do read, hope you enjoy. It’s been up on AO3 for a bit and I decided to just port it over here as well. Also, shout out to to Ally for letting me use her Genshin Impact OC as well in future parts. I really appreciate you!

Warnings: Diluc x F!Originial Character, Enemies to Lovers (sorta), Possible Explicit Language, Some Accidental Nudity/Walk in, Awkward Shinangans, Mentions of PTSD/PTSD Nightmares and Flashbacks, Fatui!OC, Some Violence/Fighting, Mentions of Gore/Amputation

Part One

It was unbearable. 

Tears streamed from her sapphire eyes as curses tumbled out of her mouth as fellow nurses and doctors attempted to hold her steady on the table. Her right arm, stained red with blood and almost mangled from an exploding mine that her men had accidentally triggered.

“Shuishe!” someone called out to her. “Hold on just a bit longer. We’re going to save you!”

All she could feel was an overwhelming, searing pain raging through her entire body. Her body refused to allow her to respond to the voice trying to reach her as she thrashed against the table and the other people surrounding her in an attempt to hold her down. 

Nothing could be worse than this pain.

Nothing.

Another scream erupted from Shuishe as one doctor scrambled to fill a vile full of medication before jabbing it into her opposite arm, slowly causing her to relax and her eyes to close. 

“...what’s going to happen now, Dr. Ivan?”

A head doctor turned to look and found a ranking officer of the Fatui behind him. “We operate,” he said, stepping backward. “She may—”

“All we need to report to Pulcinella is if his commander will survive,” he interrupted. 

Sighing, the doctor glanced back at the patient unconscious now. “She will survive,” he assured them. “But her right arm is practically severed… her dominant hand…”

“We will make sure she is able to fight,” the officer responded, gruffly. “Regardless of time and money. Do what you have to do to get her back onto her feet.”

“But-”

“Do it.”

The doctor pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, frustration evident on his face at the treatment of his patient. Nothing more than a tool to be used, until she expired. 

“Fine,” he responded before turning back to start working on her injuries and prepping her for the upcoming surgery. A sigh fell from his lips as he heard the Fatui officers exiting the room to allow him to work. “I’m going to take care of you now… just rest for now.”

Her eyes snapped open before wincing at the blinding sunlight spilling into the room as she shielded her eyes with her arm. Clutching her chest, she realized she was having another nightmare from her injury just a year prior. A sigh fell from her lips, relieved it was just another nightmare and that she wasn’t actually relieving that hell. 

Gingerly, she touched her right arm, her fingers trailing over the cool metal before glancing at the metal prosthetic that her superior had fitted for her. Top of the line, she recalled him saying… all she had to do was just think and her arm would move just as normal as her flesh would.

She squeezed her metal fist but felt nothing.

The only price to surviving that ordeal that day…

She glanced out the window, watching the snow glittering over her window almost sparkling in the sunlight. Not that feeling was much of a loss for the soldier. Not after coming to Pulcinella when she was brought to him at a young age… and raced through his ranks until she was leading his armies for Tsaritsa’s scheme. 

And while she wasn’t one of the eleven Lieutenants, she had been blessed to have the gift of Hydro, which was fitting as she worked with many Cryo Skirmishers.

“Miss Shuishe?”

Slowly, she glanced at the door before smoothing out the frizz in her blonde hair before stepping out of bed. “I’m awake,” she said, slipping on a white robe around her nightgown. “I’ll be ready momentarily…”

“Lord Pulcinella has sent your new orders. I’ll have it waiting on the table for you.”

“Thank you,” Shuishe said before unraveling the long braid in her hair to quickly pin up into a bun before slipping on her military uniform with the Fatui insignia on her jacket. Her eyes fell to the rapier that leaned against her vanity as she strapped the black belt around her waist. Gently, she picked up the blade and smiled as her fingers moved along the cool metal. 

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45 notes • Posted 2021-06-26 23:28:38 GMT

#3

it all [fell down]

Author’s Note: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read the tags before you read this fic. It’s a much darker (than I typically write) and I would hate to upset or trigger anyone’s mental illness, etc. There are major spoilers ahead if you haven’t finished season 1 of the anime or caught up with the manga. PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION <3 The tags aren’t really in any order - but I tried to keep the most triggering tags near the beginning

Tags: matsuno chifuyu x f!original character, original character, suicide/suicide mention/attempt/etc, slight dark content due to themes of fic, spoilers for Tokyo Revengers, implied major character death, explicit language, affairs, friends to lovers, angst, fluff and angst, implied gang violence, depression, hurt, explicit sexual content, smut, cunnilingus, sex, romantic sex, mentions of PTSD/PTSD induced nightmares

===

“... and all I gave you is gone .”

Her eyes fell to the counter of the bar as her eyes watched the small ripples form in her drink before lifting it up and taking a long sip. A sigh fell from her lip as she placed the glass down as the ice hit the edge of the glass with a small clank. The diamond ring on her left finger managed to catch her eye. Tugging at the edge of her dress, she became unsure of her portrayal, wondering if she should have picked a more modest dress. The corners of her lips dipped into a frown before she stood up and pulled the edge of the skirt further down her hips.

Damn it , she cursed inwardly. Why did I wear this, it’s not like I’m trying to impress him ...

“Stupid,” she mumbled as she smoothed out the black fabric, kicking herself for agreeing to this. “This is just stupid. I should’ve never agreed to this. I can’t believe Mitsuya tricked me-”

“Tricked you?”

Her eyes widened before turning to meet his gaze. She swallowed hard as her golden eyes quickly dropped to the floor. “I-uh,” she stumbled through her sentence. “...did you hear that?”

His green eyes lit up as he flashed a cheeky grin. “Nothing I’m not used to, Sumiko. It’s nice to see you again.”

Cheeks flushed, Sumiko quickly took her seat back at the bar. “It’s nice to see you too, Chifuyu.”

“Surprised you recognized me without the blonde hair,” he joked.

Sumiko rolled her eyes before her lips broke into a smile. “It’s not hard to recognize you.”

He took the unoccupied seat next to her before ordering himself a drink. She caught herself glancing at him, taking in his appearance. The freshly pressed suit, well kept, natural hair color… So much different than the teenager she had pined after all her middle school years. But, his eyes had remained the same. It was hard to believe so many years had passed between the two of them until Mitsuya had managed to convince her to meet up with everyone for “old time’s sake” and somehow he had forgotten at the last minute.

Sumiko could kick him. As if Baji’s attempts to hook them up in middle school weren’t cringe-enough, looking back… A sigh moved past her lip as she took another sip of the alcohol. “How are things Mr. Executive?” she joked.

Chifuyu chuckled. “You know I’m not. I answer to Takamichi.”

“How could I forget?” she teased. “How is he?”

“Out of sorts recently,” he commented, sighing. “It’s a bit weird.”

“How so?”

Chifuyu shook his head before taking a sip of his own beverage. “Hard to explain,” he admitted.

“How are you then?”

Chifuyu placed his drink back down onto the bar before resting his elbow on the counter. He placed his head in his hand as he glanced at Sumiko. He didn’t speak a word but just seemed to take in her appearance very carefully.

“What?”

He hummed in response. “Crazy isn’t it,” he commented. “We’ve both grown up so much.”

“It is strange how different things are,” Sumiko mumbled.

His hand came out and brushed through her brown locks. “No more pink streaks?”

Sumiko couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled from her throat. “I’m not a child anymore,” she replied.

“Neither am I…”

Her laughter faded as she caught herself staring at him for a moment after his comment. The music in the bar seemed so far away now. His words echoed in her mind before she forced herself to look away from him as her eyes caught the glimpse of the diamond ring again. Nervously, she chewed on her lower lip before she attempted to adjust her position on the bar stool.

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62 notes • Posted 2021-10-04 23:25:36 GMT

#2

Omi choking the life out of me pls.

We’re really going here first for the drabble asks? Gdi Ally. We’re going to go there with choking smut right out the gate.... Dirty dirty under the cut.

Your cries of pleasure were muffled by his grip around your throat tightening with each thrust. Half lidded eyes slowly looked up at Sakusa as his lips curled up into a smirk. “Good girl,” he cooed before loosening just enough to let a small breath of fresh air to feel your lungs. You weren’t sure how much longer you were going to be able to hold out as the heat between your legs was becoming unbearable.

“O-Omi...” you cried out, positive you were close to your climax.”C-choke me-”

“Harder?” he teased, rutting his hips into you, earning a despite cry to fall from your lips. “What a dirty girl...” And suddenly, his grip tightened again, sending you over the edge with a strained cry. “Mmm,” Sakusa whispered, leaning closer to you. “I’m nowhere close to being done with you princess.”

send me a word/situation and hq boy and i’ll write a small drabble

76 notes • Posted 2021-01-10 01:42:40 GMT

#1

the monster [who tells lies]

Rating: Teen or up - nothing too serious

Warnings: betrayal, ending friendship, attempted/faked s*icide, angst, hurt, lies, heavily a venting fic, bakugou x f!reader friendship/established relationship, midoriya x f!reader friendship/established relationship (heavily friendship)

Author’s Note: this is heavily based on L’s famous monster speech in Death Note and a venting fic regarding a person in my life that did nothing more than hurt and use me. I apologize if this one shot is terrible and horribly RUSHED. I was on a roll and I needed to get these feeling out.

——

the monster [who tells lies]

Whipping around the turn up the stairwell, you could hear a siren alarming overhead. You quickly wiped the sweat from your brow as you looked behind you to find your fellow classmates quickly following you, Bakugou leading the pose. Exhaustion was starting to set in as you tried to catch your breath before he stepped closer, grabbing your wrist.

“Hey,” he said, his voice going stern. “Slow down. We’re all behind you. We’re going to catch them this time.”

Nodding, you turned as you continued to make your way up the staircase with him matching your pace. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself at the sheer loyalty your friend had entrusted you with…

“You’re sure the traitor went that way?” Midoriya called out from the group. “I don’t see any signs of-”

“If y/n said the traitor went this way,” Bakugou snapped at his classmate. “I believe it!”

A giggle bubbled from your throat as you thanked Bakugou for his faith in you as you managed to finally reach the top floor of the school. You glanced at your best friend before earning a smirk from him as he forced the door to the roof open. You both raised your arms, shielding your eyes from the bright sunlight glaring from overhead.

As the group’s eyes adjusted to the sudden change in lighting, you looked out into the roof before taking a step outside. The corners of your lips dropped into a frown as you could hear Bakugou growl in frustration. You walked toward the railing, gripping the metal tightly within your hands as you made sure to keep your back toward your friends to avoid the look of disappointment in their eyes.

“I’m confused?” Midoriya asked, following as his head darted around. “Where’s the traitor! Kaachan! Did they escape?!”

“Deku! I can’t tell!” he snapped. “Idiot!”

“I don’t see anyone nearby!” called out Uraraka, who floated high above the group, using her gravity quirk.

“Are you sure you saw them, y/n?” Midoriya asked again, frowning. “I’m sure they were moving too quickly—”

You closed your eyes as a smirk curled over your lips as your head fell forward. A small laugh erupted from your throat before you turned toward your 1-A classmates. “Can I let you in on a little secret?” you asked, playfully.

Frowning, Bakugou took a step toward you as his eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong? Hey-! What are you doing?!”

“There are so many different types of people in the world,” you said, beginning to walk toward him as your smirk grew wider. “So many monsters in his world. So many evils…”

“Y/N,” Midoriya whispered, frowning more. “Hey calm down. What’s wrong? Maybe we can help you.”

“We should head out of here before the other Pro-heroes arrive,” Denki said, trying to ease the situation.

“Yeah let’s—”

“Y/N!” Bakugou shouted, rushing toward you as you began climbing the metal railing. He faltered as he watched you balance your body on it. “Get the hell down from there! You could fall!”

Tilting your head, you flashed him another playful smile. “Oh Bakugou,” you cooed. “Have you learned nothing?”

“I said get down! This joke isn’t funny anymore!”

“Yes please! Get down! This is dangerous!” Midoriya shouted, standing next to Bakugou now as they both attempted to plead for your safety.

Another giggle erupted from you as you looked out onto the city. “Monsters can’t be trusted,” you said simply before glancing back at the two students. “They always tell lies.”

“W-what are you talking about?”

“God dammit! Get down from there before I drag your ass back down the stairs!” Bakugou shouted at you.

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77 notes • Posted 2021-02-09 03:55:34 GMT

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