#i’m sorry but her whole monologue | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

In 2020, 27% of US Tumblr users had an annual household income of over $100,000.

#i’m sorry but her whole monologue

thestoryofusstan · 2 months

Text

Sweet Creature

harry styles masterlist

pairing: kinda dark!harry styles x reader

summary: harry’s mother finds a girl on the side of the street one day while harry’s away. he hears about her for months, until he finally decides to see for himself. expecting her to be an undercover rat, he is surprised to find a girl more similar to a deer in headlights.

warning: kinda dark harry kinda alludes to him doing illegal, mafia type stuff but it isn’t specified. third person writing instead of second, READER DOESN’T USE HER REAL NAME!!! she will eventually just not yet.

—

harry had been hearing about some girl non-stop. by who, you may ask?

his mother.

his sweet, kind mother somehow found a girl who was living on the streets, took her in (gave her his room!), and is obsessed with her.

“oh, harry, she’s just the sweetest! gemma says she’s like a kicked puppy, but she’s just so sweet. this morning, i woke up, and she’d cleaned the whole house! and i asked her why, because i obviously didn’t tell her to, and she said she figured she should. you’d love her. proper sweetheart.”

and honestly, it was sweet. he probably would like her if he wasn’t the way he is. because the way he is, he thinks it’s a trap. he thinks she was never really living on the streets, and it’s a ploy. someone found his family and is trying to ruin it.

but, of course, he’d never let his mother know of the way he actually is and thinks, or what he does for a living.

“she sounds lovely, mum. what did you say her name was?”

“she says it’s belle. she’s always singing some french song. i think she lived in france before she got here.. i’m not sure. she isn’t very talkative.”

“she got an accent?”

“a little bit of everything, hazza. when will you come visit? i think you have to be the one to tell her that your room is hers now. she keeps saying ‘harry’s room’ and ‘your son’s room’. i feel horrible!”

“she’s probably just weary mum. if she was on the streets before, she probably just doesn’t want to jinx it.”

“you’re right.. gosh, she won’t even let gemma and i buy her things. she just borrows gemma’s clothes and apologizes a bunch for it. i’m not sure what to do.”

“i’ll come visit soon.”

—

and he did. a surprise visit in the middle of the night, because he was convinced he’s find this belle girl doing shady things .

except when he snuck in the front door, the house was quiet.

alright, he supposes, she’s stealthy.

so he goes upstairs and quietly opens his bedroom door.

and that’s when it’s a little louder. a girl is twisted and turning and mumbling in her sleep on his bed.

all she is saying, from what he can hear, is no. no, no, no, no, no. please, no.

and he feels a little bad, so he walks over to tap her. when that doesn’t work, he shakes her.

her eyes snap open and she has probably the worst reaction possible in this situation.

she fucking screams. like a goddamn banshee.

and sure, it lasts for maybe five seconds, probably four, but she definitely woke his mother up. and it’s so loud, he backs up to the doorway.

gemma was probably still passed out. she would sleep through the world ending.

“hey! it’s just me, calm down!”

she squinted at him through the darkness before yanking the chain on the lamp, turning it on.

he could hear her practically hyperventilating from the doorway.

she let out a sigh of relief when she recognized him from the photos in the living room.

“you really are jumpy, huh?”

“i woke up to a random man hovering over me,” she deadpans.

he almost laughs.

“it’s my room.”

and it’s like a fucking switch. her breaths are staggered and labored, but she still rushes out a whole ass monologue. kicked puppy, indeed.

“oh, my god. i am so sorry. i forgot. i can— i can take the couch— you probably want to sleep in your bed. i’m sorry, anne didn’t say you were coming by or else i would’ve cleaned up—“

the room is spotless, probably cleaner than when he stays in it, but harry doesn’t say that.

“i’ll just.. grab my blanket and stuff and go to the couch. i’m so sorry, i didn’t know—“

“relax,” he finally says. “i knew you’d be in here. i was just.. grabbing a pillow. didn’t realize mum was serious about you being jumpy.”

“oh.. uh.. are you sure? i can take the couch—“

“belle— belle, right?” she nods. “go back to bed. i have slept on plenty of couches. i will survive.”

“i feel bad.”

“well, don’t.”

he should feel bad. she is very clearly not dangerous unless she is a phenomenal actress.

“you’re not mad, are you? because i can sleep on the couch—“

“jesus, are y’gonna cry?”

“i can’t help it! i’m sorry!—“

“what on earth is going on— harry! what did you do!” anne asked as she rushed through the doorway, moving to sit next to belle.

“i didn’t do anything!” he defends.

“he didn’t do anything, anne,” she repeats. “just.. frightened me, is all.”

anne gives her a look before pulling her into a hug, and she just flips another switch and instead of watering eyes, she sobs.

who the hell is her acting coach? maybe he could take a few lessons.

“h, go get her a cuppa.. and there’s those baby yogurt melts in the cupboard.”

he doesn’t comment on the fact that belle is at the very least 19, and probably shouldn’t be eating baby food.

—

the next morning, belle made her way downstairs quietly. she was surprised to see harry making a cup of tea this early, but she didn’t say anything, not wanting to disturb his peace.

she adjusted her earbuds in her ear (anne offered to buy her better ones, airpods or something, but she was fine with her earbuds, even if the wire was a pain in the ass), so they didn’t fall out as she walked.

once she made it into the kitchen, she walked into the pantry, grabbing some random granola bar.

when she turned, she jumped. harry was right behind her. well, in front of her now.

“sorry,” she mumbled, moving out of his way.

he muttered something she didn’t understand.

“um.. sorry about.. last night. i’m kind of jumpy.”

“i noticed.”

he was very short. he didn’t seem to like her much.

“you can.. uh.. take your.. room back.. if you want.”

“it’s yours. i’m fine.”

“are you—“

“i’m sure.”

rude. why was he so rude? what had she done to him? well, besides scream at him, but in her defense, he was just hovering over her! that’s weird!

—

harry still didn’t trust her after a week of being there. she kept to herself for the most part, although he was pretty sure he heard her and gemma giggling in the middle of the night.

he just couldn’t figure out who sent her. why she was here.

his mother explained her freakout when he showed up eventually.

“you gotta be careful with her, h. she’s like.. a bunny, in a way. if you aren’t careful in how you approach her and speak to her, she bolts. first day she was here, i asked her what happened, because she had this horrible cut on her cheek. locked herself in your room for a week. i think whatever put her on the streets is a sensitive topic, and was difficult for her.”

“i jus’ dunno if i trust her, mum.”

“well, i do. she’s sweet, she just needs to warm up to you. she warmed up to me and gemma after about a week or two.. and she’s been more jumpy when gem brings michael around. so.. she might just need a minute.”

“the whole thing just seems.. shady.”

“she’ll tell us when she’s ready. and until then, you’ll make her feel welcomed. speaking of, i’m gonna go wash her clothes. poor girl won’t let us buy her anything. she just has these same clothes she had and a few things gemma convinced her to use.”

—

a/n: little thing i wrote on a plane, part 2 soon-ish maybe

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry imagine #harry oneshot #harry fic #harry #styles #harry and belle #sweet creature series

640 notes · View notes

melrodrigo · 7 months

Text

The Other Side Of The Door - V.C.

Vada Cavell x Fem!Reader

Summary: Vada’s been a questionable girlfriend lately, and you’ve decided you’ve had enough.

Warnings: Angst, Vada is kinda toxic in this, mentions of drinking

Word Count: 1.2k+

A/N: Inspired by TOSOTD by miss t-swizzle herself. I hope u angst monsters r happy, I don’t write angst very often. Also! Did not proofread this, sorry bout that

“Leave.” You say, face stoney and eyes narrowed. You ignore the voice inside of you that says this is a terrible idea.

Your girlfriend blinks back at you, taken aback by the venom in your voice.

Her expression changes from happy to crestfallen in a second, and it takes everything in you to not immediately take back what you’ve just said.

“What is this about?” She asks, eyes wide.

The minute your girlfriend had waltzed into your room, whistling to her favorite Juice Wrld song, she had been met with the sight of you sitting on your bed, arms crossed.

“What is this about? Are you kidding, Vada?” You seethe, too pissed to have any sort of filter anymore.

She gulps.

“How about it’s about the countless times I’ve had to drag you back home because you were drunk shitless, doing god knows what with god knows who, without any explanation whatsoever.” You’re standing up now, sizing Vada up.

“It’s about the amount of times you’ve ignored me this whole week, never answering texts, never picking up my calls. Am I even your girlfriend anymore?” You press, rambling as if everything that’s been pent up inside you for weeks stars spilling out all at once.

Your girlfriend pales as you monologue, eyes darting to lock on anything but your face.

“But-“ She opens her mouth and closes it a couple times, searching for something to say.

You cut her off quickly. Unwillingly to let her have any say in this.

“Quite frankly, I’ve had enough. So if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to leave.” You tell her, pretending you don’t see the way her eyes are starting to water.

She’s as still as a statue for a good minute or two, contemplating what she wants to do. You can practically see the cogs turning in her brain.

One more glare from you has her rushing out your room and downstairs. You can’t help the pang in your chest as you watch her leave. After everything, you still want her to stay.

Stupid girl and the grip she has on me.

Nothing quells your bad mood for the rest of the night. You spend dinner shooting back one word responses to your mom’s inquiries, irritable.

You tuck yourself into bed, check your phone for a message from anyone—okay, maybe you wanted to see if Vada had said anything, but nothing. You huff and pull the sheets over your body, closing your eyes shut and forcing sleep to have its way with you.

Somehow, in the morning, you wake up even more annoyed. Whenever you’ve had fights with Vada before, the morning after she’d be all over you; begging for forgiveness and blowing up your phone.

You’re ashamed to admit you like the attention.

Today, nothing. Not a single call or text from your normally oh so talkative girlfriend.

As the day goes on, you start feeling mournful. Regret courses deep through you. You sit and stew in your feelings until you can’t think of anything else.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said all that.

It’s a sad Sunday that’s spent with you staring at cute photographs you’d taken with her months prior, and jumping at the sound of any notification. It’s pathetic, but you need her. You don’t remember how long it’s been since you and Vada have had a day apart.

You’re stuck. You miss her so much, but your stupid pride won’t allow you to text first, or to go find her, because what would you even do? You’d been the one to apologize first too many times. This time, you decide it’s going to be up to Vada.

You sleuth around for the rest of your Sunday. When you finish dinner and storm to your room, your turmoil has turned into spite.

“If you don’t call in the next 5 minutes I swear I’m breaking up with you.” You hiss to the phone, staring intently at Vada’s profile picture, as if she’s just going to pop out of the phone by sheer will of you wanting her there.

After a minute of this, you set the phone down and take a deep breath. You turn your phone on do not disturb and pick up a book. All this drama has you feeling like you need to reconnect with nature a bit.

It’s a book Vada herself had recommended you, which was funny, since your girlfriend barely read shit. You hate to admit she has good taste. You glide through the pages easily, happy for a distraction.

Minutes turn into hours, and before long, you notice that the light is starting to dim down and the sun is starting to set. You also hear the tiny pitter-patter of rain hitting the roof.

You get up and walk to your window, face still buried in your book, and gently ease it open, hoping to find some comfort in the fresh air and smell of wet grass.

What you get is not that. A pebble, the size of your pinky comes hurling, too fast for even your reflexes to react.

It hits you smack dab in the face, making you loosen your grip on the book and dropping it. You groan, rubbing the part of your nose that stings. You hear a tiny oh shit below you and you peer out your window so fast it gives you whiplash.

The sight of Vada standing in the rain, her hair messy and her bike discarded on your tiny front yard brings out a lot of mixed emotions in you.

Finally. Goddamn, finally.

She looks sheepish as she speaks. “I’m sorry!” She squeaks. “I didn’t mean to hit you- I swear. I was just trying to do one of those huge romantic gestures where the guy gets the girls attention by throwing pebbles at her window ya know? But it ended up being kinda fun and I didn’t see you when I threw that one-“ She says, speaking so fast you can barely understand her.

When you don’t answer, it’s almost like Vada remembers what she came here for. She straightens up, wiping her palms on her loose graphic tee.

“I’m sorry. I really am. If you would hear me out, I’ll explain everything. I promise. I’m sorry for not coming to my senses earlier, and I’m sorry for not paying you enough attention. I love you, I’m in love with you; you know that. More than anything.” She yells, almost screams so you can hear her clearly.

You feel your walls crumble immediately. How were you going to deny your sweet, loving, albeit sort of confusing girlfriend of your love? It was no use. She always wins when it comes to you.

You sigh.

Vada waits patiently, shifting on her feet and shivering slightly from the cold.

You gesture for her to come in with your hand, and you have to stop yourself from laughing at the joy that sparks across her face immediately.

She sprints in, saying a quick hello to your mom- who probably heard everything, and runs up the stairs, practically tackling you onto your own bedroom floor.

She’s soaked, and you can already feel the water seeping through your own shirt, but you don’t care. Vada’s wrapped herself tight around you, like a baby koala. She’s trembling slightly, and you notice she’s crying.

You place your hand on top of her head, rubbing gently. You murmur sweet nothings into her ear.

She tilts her head up to look at you, eyes all red and puffy. She looks so pretty like this.

“I missed you so much.” She gushes.

You grin lazily, happy to have your girlfriend back in your arms.

“I missed you too, baby.”

#vada cavell x reader #vada cavell x y/n #vada cavell #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega

572 notes · View notes

stagefoureddiediaz · 3 months

Text

Ok so we get this

and this

And I proceed to spiral about colour theory and costume theory and end up writing and expansion to this post I made about Buck in yellow ochre!!! Sorry y'all, you know what that means - my unhinged colour theory and costume meta's are Back!!!

Lets start by revisiting all of Bucks previous yellow ochre wearing shenanigans!

3x06 the yellow ochre sweater he wears when he gets sent home by Bobby - this does after we see Buck and Eddie making up with each other - a moment when we see Buck learning more about himself and growing (read becoming less self-centred and understanding the concept of being part of a team and recognising that he needs to be better about stepping in with Eddie!)

4x02 - Yellow ochre jumper - first in a video chat with Maddie, Chim and Albert, but then more importantly, when he is in his therapy session with dr Copeland - the whole ‘I hide my true feelings from others’ moment - yet another moment of Buck recognising something about himself. I think this is the most key scene in Bucks yellow ochre wearing - more on that in a bit.

4x03 Bucks yellow ochre t-shirt - a t-shirt that matches the shade of the jumper from above, and a moment when Buck confesses to Maddie that he’s in therapy - about being sad and lonely and wanting to be ‘finer’

4x04 - the yellow knit sweater from 3x06 is back (yes it is the same sweater) and this is when Buck has his entire life upended and he finds out about Daniel (kicking us into Buck begins)

4x11 - Buck talks to Maddie and Josh about Sue’s hit and run, then talks to Taylor about Sue. This one is a much brighter yellow than the ochres we’ve seen up to now, but I’m including it because I think its relevant to Bucks arc here (also because it connects into the next time we see Buck wearing yellow - the will scene) the concept of being hit with information that leads to Bucks growth and the nature of most hit and runs not being solved, the perpetrator never being caught and therefore not getting closure on something (this is super relevant I promise!)

Then we have 4x14 and two yellow ochre tops - the first is the sweater, this one is trending more towards orange brown, but its still in the ochre wheelhouse! this oe is all about communication - mostly at Buck - Taylor telling him how stupid he was for climbing the crane, receiving a phonemail from Ana to tell him Eddie is awake, facilitating communication between Eddie and Chris and then Buck communication himself - thinking it would’ve been better if he had been shot. Directly communicating to the audience (as much as Eddie) the inner monologue of Bucks own opinion of the point of his existence.

Then we get the beloved will scene and Buck wearing a yellow ochre shirt, still lighter than the other yellow ochre we’d seen up to this point, with the exception of the previous one which is brighter still. again this is mostly about people communicating at Buck rather than him being the communicator - much like with the previous Jumper. It somewhat plays into the concept of Buck being a passive part of his life rather than actively living it - Kinda hard to explain at this point without the context of the costumes from s5&6. I also want to point out Taylor is in that dark green again here - in the scene when Buck opens the door to the Diaz house.

5x03 gives us Buck in that same shade of yellow ochre (bear in mind we haven’t seen him in any other colour between the will reveal and this scene (beyond uniform!) and here we have Buck pushing Eddie and communicating without actually giving much of himself away - yes he uses himself as an example, but he doesn’t actually open up about himself all that much (this is important - its not the time for that and it provides space for Buck to continue his internal monologue about his self worth) after this he goes home to his loft and we get him communication to a Taylor who isn’t actually present in the space - a symbolic scene that shows that he gets just as much from her absence as her presence (a play on the idea that Buck can communicate better with her when she isn’t actually present compared with when she is - its a juxtaposition of the scene from earlier when they were in bed together and she didn’t listen to anything he was saying, or his wants/needs)

5x04 a scene at the Buckley-Han apartment where Buck isn’t communicating with Chim - Chim is very much communication with Buck about his despair over Maddie leaving - Buck obviously knows where Maddie is at this point, but he diocesan’t take the opportunity to communicate effectively with Chim. so This is yet another example of Buck failing to communicate, while some one around him is clearly communicating and this scene has the addition of secrecy thrown into the mix.

Then we have 5x14 - this one is a bit less obvious - its the yellow ochre and black plaid jacket - its an outlier in that its not solid yellow ochre, but it is again a scene where we get communication - this time BUck is actually the one to do some communicating, but like pretty much always, we don’t get him pushing too much and we see him continuing to deflect from making things about himself - he’s desperate to talk about the shooting and its impact on him, but Eddie resists and Buck backs off. the check here is a nice addition because it shows the concept of cross purposes, but also there is less yellow than in other outfits - the black seems to be ‘devouring’ the yellow - almost like a play on the idea that this was Bucks one big chance to communicate, but he doesn’t take it.

That is the last time we see Buck wearing yellow ochre until the end of season 6 - 6x15 and his date with Natalia to be precise! we’re back to that same shade of yellow ochre and once again we have Buck communicating - but its very much playing into what Natalia what to hear. I don’t doubt that BUck wants to talk about his death and resurrection, but we don’t actually see the conversation beyond the superficial overtures Buck makes. This plays into the suggestion that its about him trying to impress Natalia rather than actually about what Buck needs or wants to say. Its once again Buck communicating without actually communicating. something Eddie picks up on in the later graveyard scene and tries to provide the space for him to open up - which Buck doesn’t take.

The theme continues with the the next Buck/Natalia date in 6x17 - yellow ochre once again, this time an open shirt - again its that same shade, and we see a continuation of the Buck communicate via deflection technique he employs - this scene, like his previous date with Natalia, is more about her and the writers showing us her hang ups/ insecurities than it is about Bucks - beyond showing us that they aren’t actually all that compatible - its kind of framed in the same way as his previous relationships (especially Taylor) - Buck playing into what he thinks someone wants him to be rather than being who he actually is.

This concept is something we see in pretty much all of the previous scenes where Buck is wearing Yellow ochre, this desire to be what people need him to be rather than who he actually is. there are a couple of exceptions - the first time we see Buck in yellow ochre is probably the only instance where we see Buck being somewhat honest with himself - there is an element of him playing the role he needs to to win back Eddies friendship, but I think its coming from a genuine place and is born out of a real desire to be better - he really did learn his lesson. The fact that the next time we see the yellow ochre used is in his therapy session scene where he literally states that he hides his true feelings from others is a big giant yellow ochre flag waving around telling us that when we see Buck in yellow ochre he will be playing into that idea - and that’s then how it transpires in every subsequent scene where he is in yellow ochre.

Which brings me to this new still

no one can tell me there isn’t an air of conflict about that scene - the dark cool tone of the image suggests a coolness to the room - that idea of the cold shoulder or the temperature dropping when there is conflict between two people. their body language is also adding to that vibe - Chris turned in on himself, not sat with Buck, the space between them.

Whatever this scene transpires being about, based on what we've seen with Buck wearing yellow ochre, we can assume its going to continue to play into this idea of Buck not being fully truthful with people and fitting into the role he thinks people want him to pay rather than being true to himself.

I do want to add to this theory by looking at Christophers shirt as well. The grey/ yellow combination is a bit reminiscent of Breaking point (the episode that really is the gift that keeps on giving) becasue we get Chris in grey and Eddie in tan - that is yellowish toned whilst not actually being yellow

There isn't a good screenshot of them together, but the placing of Chris and Buck in the new one has echoes of Eddie and Chris in that scene (one that is interestingly enough playing into the idea of changing family dynamics, but also the moment before and the one that happens afterwards at Bucks loft, directly placing Buck into a parental role (as an aside the idea of Buck being a miracle worker plays into the theme of Eddie looking for magic, just saying!))

Anyone want to play a game of whose shirt does this look like??!!!

Oh you do! well what if I leave these two pictures just here...

yes, yes that is a Chris sized version of that shirt - you know the one Buck was wearing when he and Taylor talked about complicated family dynamics and about telling 'other peoples stories because I hate telling my own' you know that scene about playing a part and not being yourself around people you're supposedly close to! Yes That scene - or how about the scene which happens to be the last time we saw Buck in Chris's bedroom, where Buck talks to Eddie about complicated family dynamics, about needing to have the right outfit on for the occasion, the scene where they talk about retirement, oil and Buck is playing with a dinosaur! yeah see where I'm going with this! Chris wearing a grey shirt that similar to Bucks is Paralleling those scenes - so playing into the idea of history or of thing being outdated and needing to change, of dressing for the occasion (an allegory for playing a role - to fit in to whatever environment you're in rather than being your true self) and most importantly of complicated family dynamics - suggesting that there may have been some change in the dyamics - perhaps this will play into the will (also colour paralleling the will scene as Buck is in yellow ochre and the breaking point scene with Eddie in a yellowish colour and Chris in grey) and perhaps Chris discovering Buck would be his guardian in the event Eddie isn't around. I mean we'll have to wait and see for the actual context, but I will eat my hat if the season 7 scene isn't playing into Buckley-Diaz family dynamics in some way!

Back to this still

I keep flip flopping on if its Buck or Bobby, but right now the lack of grey hair is making me lean towards it being Buck.

This is a still of the back of Bucks head from his coma dream for comparison (blurry as hell as he's not in focus but it looks enought like the same shape of hairline and of Olivers ear for me to feel like its more Buck than Bobby!

I think the shirt is what is throwing me off though because its just so not a typical Buck shirt (excepting coma dream Bucks!).

I've gone back through my notes and I just can't find any examples of Buck wearing this kind of patterning or shirt before, the closest we get is that hideous shirt he is wearing at the hospital after Kameron has given birth

The only thing I can do is scream into the void about check theory because check does't bode well for people - they always end up in the middle of the drama (see my check theory posts linked on my pinned post for more) and while they come out the other side (99% of the time) Buck in check for that scene in 6x18 pretty much doomed his relationship with Natalia (its specific to her and not C&K's baby as Buck wasn't wearing it when he delivered it!) and as that shirt in the still is very un Buck like, has not only yellow ochre in it, but also its a white base (and we all know buck in white is a bad sign!!) and its check patterned - my theory is that this scene is connected to Natalia in some way - either Buck is not being true to him self in more than one way - that things are going to/have come to a head for their relationship (my kingdom for a reverse of Buck to Eddie about Ana in 5x03!!!) and lead to a pretty big change in some way (fingers crossed for Buck to end it and then finally break down and deal with his trauma!!!)

Some other things about that shirt - I've brightened it up in the picture below - the colour combination - the green blue and yellow ochre are giving me call backs to coma Buck (another reason I think it might be connected to Bucks unresolved trauma around his death and Eddies absense in his dream)

Then there is the burgundy stripe in combination with Eddies hand placement and the fact Eddie is wearing a denim shirt - its very Tsunami call back (even the white plays into this as well as Buck was in white when he saved Chris) -

I'm quite probably clowning hard at this point, but the fact we've got Eddie in denim again (not something he wears all that often) in a scene where he puts his hand on Bucks shoulder in that way and with his Christopher watch so very prominent - we'll I might be feeling a certain way about it.

It would make sense to play into that story arc - after all - the opening of season 7 is very much centred around a big water based disaster - its got to bring up a few things for the two of them. If it is related, Eddies Denim being darker at this point would be a nice play on things - the idea that there is more deepness - more depth to his relationship with Buck than there was in early season 3 (it even calls back to flash back Eddie in 3x16 - he is wearing dark denim when him and Shannon fight and Chris wakes up)

Ok thats enough rambling from me! Hopefully i have made a tiny bit of sense! of to go back to screaming in the void now!!

tagging a few people who might be interested! @extasiswings @copyninjabuckley @oneawkwardcookie @spotsandsocks @mandzuking17 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @theladyyavilee @mistmarauder

#I'm being totally fine and normal about this #I missed writing about colour theory and costumes!!#We back baby #kym costume meta #costume spiralling #colour theory #kym colour theory #911 spoilers #911 abc #evan 'buck' buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #is it buck is it bobby? who knows!!#but I think its Buck!#buddie #I'll be over here spiralling!

258 notes · View notes

updownlately · 9 months

Text

i know that you love me (even when i lose my head)

| alessia russo x reader | fluff | 2.0k | inspo: moon and back by jvke and guillotine by jon bellion | a/n: thanks for you patience with this one mate! hope you like it! this one was a long time coming with a handful of hurdles but we got there.

~~~

“Okay, but what if they don’t like me? Especially since-”

“-Less,” you tried interjecting, not managing to stop the striker from spiralling deeper into her panic, her pacing making you dizzy.

“I swear I didn’t mean to tackle Caitlin so harshly when we played-”

“Lessi-” you cut in again, unsuccessful once more.

“Oh my gosh, she’s a front-line player too…what if she doesn’t pass me the ball? Or worse-”

“Alessia!” Your voice was firm this time, nearly teetering on the edge of a shout but managing to cut the blonde’s inner monologue of anxiety short.

Reaching your hands out to where she had frozen from her marching, nearly right in front of you, you intertwined your fingers before pulling her to sit beside you.

Nervous energy near palpable, the tension rolling off her in waves, you brought your interlaced hands up to your face, kissing each of her knuckles soothingly before turning ever so slightly to face her.

“I’m sorry...”

The quiet utterance of the words from the girl to your left had your shoulders dropping, annoyed at yourself for making her feel small.

“Love, you don’t have to apologize for anything. You’re allowed to be stressed, worried, whatever it is that you’re feeling…” You kept your volume low, an apologetic note in your tone, praying the words reassured Alessia from her worries.

Continuing, you figured you may as well state the point you originally wanted to, having been displeased with how unconfident Alessia appeared at the thought of meeting her new team- your team of three years.

“Listen, you’ve met majority of the team before and they love you. Scuffles on the pitch don’t change that, alright? And we’re your new team, you’re a Gunner now, you’ve pretty much been considered a part of us ever since you visited back in January…the world cup passing by doesn’t change anything.”

“But that was as your girlfriend! And as Leah and Lotte’s national teammate! Not as Alessia Russo ‘new signing for Arsenal’!”

You placed a hand on the blonde’s thigh to grab her attention again.

Taking note of the worry lines littering her face, you gently reached across with your other hand, it coming to rest on her cheek as you smoothed out the wrinkles on the bridge of her nose and forehead.

And as Alessia’s eyes fluttered shut at your ministrations you smiled, gently running over the little hills and valleys until they disappeared.

Happy with the result, you began to pull your hand back, only to put it back on the other girl’s cheek when you noticed her face scrunching with displeasure at the absence of warmth and touch.

Ignoring how much your back was protesting this awkward position, your body half turned, right arm crossing over your whole torso, you focused on bringing comfort to your girlfriend.

Voice dropping low once again, you hoped your words comforted the blonde as wholeheartedly as your emotion backing them.

“They love you already, trust me okay? I swear to god each day Steph and Kim ask me when I’m adding you to the group chat- which speaking of remind me to do later? I keep forgetting. But anyways, seriously…they’re all so excited to meet you as a teammate and of course as a friend. Girlfriend and national teammate Alessia isn’t different from teammate Alessia. You’re still you and they’ve loved your company in the past and they no doubt will love you now and later, capeesh?”

And when Alessia timidly nodded at your words, a small smile finally appearing on her lips, you smiled back, a quiet breath of relief leaving you.

You considered sharing the idea that had been on your mind, a last resort, a last ditch effort to soothe your girlfriend’s panicking. You initially thought that she wouldn’t like the idea, you aware that the blonde wasn’t a fan of meeting new people in huge groups, but it was worth a shot right?

Voice still gentle, each word coming out slowly, judging her response after each syllable, you watched carefully for Alesia’s reaction at your words.

“Would it help if we met with a handful of them before our first practice? Maybe a game night or dinner at ours or someone else’s place?”

Just like you had figured, Alessia froze up, ocean eyes widening comically before meeting your own.

“I- uhm? Maybe?,” she just barely managed to squeak out.

You let out a gentle smile, pressing closer to Alessia in order to place a gentle kiss to her forehead. Lips meeting her hairline you murmured against the blonde before pulling her into a hug, arms wrapping around her shoulders.

“How about you let me set up a dinner, with just a few of the girls yeah? Trust me?” And as you felt her nod against you, her own arms coming to settle around your waist, you smiled softly, excited for her to finally be playing with you, for her new beginning and the new friendships you knew she was absolutely going to have.

~~~

“I think I regret setting up that initial dinner, not going to lie.”

You wished the quiet words coming out of your mouth were only a joke but in all honestly, they were spoken in at least half honesty. Ever since you had set up that initial dinner, majority of the team meeting for a game night as Beth and Viv’s (and Laura’s) place, Alessia’s initial worries had been more than washed away, the blonde fitting perfectly in with the squad.

From helping Viv and Kim with the cooking to floating across the room and reminiscing about camps with Lotte and Leah, to talking to Katie and Steph about the world cup, Alessia was everywhere, her nervousness seemingly quenched, moving with ease.

You had quietly observed, as the night passed on, the way her still shoulders slowly relaxed, her smile getting brighter in the ever dimming light outside, nearly lighting up the room inside by itself. And when the blonde tucked her into your side as the energy of the room slowly waned as the night progressed, you could see the glint in her eyes, a content smile lazily on her face as she pecked your cheek in a silent thanks.

But since that day? Since that day you were sure the rest of the team had seen your girlfriend more than you had. The two weeks of time off you (and the rest of the girls competing in the world cup) had been given coming to a near end and you had barely seen your better-half after the first two days.

You were glad that she was fitting in well with the team, it’s of course what you had wanted after all. But right now? You wanted to go back in time and not plan that dinner.

Here you were, first day of proper training with the rest of the Gunners, in your apartment trying to gather your things at nearly nine in the morning, grumpy with the early start the after a blissful fortnight of late nights and even later mornings.

As you struggled to find your left cleat, something you had somehow managed to misplace after the flight back from Australia, you could her the impatient huffs escaping Alessia, the blonde having been ready to go to practice since last week.

“Babe, please can you hurry up? We need to get to practice!”

You closed your eyes, quelling your annoyance at yourself down. Muttering underneath your breath, you tore open your kit bag, looking for your second cleat. “Yeah, let me just look harder? Because that’s going to find my boot…”

Unironically, no quicker than the words left your mouth did your hands meet the hard bottom of your desired object, the orange shoe making itself known from under the pile of extra clothes you stashed in the bottom of your kit.

“Okay I’ve found it! We can-“ No sooner than did the words escape you did you hear the lock to the door opening, Alessia slipping out of your apartment, the excited patter of her feet getting quieter with each second that passed.

You laughed silently to yourself, mood lifting quickly at the other girl’s excitement.

Grabbing the keys to your car because of course the girl with the Mercedes rather not drive, a passenger princess if you’ve ever seen one, you followed.

Locking up behind you, you knew for a fact that the blonde was probably mentally face-palming right now, her forgetfulness that you had the keys not an uncommon occurrence. Yet, you were glad for the quick moment of peace.

Since the pair of you had woken up, the normally groggy striker had been bouncing around your shared place, channeling the energy of a five-year old on a sugar rush. Between tugging you up to brush your teeth with her to scrambling off to start on coffee on breakfast, the blonde had been constantly on the move, a grin on her face

You knew it was in no doubt due to the excitement of seeing her friends, new and old, that the worried Alessia from a few weeks ago was nowhere to be seen, instead replaced by this overgrown child that you couldn’t help but find adorable. As adorable as it was however, you were grateful for the breather as you caught the elevator down, nowhere near enough energy in your body yet to stay caught up with the blonde.

Finally making your way down, a ding signaling your arrival at the floor of the car park, you walked towards your car. Approaching it however, you hung your head trying to hide your smile at the sight in front you.

By the passenger door sat Alessia, her tall body folded up in a small ball as her bag laid beside her. Her smile hadn’t left her face, only slightly dimmed, her eyes sparkling however, as she heard your footsteps approaching.

“Were you planning on leaving without me?” You teased, dangling your keys in the air before reaching a hand out to pull the taller girl up.

Sheepishly the blonde wrung her hands. “I forgot you had the keys…”

Shaking your head in amusement you chuckled, moving to open the passenger door for the blonde before rounding the car to your own.

~~~

One loud-music packed carride later, the two of you found yourself in the training ground parking lot, Alessia nearly leaving the car before you could put it in park. And as you grabbed your kit bag from the back seat you could hear the Englishwoman’s voice as it began to fade out.

“Walk faster! C’mon! I don’t want to be late!”

Running to catch up to her, you grabbed Alessia’s free hand with your own, fingers intertwining with her own, forcing the striker to slow down to your pace.

“And to think two weeks ago you were nearly talking my head off, anxious about meeting the other girls…” You laughed as you spoke the words, the way Alessia was pulling you along to try and cut the few minute walk to seconds reminding you of your nieces and nephews when you took them to the park.

“Love relax, they’re not going anywhere…” Eyes filled with mirth, you let yourself be dragged into the facility and towards the locker room, grins not leaving either of your faces.

It was only when Alessia stopped in front of the entrance to the change room, music nearly audible through the wooden door, that you tilted your head, smile falling as it was replaced by confusion.

“Less what-“

“I love you.” The raw, unprovoked confession had your smile appearing within milliseconds, hand coming to wrap around Alessia’s shoulders, pulling her in for a hug as you tried to hide just how wide you were beaming.

“I love you too, dork. Now, we got a team to join yeah?”

Committing Alessia’s returned grin to memory, you let yourself be pulled into the chaos of the locker room, excited to see what the season would hold, not only for you, but the team and the endearing blonde that you got to call yours.

#alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo #fluff #my writing #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso community #arsenal wfc x reader #fic req #woso #iktylm

509 notes · View notes

comradekatara · 2 months

Text

okay, so I did just spend the entire day watching NATLA. I had no choice but to watch this all in one sitting with my friends because I knew that if I attempted to watch it alone, or in increments, I would simply never get past episode 1. and I was right. it, of course, sucked so bad. I intend to write an actual, articulate review of the show as a whole when I have time, but for now, here is a list of the notes I jotted down on my phone (including some quotes from my friends as we watched), cinema sins style (pluses indicate details I actually liked, however minuses are far more frequent; points I considered especially significant are bolded).

– NO COLON to signify the central tension of the entire show!!!

Episode 1:

+ Love Aang’s eyebrows, just a very cute kid in general

+ opening fight scene kind of serves

– Sozin does NOT

– This clunky exposition is so strange considering they clearly already assume we are familiar with the entire show

– What’s going on with Kyoshi (ie, where is Roku)

– Where is Katara narrating????

– Hideous fonts

+ AANG SO CUTE <3 (he’s giving Dewey!)

– He can just fucking fly without his glider I guess?

– Airbenders saying wow at airbending (ding!)

– Aang’s uggs

– Sky bison…… L (update: I lowkey came around on Appa, but only bc Momo was so fucking busted he looked incredible by contrast)

– Gyatso’s mustache L (update: many such cases going forward)

– What’s going on with the accents???

– Aang cannot fucking act for shit I’m so sorry to this adorable baby boy

– Depicting a literal genocide as an action scene. Fucking awful

– Aang actually trying to head back during the storm defeats the whole point of the whole inciting incident of his entire arc????

+ Waterbending Avatar State sequence in the storm actually looks cool

– I hate White Sokka

– I hate shein Katara

– They do NOT act like siblings

– I hate White Sokka

– Where is Katara I miss you baby girl

– ZUKO’S SCAR IS AWFUL

– Katara has no agency or passion or rage or emotion whatsoever?!!?!?

– Acting is SO BAD

+ Clunky exposition works for Zuko because he does have a propensity for monologuing all his intentions

– Sokka, however, does NOT

– How can Sokka be “the last man” of the Southern Water Tribe if there are like. Dozens of other guys only ever so slightly younger than him just standing around.

– Kanna just saying Katara’s monologue because Katara is a nothing

– WHY DO FIREBENDERS KEEP ATTACKING AT NIGHT

– Clunky ass exposition “he had to grow up fast” give me a fucking break

– Who the fuck is this white guy

– Katara has no motivations at all?? She’s just chopped liver I guess

– The cadence of every actor is so bad

– They can’t decide whether they want to be the cartoon or their own thing and instead they’re just nothing

Episode 2:

– KANNA JUST GIVES HER THE SCROLL?!?!? KATARA DOESNT GET TO SHOPLIFT. OR DO ANYTHING

– MILF ALERT!!!!

– I hate you straight nepobaby suki

– She’s so fucking weird

– White Sokka has a bad face and a good body. He should have a strikingly beautiful face and a scrawny, malnourished body. L

– Aang being afraid to airbend makes no sense

– Where is Sokka’s fucking Kyoshi Warrior feminization!!!!

– Sexist ass show

– STOP IT KYOSHI STOOOOPPPPP #NotMyKyoshi

Episode 3:

– This one rebel leader guy is giving Katara more than Katara

– Why are the colors so bland

– Sokka being scientifically minded makes no sense bc that trait (which, um, is actually quite crucial to his character) hasn’t actually been established at all up until this point (or retained beyond this one episode)

– This guy is giving jock who happens to be good at engineering, when Sokka should be a NERD who HAPPENS to be good at FIGHTING

– Azula and Mai are NOT GIVING

– Azula should present as sure of herself and incredibly poised. It’s actual crucial to reflecting how she has been shaped by abuse

– And Mai should be razor sharp (both physically and figuratively) and not give a fuck about any of this!!!

+ Katara hitting herself in the face was funny

– Redemption for beautiful Jet (my friend: “I love seeing a beautiful man die”)

– Freedom Fighters are GIVINGGG

– How can Kya “watch the sun rise every day” if they literally live in the South Pole

– They don’t understand Sokka’s daddy issues AT ALL. The simple fact that he’s actually communicating them is egregious

– The first time Katara actually gets angry is for Jet. But not even for the right reasons.

– The first exchange that Katara and Sokka have that makes any sense is in ep THREE (of 8)

– “Sokka was right. You are the bad guy.” WHO WROTE THIS 😭😭

– Jet is only going after the corrupt and collaborators…. So, um… he’s literally right???

+ The fight between Aang and Zuko is actually SO GOOD and understands their dynamic (sidenote: they’re the only kids who are actually giving their original characters at all)

+ Aang reading Zuko’s diary is so fucking funny

+ I love you Danny Pudi <3

Episode 4:

+ I love the interior of Bumi’s palace. Statues of Flopsy

– Omashu is in India now I guess and also everyone in the world lives here

– Bumi’s hat!?!?

+ The nomads sound like Fleet Foxes

– Katara and Sokka are literally switching roles in this tunnel

+ This one Earth Kingdom soldier is really serving.

– The fact that he’s ostensibly framed as in the wrong here though is INSANE

– Zuko is supposed to be ten here 😭 that’s a grown ass man with a BA in Econ

– Sokka’s necklace is plastic

– Katara and Sokka being like “we never used to fight at home” ……. WTF!?!?

– KATARA WOULD NEVER SAY THAT TO SOKKA SHE WOULD BEAT HIS ASS INTO THE GROUND EVEN IF HE WAS RIGHT

– Adults keep being so mean to Aang :((

+ Zuko’s hair is great

+ I like that Bumi gave Aang his bison whistle(?)

– Bumi’s anger is….interesting

Episode 5:

– Canonically 13 year old Zuko is also a grown ass man

– “How was I supposed to know she was a Fire Nation soldier” ummmmmm maybe due to your INSTINCTS and CONSTANT PARANOIA

– They keep alluding to escapades offscreen without actually depicting any of their grounded bonding moments so we have no reason to care about any of these characters whatsoever or their relationships with one another

– Sokka good with kids and names??? Preposterous

– Zuko kinda gay asf

– Zuko calling someone an idiot and Sokka never once does . Sounds fake

– Oppressed peoples are just a mouthpiece for oppression instead of real human beings

– Instragram ass makeup

– Aang isn’t having any fun

– Aang feels like he has no agency whatsoever because he only ever does what the adults around him tell him to do and never does anything of his own accord. Let him have a sillygoofy time!!!

– Constant clunky exposition and no understanding of its own narrative… it’s truly like if ATLA … was LOK.

+ JUUUUNE

– Hitting on Iroh for #feminism

– “I always thought I was spiritually attuned. I don’t know how he got in here though” is actually so Katara. Finally an actual Katara moment

– Wan Shi Tong goofy asf Guardians of Ga’Hoole ass CGI monstrosity

– What is with Sokka’s fucking white people references (all you need is love, bye bye birdie, etc). White devil I need him dead

– Sexy Kitsune for the furries

– Fox accuses him of making jokes to deflect “What? I don’t do that” WELL. HE DOESNT IN THIS VERSION!!! (Alluding to a character trait that they don’t actually depict is crazy. He literally says everything he’s feeling at all times in this and barely ever says anything witty. It’s like they’re TAUNTING us.)

– Kya sounds like she’s from the Upper East Side

– Why won’t they let Katara DO anything!!!

– Too economical with their storytelling leads to no real depth whatsoever

– Putting Katara’s flashback in Book 1 undermines the whole point of TSR

– I HATE YOU WHITE HAKODA

– If Sokka is so bad at ice dodging in this then why did they give him the mark of the wise ??????? None of this scene makes sense

– Why is Sokka CRYING (he doesn’t DO that)

– Koh looks so bad

– Aang doesn’t actually know how to fight Koh he’s just such a wooden actor that he happens to get away with it

– First Roku mention????? Lmfao

– Gyatso talking to Aang is so wack but at least he’s being nice to him

Episode 6 (aka the best episode by far):

+ Zuko just drawing an eye on the page is so real actually

– Azula’s flames aren’t even blue

– And she’s not mysterious or imposing at all!

– I HATE the makeup in the show

– The pacing is AWFUL and STUPID, no consideration as to WHY information is revealed when it is narratively/thematically

+ Okay he’s really giving Zuko lmfao

+ Ken Leung has made Zhao feel like a real person (but no one else is doing that ???)

– Low-budget fantasy C-dramas have costumes one million times better than this.

– What is with Iroh’s obsession with boats

– Quirked up old man Roku

– Zuko flashbacks don’t read as significant because his scar is nothing and he’s the same age

+ Aang and Zhao scene is great

+ I’d follow Zhao into battle

– Other friend: “This is the best episode so far and it’s because Katara and Sokka aren’t in it”

+ Blue Spirit mask actually looks like a theater mask

+ Using the original Blue Spirit theme!!

+ This episode actually slays

– Their commentary on narrativization is solely relegated to Zhao and no one else gets to participate in this thematic conversation, not even KATARA

+ I love the sassy gay scribe

+ LADDERS SCENEEEEE

+ Zuko canonically having good handwriting is so real

+ Aang and Zuko conversation is great

– Why does Aang keep assuming Zuko is compassionate and wounded when he hasn’t displayed any compassion, remorse, or pain

– Iroh stepping into the Agni Kai goes against his whole character

+ Ozai kind of rules tho

– WHY IS ZUKO ACTIVELY FIGHTING OZAI!!!!!!!!

– Zuko’s backstory makes no sense

+ Zuko’s thotty little collarbone

– Ozai’s scene here undermines the whole point of Zuko’s banishment

– Such bad dialogue it’s crazy

– How do the 41st division not know why they’ve been on this boat for the past 3 years when every piece of dialogue in this show is otherwise expository as fuck

– What’s the point of Gyatso leaving. They don’t explain it at all

Episode 7:

– The NWT is so grey and underwhelming. My favorite location in the whole show. Can’t have shit in Netflixworld.

– BECAUSE AANG JUST HAS VISIONS OF THE FUTURE NOW I GUESS

– PAKKU AND YUE LOOK SOOOOO BAD

– Yue looks like a Euphoria character in a party city wig

– This isn’t how Azula fights!!!

– I hate what they’re doing with Azula so bad

– Mai sucks too

– Their journey doesn’t feel earned at all because they didn’t hang out or learn anything or do shit

– Why is Yue in the kitchens if she’s a princess

– And why is she WATERBENDING

– Why isn’t she repressed!!!!! She shouldn’t BE “ordinary”

– Why is Sokka explaining his duties!!!! He doesn’t SAY SHIT!

– Why isn’t the guy playing Hahn playing Sokka and vice versa (I’m so fucking serious)

– YUE’S A FOX????? WHAT

– All the offscreen battles where we’re supposed to assume character development actually happened. Sure.

– Hahn being nice and respectful to Sokka makes no sense

– MILF Yugoda! (How would she know Kanna. Update: I guess that doesn’t even matter here )

– THEY DONT UNDERSTAND YUE OR HAHN OR WHAT PATRIARCHY IS. AT ALL

– Kuruk is too serious and Roku is too playful. It should be the reverse. Playing into racist tropes :/

– His eyes are way too blue I’m sorry to this man

– They all look like they know what iPhones are.

– Yue is so annoying . L

– This whole Yue Sokka scene is the most annoying thing I’ve ever fucking seen in my life. And entirely antithetical to their whole deal

– “My friends” this “my friends” that, except they never actually hang out. They just keep calling each other friends but they never actually show it in a believable way.

– They want to be edgy but they actually never fucking shut up about the power of friendship like we are all five years old. I think when they said they were “appealing to a Game of Thrones audience” what they really meant was just that they are also bad, incredibly misogynistic writers who depict sensitive topics without any care or nuance.

– I actually like the Fire Nation boats

– Zhao is working with Azula??? She wouldn’t KILL THE MOON

– Azula would never ask Ozai to do things she would wait for his command at all times!!!

– Since when is Sokka wise and emotionally mature enough to hold this conversation with Katara, and why isn’t Katara being impulsive. This fight is so planned out; all the excitement is lost.

– Her completely blank expression as Pakku humiliates her. I hate you SHEIN KATARA!!!!!!

– This fight is so dull and lame whereas in the original that fight scene literally changed my life as a kid????? #NotMyKatara

– “The Legend of Aang” EW

– Why isn’t Aang waterbending at all. Book 1: “talking about water in completely abstract, hypothetical terms”

Episode 8:

– Iroh telling Zuko how to break into the North Pole is undermining the one moment where he actually demonstrates his intelligence as an independent person

– Stupid ass liberal feminism I hate you

– So they are sexist but also not. Makes sense

– What the fuck is with this moon backstory shit. Who needed that

– Zhao going to the Fire Temple instead of Wan Shi Tong’s Library for info on the moon completely undermines the point about the role of knowledge in imperialist conquest

– Kuruk looks like a Star Wars force ghost

+ THEY KILLED MOMO (kind of made me laugh a lot, so… points for that I guess)

– But they could only feature him for all of five seconds bc they don’t have the budget to constantly animate his mangy rat ass

– Why is Yue helping MOMO instead of ACTUAL HUMAN BEINGS

– They want me to believe that White Sokka has compassion for that little rat when I simply do not believe that this man cares for anyone or anything or even has a soul.

+ Zuko and Aang’s situationship/chemistry is crazy. They’re both kind of slaying actually

– That said, the kid who plays Aang is not a very good actor, he’s just adorable and has big ears and a Dewey voice. And the kid who plays Zuko has the easiest acting job in the show because Zuko is actually so over the top and dramatic that overacting feels authentic to this one character in particular (and no one else).

– Bending fights look stupid and feel thematically insignificant

– This red filter looks so bad

– Why do they keep dragging out fast paced scenes to explain everything so that they’re now boring af

– Hahn is just……. Okay go off woke feminist king. Sure. Why not

– All the exposition is so clunky and slow and undermining the actual point of the scene

– Not only is this not visually interesting, it also doesn’t translate tonally, and the primary actors can’t pull it off

– So NOW Iroh kills Zhao. Okay

– Zhao wouldn’t respect a teenage girl this much, even if she is the princess

– Koizilla looks bad :(

– RIP Ken Leung the Cunt Slayer. 5ever in our hearts </3

+ It’s actually so funny that Ken Leung apparently didn’t even know what he was auditioning for because he was by far the best actor in this show and nearly singlehandedly redeemed it. I love this guy so much.

– Me: “This isn’t a show. This is a farcical simulacrum of real art.” Friend, far more concisely: “This is a fucking joke.”

– Katara and Sokka barely even seem like they care about each other. Look at how they massacred by boy (and girl)

– Yue and Sokka alluding to fucking offscreen WOULD be a slay if they weren’t both annoying as fuck…

– Oh so NOW Katara talks Aang down from the Avatar State. Yeah. I buy that.

– “You’re not just the Avatar you’re my family” really? Because you’ve barely even talked

– The sequencing and pacing of the Siege of the Noth was nonsensical.

– “My daughter always made her own choices” NO SHE FUCKING DIDNT!!!!! THE WHOLE POINT OF HER CHARACTER. WAS THAT SHE COULDN’T!!! Shallow fucking libfem bullshit they MASSACRED my girl!!!!!!

– Why is Arnook comforting Sokka when Sokka should be comforting HIM

– Also Sokka would never express his insecurities to Arnook in the first place. NOT MY REPRESSED KING????

– Why is Sokka giving emotional support and Katara giving tactical support -_-

– They really think that “Gotta let go of the past to have a future” is such a fucking smart line they used it twice

– Conquering Omashu wasn’t a STRATEGY it just happened CONCURRENTLY because their imperialist regime is incredibly powerful … This show doesn’t understand its own politics at all.

– Azula has no poise or swag smh

– Aang doesn’t even know about Sozin’s comet because Roku didn’t tell him…

– It’s crazy that a show written in the 2020s is actually SO MUCH more sexist than a show written in the 2000s.

– TDLR; I hate you capitalism, I hate you Netflix, I hate you White Sokka, I hate you SHEIN Katara, I hate you heterosexual nepobaby Suki, I hate you girlboss Yue, I hate you visibly insecure Azula, I hate you whatever is going on with Mai, I hate you CGI Momo, I hate you wack ass pacing, I hate you clunky, idiotic dialogue, I hate you complete and utter lack of consideration into what made this show great in the first place, I love you Danny Pudi, I love you Ken Leung.

Which, in fairness, is all pretty much exactly what I expected this show would be. But at least actually watching it did indeed verify all my assumptions (although what they did to Katara specifically was even worse than what I had assumed, dear god), so I will be writing up a more in-depth review soon so that I can actually try to unpack why this show is such a dumpster fire, and how that reflects larger trends in media. But for now, all I can say is, I can’t believe I sat through 8 hours of this fucking garbage knowing it would be bad and it was. I’ve been saying this show would suck ass since the second it was announced, and yet it somehow managed to still prove worse than even my incredibly pessimistic expectations. A soulless, shallow, offensive work of profit that cannot even attempt to justify its own existence. I need to kill White Sokka with hammers.

#natla #‘’spoilers’’ under the cut #lmfao #in the immortal words of bloodbenderz: ‘it was bad’

162 notes · View notes

anama-cara · 5 months

Text

Bargaining

dark!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Bargaining Masterlist

Summary: You try to bargain your virginity for your family’s safety. Word count: 1.8k

Warnings for full fic: 18 + mdni , Dubious consent, virginity loss, unsafe p in v, mentions of STDs, pet names, dark, age gap, survivalism, I do Not condone this. Reader is in her early 20’s, Joel is in his 40’s. Reader’s inner thoughts are in italics. This is my first fic, please give feedback.

“Wait. I can give you something else. My virginity.”

He raises an eyebrow.

---

Joel Miller, the infamous raider, stands before you. He and his band of men control these parts, and they provide “protection” from clickers and other raiders in exchange for a monthly payment. Your household (its just you and your younger brother) usually give them a large basket full of vegetables. But this month something, maybe a gopher or a deer, tore up your garden, eating everything. You had nothing else to give. When Joel’s men had broken down your door you begged them, told them you’d give them double next month. They threatened to take your brother instead, put him to work. And then Joel strode through the front door, filing the doorway with his large form. He wore a red flannel, thick tan leather jacket, heavy boots and tight jeans with his knee cocked out and his hands on his hips.

“What’s taking so long in here? There trouble?” He asked his men. They nodded to you and Joel’s gaze shifted to you. An intense gaze, one that made your knees weak and your chin tremble. You swallowed and pulled yourself together.

“I’m sorry, an animal destroyed our crops. We can forage and plant again. I promise next month we will pay double.”

He shook his head sadly and your stomach dropped.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t go around making exceptions, even for someone as pretty as you.”

One of his men stepped forward and made to grab your brother’s arm. Pretty? Maybe there was another way.

“Wait. I am still a virgin. I’m unused. I have no diseases, which is good because out here if you get sick you could die,” you ramble, shifting your weight from foot to foot.

“I’m clean. I’ve never been touched by a man. And I wouldn’t just be giving you sex, or safe sex, or my virginity, I’d be giving you a piece of me, my dignity, my identity, my soul.”

He grins wickedly at that so you plow ahead. He likes to have power, you can read it in his face, so you use it to your advantage.

“I’d be yours, claimed, forever marked by you, by my first time. Yours to ruin. Yours to torment, yours to degrade, yours to fuck, yours to fill. You can stretch me out and when your cum is dripping down my thighs and I am reduced to a sweating, sobbing, shaking mess on the floor - striped of my dignity and humanity, then you can proudly sit back and see your power. How you’ve ruined someone, claimed them, destroyed them, owned them.”

Damn you’re really trying to sell this. He has to take bait, you can’t let them take your brother.

You have his undivided attention, his eyes never left yours throughout your whole monologue. He seems surprised and a little impressed by your unexpected language. Now that you’ve said your piece, finished begging, he breaks eye contact. He shamelessly looks you up and down like he’s inspecting a horse to buy. He says nothing but gives one curt nod.

You loosen a sigh of relief. Your brother would be safe. You turned to face him, you had been standing a step in front of him, protecting him with your body. You knelt down and put a hand on his check. “Go upstairs, and don’t come down till I tell you. Okay?” You tell him softly. He nods silently and heads for the staircase in the corner of the room. You straighten up and turn to face Joel again. There’s something on his face, almost like a sad understanding as he watches your brother leave.

“Alright sweetheart, where do you wanna do this?” He asks gruffly in his thick Texan accent.

Oh god this is really happening.

“N-not upstairs.” Is all you manage to get out. Your mind seems to be going blank with the anxiety and shock of what’s about to happen. When you don’t move or say anything else he just nods and grabs your hand, pulling you from the main room where all his men remain, rifling through your things. He pulls you through a door and into the kitchen. He closes the door and pushes a chair underneath the doorknob, jamming it.

“Don’t want anyone interrupting us.” He smirks at your widened eyes. “You know sweetheart, you sure do have a filthy mouth. Saying all those things.” He’s shaking his head. He finally lets go of your hand to take a step back and look you over again greedily. Nothing soft remains in his eyes now. No, the only thing you see is a predator. His hungry eyes devour you. All the warning bells are going off in your head, every instinct telling you to kick him in the crotch and run. But you know you can’t, because although you know you could probably outrun this big guy, there are too many of them, and your brother is upstairs. So, you take a deep breath, loosen your fists and accept you fate. He notices the little movement. He notices everything.

“Ready sweetheart?”

You give a small nod, still unable to speak. You’re afraid of how small your voice will sound. You will not appear weak in front of him. You hold your chin higher and meet his stare.

The corner of his lips pull up in a wicked grin. “Good.”

And then he moves, and he’s so fast you don’t even know what’s happening until you’re pushed up against the kitchen island. With a broad hand he pushes you down and pins you between your shoulder blades. He’s got you bent over face down on the counter. Your breasts are pressed against the cold granite and your nipples harden against it. He presses into you from behind and you can feel his considerable bulge. With one boot he hooks your foot and slides it out, spreading your legs further for him. You hear the metal clanging as he undoes his belt and lowers his zipper. You don’t turn to look. There’s no need, you know he'll be big. With his cock freed he closes the gap between you, leaning further into you.

Shit. This will be painful.

He's even larger than you thought. You feel his hard cock behind you, pressing against your ass and the small of your back. His head tilts and you feel his hot breath on the curve of your neck. His lips glide over your shoulder. “So soft.” He inhales deeply, smelling your hair. “Mmmm.” With one hand he reaches up and grabs at your breast roughly. He can feel your hardened nipple through the thin fabric of the dress. He lets out a low growl and gropes you harder. You can feel his breathing getting faster. He reaches back down to pull your dress up above your ass. It bunches around you hips.

“Hold this sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear. You obey, grabbing the bunched up fabric with one hand and bracing yourself on the counter with the other. He pulls back, and pulls your underwear down to your ankles. One hand moves to your hip, keeping you in place. With his other hand wrapped around the base of his cock he notches at your entrances and pushes in half way. White hot pain flashes through you. He’s so big and your body was not prepared for him. He pulls out almost all the way and pushes in again, all the way, hips snapping. Searing pain, he is splitting your insides apart. You hiss in pain.

“Sorry sweetheart, didn’t say this was gonna be nice for you. Remember this is your payment. Take it.”

He chuckles darkly and slams into you again. You shake your head.

No, no no no, it’s too much.

You can’t breathe. You feel a trickle of blood run down the inside of your thigh. Your hips dig into the countertop and you know there with be a line of bruising left on your skin. You’ll have bruising on the side of your hips too, his fingers are griping you so tightly.

“That’s a good little virgin. So fucking tight. Relax sweetheart. Don’t fight it.” He grunts. “I know your pussy will want it anyways.”

He sets up a rapid pace, slamming into you roughly with each thrust. It’s dry and painful and you hate it. Hate him. But after a few minutes when your body has adjusted you begin to loosen a bit. You still hate Joel, hate this man who runs these lands like he owns them. But you can’t deny that your body has stopped protesting. So you try to drown out the obscene sounds of skin slapping and his grunting behind you. You let your mind travel far away and forget that it is Joel behind you.

You’re not sure how much time has passed, but you feel a change behind you, the hot breaths on your shoulder blades are uneven and the pace is different, slower and deeper. He lets out a pained moan then pulls out of you, there’s a seconds pause then you feel hot liquid spill over you. It hits the small of your back in ropes and drips onto your ass. He sighs deeply from behind you. You finally turn to look at him. He’s staring your body, satisfaction on his face as he watches his cum drip down you. You whip your head back around before he can catch your eye.

There’s silence as he watches you and catches his breath. Finally, he reaches down and pulls your underwear back up. He takes the dress out of your grip and tugs it down. He runs his hands over your waist and ass, smoothing the fabric and feeling you up. One rests at the small of your back and presses the dress into the wetness there, letting to fabric soak it up and stick to you. He grins.

“Alright sweetheart.”

He gives your ass a smack then lets go of you. You push up and raise yourself off from the counter, resting on your elbows. He says nothing else as he moves to the door, unwedges the chair and opens the door. He looks back at you. You’re still leaning against the counter for support. He eyes your shaking legs, your ruffed up hair, your wrinkled wet dress. “See you next month.”

You’re in shock. That’s it? You don’t move as he leaves and whistles for his men to follow. You don’t move till you hear the front door slam behind them. Then you sink to the kitchen floor.

You don’t understand, Joel is infamous for being violent and cruel. You know that could have been much worse, that he could have beat you, that he could have passed you around to his men afterwards. But he just left. Suddenly you feel grateful. Then you silently curse yourself for it, reminding yourself that even though it could have been worse it was horrible that it ever happened in the first place. That someone threatened your family, that they took something from you. That they acted like they owned the place. You grit your teeth. No, the only thing you’re grateful for is the fact that it’s over. You stand on your shaky legs and reach for a kitchen towel. You call out for your brother, letting him know that they’re gone and he’s safe. You clean yourself up and you hear his little feet running down the stairs. He bursts into the room and flies at you in a hug. “Your big sis took care of it. I’ll always protect you remember. It’s okay. It’s over.” You pat his back and comfort him.

See you next month.

#raider!joel #raider!JoelMiller #dark!joel miller #dark!joel x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #dark!joel #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #virgin!reader #virginity loss #joel tlou #tlou #tlou fanfiction #dark joel miller #dark!joel miller x reader #dark!joel miller smut #raider!joel miller x fem!reader

149 notes · View notes

currentfications · 6 months

Text

Ocean Eyes | Part 7

Pairing: Bada Lee x Producer!Reader

Synopsis: Battle Performance

Warning: Swearing, Suggestive Content

AN: Sorry it took me so long to get this one out, catching up on work and writer’s block is getting the best of me :( hope y’all like this one ^_^

Previous | Next

“Oh my god,” Minah squealed in excitement when the crew member delivered their lunch along with a bouquet of blue baby breaths. “These fans are really something, how’d they get around the security?”

Since the filming of the show, members of team BEBE had seen an influx of recognition, which had brought much joy to the dancers, who’s no longer overshadowed by the idols they usually work with. To the surprise of the girls, a blush tinted their team leader’s face as she stride across the room, reaching her hands out to take the bouquet off the brunette.

“Wait-” Minah whined as Bada held the bouquet up high, out of her reach, “-there’s a card, I wanna see what the fans wrote.”

“Nuh-uh,” Bada tutted, plucking the card from the middle of the bouquet. “Pretty sure this is only meant for my eyes.”

Ever the pot-stirrer, Tatter’s eyes lit up at the commotion. “Ohoho, pretty sure the blue flowers were meant for BEBE, unless you’re expecting a special delivery all for yourself?”

Bada was taken aback by the sudden intuitiveness from the girls, and at herself for accidentally letting it slip. Not that the girls would have any qualm with her little… fling, but she thought she had kept you two’s secret well. In the brief moment of Bada’s hesitation, the duo successfully ripped the card stock off their team leader’s fingers, giggling amongst themselves as they ran off to a corner.

“Dear team BEBE-”

Bada found herself exhaling a sigh of relief when she heard Minah reading out the first line of the card that it hadn’t been anything explicit- like a certain audio file that took up way too much storage in her head- only to immediately feel a small ping of disappointment that it wasn’t anything more. With that feeling, she immediately scolded herself for not sharing the excitement with the girls- after all, the whole point of this competition is to win as a team, right? It’s only natural that the gift was delivered to them as a group. With all that internal monologuing going on, Bada was not paying any attention to Minah’s reading of the rest of the card until Tatter popped up in front of her face.

“Why the long face?” With a knowing grin plastered on her face, Tatter decided to further press on the matter. After all it is highly unusual for their team leader to not be thoroughly celebrating the team’s success. Tatter narrowed her eyes at Bada’s silence. Suspicious, she’s decided.

Bada waved off the inquisitive look, plopping herself back onto the couch in the BEBE team room. She was just about to overthink herself into oblivion before recalling a certain conversation with you, pulled out her phone, and texted you instead. After all, you did tell her you don’t play games, and she highly doubts you’ll start trying to make her jealous for no good reason right before their Battle Performance.

Meanwhile in the Jam Republic team room, the four other girls are still getting their makeup and hair done by the makeup artists, while Latrice had entrusted you to perfect her curls.

“How’d I look?” Latrice spun around, brandishing a smile with her white top. You gently whacked her shoulder, spinning her back around so you can finish curling the last few segments of her hair.

Once you finished your handiwork, you guided her in front of the mirror, securing the last braid with an elastic. “Looking good, mama,” you gave her shoulders a tight squeeze, proud that your friend made it this far along in an international competition.

Latrice gleaned at your reflections. “I’m glad you’re here too, I’ve missed home so much these few months,” wetness started gathering in her eyes, and you quickly pulled out a tissue to dab at the corners of her eyes before her makeup needed to be redone.

“Then go,” you encouraged while patting her back, “take a break after today’s mission, I’ll book you a ticket for tonight.” You noticed that she’s lost weight since beginning filming the show- not only her actually, but almost every cast member. You made a mental note to check on Bada later. “The show can wait, so what if they don’t have enough footage- Harimu can probably fill up the whole run time with her personality alone.”

Latrice chuckled at the thought of Ms. Hype taking on more endorsements, she does have the perfect charisma for the job. “You reckon the rest of the team will be okay with that?” Latrice’s brows cinched together in worry, not wanting to become a burden to the group. You rolled your eyes at her silliness and pulled out your phone to book her a ticket. Of course the Jam Republic girlies are not going to have a problem with this, they all know that the show is just that, a show, and mental health needs to be prioritized over anything else.

A notification came through as you were finalizing the flight ticket- Bada had messaged you. You swiped the notification back up to finish the task at hand, forwarding the booking to Latrice. “There,” you turned your phone screen towards her, “now go slay the house down and I’ll pack your bags for you.”

“Thank you for that,” Latrice cooed, appreciative of the initiatives you’ve always taken with her. The door to the team room unlocked and the other Jam Republic members trickled in, and Latrice announced her departure to the group, earning a few understanding hums and sympathetic hugs from the team as you began to pack away a few items from the room you knew she’d need for the trip home.

Once the filming crew entered the room, you took a seat next to the staff members, making sure that you’re out of sight before the recording began. The energy in the back stage was buzzing as the muffled sound of the crowd slowly got louder with audiences pouring in. Brimming with excitement, the youngest of the pink team gave you a nervous smile, to which you responded with two thumbs up as a silent ‘you got it’ gesture.

Turning your attention to your phone, you pulled up the message from Bada.

Lovely 🩵: Where’s my flowers for good luck 🙁

You chuckled at the message, she sounded cute when she’s jealous.

Y/N: Wanted to give them to you myself, come to JR’s team room when you get the chance?

As the crowd erupted into cheers, you realized that your timing might’ve been a little off, as MC Daniel Kang announced the first pair of battlers. You sat back in your seat, watching intensely at the viewfinder, anticipating BEBE’s (Bada’s) performance.

When the camera zoomed in at a cheekily grinning Bada crouching off the stage, you let out a soft giggle at the sight. The giggles were quickly replaced by silence as the performance continued Bada peeked through the prop table, eventually leaning onto the table with one knee propped up, her tongue poking through the hollow of her cheeks. It’s such an innocent habit to have your thoughts thinking about anything but innocent. Which is probably why you were only absentmindedly watching WolfLo’s performance, definitely not because of the red smeared down Bada’s abs.

Latrice stole a glance at you as soon as that scene took place. She had seen it during their practice shoots, and had wondered how you would react to it. Watching your unfazed expression, she really wonders how the hell you always keep that poker face on, and where she can sign you up to play at Vegas next.

Truth is, you would be screeching and kicking your feet if there wasn’t filming around.

When Jam Republic were asked to get on stage next, you gave each one of them a firm hug and a kiss on the cheek before ushering them through the door. “Slay mamas,” you leaned against the door frame as they walked down the hall, round the corner, and disappeared from your line of sight.

As you were about to walk back into the room, a bloody hand grabbed you by the wrist. You almost threw your assailant over your shoulder before you heard the familiar voice. “You ignored my message,” a pout tugged at the corner of Bada’s lips as she shot puppy dog eyes at you, “didn’t know you’re the type to hit it and quit it.”

You smiled at her adorable frown, tilting her face up by her chin and planted a swift peck on her forehead. “Sorry, had something going on. You wanna come in?”

Bada shook her head, raising her stained red hands. “Gotta get these off before they stain me a permanent shade of pink,” she hesitated before continuing, “want to help me get them off?” Your bluntness must’ve definitely rubbed off on the dancer.

“Sure,” you tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ears, “let me finish Latrice’s stage and I’ll catch you in the changing room?”

Bada nodded and hummed, shuffling her way down the hall.

You finished packing a travel bag for Latrice in between jam Republic’s performances, a handy skill from the many times you had to pack a quick bag to leave home in the middle of the night, just in time to watch the vote counts. To your dismay, LadyBounce took the win with the audiences.

“Fuck them, if they don’t appreciate you guys I will,” was the first thing that came out of your mouth when the girls re-entered the room before you handed the Latrice and Kirsten a towel each. “I’ve packed your to-go bag, use my stuff when you get home,” you tossed Latrice your room keys as you made your way out the team room with a towel and a bouquet in hand. Latrice mouthed a ‘thank you’ as you waved her goodbye.

“Where’s she heading off in a rush?” Ling asked as the duo dried themselves, “with towel and flowers nonetheless?”

Glancing at the camera propped up in the corner of the room, Latrice shot a suggestive look at Ling instead. Luckily Mnet doesn’t have the legal right to film and distribute your likeness. “Someone else needs a towel.” It took Ling a second, but her eyes eventually widened as realization kicked in. “Glad she’s enjoying Korea I guess-”

“More like Korean cuisine,” Emma interjected, erupting into a fit of laughter.

Walking towards the changing room, you ignored the Jam Republic girls’ muffled cackling, knowing that there’s a good chance they’re teasing you. They were. But you didn’t really care as you had one important goal in mind as your pace quickened towards the door down the hall.

“You still need help?” You tapped your knuckles on the wooden door. You could hear some shuffling around in the room before the door creaked open, Bada peeking out at you with red smeared on her face.

Opening the door wider to let you into the room and locking the door behind you with a click, “definitely,” she muttered, as the red paint had taken over more than half of her upper body. You chuckled at the sight, Bada looking like an early Halloween decoration.

“Peonies for good luck,” you handed the bouquet to her before wetting a corner of the towel with a bottle of water you presumed is hers, judging by the red hand print covering the lid.

Bada tossed a wink at you.

“Peonies huh,” you turned around to Bada inches away from your face, “you know they don’t only mean good luck.”

Stealing a quick peck while she was pressed up against you, “hold still.” Your words sent chills down Bada’s spine, and she’s certain that it’s not caused by your usual icy tone- she’d gotten used to that by now.

“Or what?” Reveling in the victory, the dancer is feeling cheekier than usual. The corner of her lips curled up with mischievous intent before she bit down on her lower lips, looking through her lashes at you with ulterior motives.

“Or-” you paused to take a good look at her, drinking in the sight. Her hair messy from the dance off, strands cling onto her face with sweat. Streaks of red ran down her neck, trailing towards her sports bra, another set of handprints swiped across her abs. Tracing a red line on her throat towards her collarbone, stopping right above her sternum, you held her by the shoulder and guided her down to sit on the bench. Leaning forward, with a tone barely above a whisper, “-or you’ll be stained.” With the damp towel, you got to work wiping the ink off Bada, starting from her face.

Bada huffed in annoyance, rolled her eyes, and pulled you onto her lap by your lower waist. “Don’t be a tease,” her voice is now deep, laced with danger that almost mimicked yours.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish,” you continued to wipe off more streaks off her cheeks, working your way lower as you straddled yourself onto her lap.

“Who says I can’t?”

“Mnet,” you deadpanned. Tilting her chin up to work on her neck, you noticed her swallowing hard as you readjusted yourself on top of her.

Bada squinted at you through her lashes, endeared by your concentration in getting the stains off her, whilst simultaneously irritated by you not giving in.

It took every ounce of self control you have to pounce on her flawless skin.

All it took for you to break was a husky plea that escaped her plump lips, “… please?”

You glanced up at her flushed cheeks, gaze still fixated on your through her half lidded eyes, lower lip bitten red from her anxiety tics- fuck Mnet, they can have her back later, you can blame it on wardrobe malfunctions. Pressing your lips against the base of her neck, you gently nibbled a trail up her throat, relishing in the moans she gave out when you licked her sweet spots.

Gripping you by the hair, Bada hungrily pulled your lips into hers, sliding her tongue between your teeth in one fell swoop. Her lips tasted of the peach lip gloss MAC had applied on her. Being the biter that she is, Bada didn’t hesitate to give you a nip when you got distracted by her taste, demanding your full attention to tonguing her down. You complied and decided to kiss her stupid since she had asked so politely.

Bada parted from you after what felt like minutes, catching her breath as she leaned her forehead against yours, her taste still lingering on the top of your tongue. Her cheeky smile grew wider as you two just sat like that for a while, breathing each other in, “do we have time for round two?”

“Only if you sit still and let me clean the rest of you off,” you picked up the towel that had been discarded in the heat of the moment.

Tag list: @bada-lee-ily @lil-elliesgf @rubywonu @wiselight

#bada lee #swf2 #bada lee x reader #fanfic #swf2 x reader #bada lee x y/n #bada lee x fem reader #fluff

210 notes · View notes

luna-rainbow · 4 months

Text

Some of the other things that annoy me about that episode:

I really hate that they brought in the Red Room arc at the end. I know there’s a lot of criticism of that movie, but I still think it’s an important arc in Nat’s character. This, and Steve’s destruction of the ship, takes away Nat and Yelena’s agency in confronting the horrors of their childhood and regaining the Widows’ self-determination. Notably, neither Peggy nor this Nat was interested in helping the Widows. Why would they, Peggy didn’t want to help Bucky/Winter Soldier in episode 2, and she only wants to help Steve here cos he’s her toy and she gotta have him.

It doesn’t really make sense to me that Nat would be best buddies with her but I’ll put that down to things happening off screen. I’m still jaded about Sam’s utter omission but I think overall it’s better that his character isn’t ruined for this 🙈

One thing about that last exchange though. I can’t be bothered pulling it back up again but basically instead of the “end of the line” vow she gives a sobbing monologue about how she’s tired of all the fighting.

Now I think about it…this is so iconic, isn’t it? Steve wakes Bucky up from his brainwashing using Bucky’s promise of loyalty and self-sacrifice. His whole speech was telling Bucky who Bucky is — you’ve known me your whole life, you’re James Buchanan Barnes, you’re my friend. Steve knew this moment was about Bucky finding himself, and he knew once he did, Bucky would never hurt him.

And Saint Margaret takes the moment and makes it all about herself. I’m so sad and suffering 🥺 I’m so tired of fighting 🥺 Oh you fought Nazis for an extra 8 years after I left you and then got brainwashed and made to fight another 50 years? Sorry can’t hear you over the sound of my sobbing. She doesn’t respect him, the way Steve can look Bucky in the eye and call him a friend and equal. She doesn’t care about who Steve is or his suffering, what was most important in that moment was her own suffering. Because she was “finally supposed to have her fairytale ending” (was that in What If season 1 or is my brain making things up). It is so typical for her character but also exactly why this relationship, in any of its iterations, has been unfair to Steve.

#anti steggy #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #anti peggy carter #oh well i guess its anti peggy carter day today

94 notes · View notes

theharddeck · 1 year

Text

talk with my hands, maybe take it real slow (jake seresin x fem!reader)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader (no y/n)

Synopsis: Jake's roommate has a new tattoo and can't stop itching at it...what kind of friend would he be, if he didn't help distract her?

Warnings: this fic is 18+, minors please DNI – we go pretty quickly into smut, featuring the usual--explicit oral sex (both receiving, bc we're feminists like that), and then also PiV sex, including but not limited to, condescension, overstimulation (bc what's the point of fiction if we're not wringing multiple orgasms out of our self insert?) and creampies (do not have unprotected, unnegotiated sex pls)

Length: 7.8k

A/N: sorry about the moodboard being lacluster; I couldn't find a tattoo pic that wasn't on a size 0 thigh or white, so we went without

You hadn’t considered yourself to be a person with particularly awful self control, but then again, you’d never had a tattoo healing on your inner thigh, driving you mad with the need to scratch at it. It’d been 3 weeks since the appointment and your ink was probably 95% healed; the redness had faded entirely and a couple raised patches of roughness were all you had to show for the fact that it was new. Which somehow made the incessant need to itch all the more frustrating, because you were pretty sure it was mostly phantom at this point.

“Listen, honey, you gotta chill.” Jake’s voice interrupted your inner monologue, from his seat on the couch across the living room.

Your roommate had started in hard on the Southern pet names when he’d seen that they’d flustered you. Honestly, there was precious little the man wouldn’t do, if it meant making you unnerved. You two didn’t have what you’d call a friendship, but the playful Something between the two of you felt safe and fun. Even if it did mean that Jake seemed to take a little more pleasure than he should’ve, in the face of your pain.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you replied drily, “are the literal thousands of abrasions on my skin irritating you?”

Jake rolled his eyes at your melodrama. “I can feel you thinking from over here, and it’s taking up real estate that belongs to Maya Hawke,” he gestured to the TV where the latest season of Stranger Things was playing.

“It itches,” you mumbled, hearing the complaint in your voice and knowing it was pathetic, but too over it to care.

Jake cut you a long look, like he also heard it, and was embarrassed for you. “Want me to get you some ice?” he asked, and it was sweet of him to offer, but…

“We’re out of ice,” you sighed. “I went through the last two trays in, like, record time, and they’re refreezing now.”

“We have like fourteen trays,” Jake frowned.

“Yeah, well someone,” you paused meaningfully, “drastically depleted our resources when he decided to have a bourbon tasting over the weekend.”

Jake had the grace to look guilty for a moment. Then it was his turn to sigh dramatically, lifting his arm to the back of the couch and swatting at the cushion next to him. “Alright, kid, c’mere.”

In retrospect, you probably should’ve asked why, or at least deliberated for half a second before doing what he asked. In reality, you pushed off the settee you’d been lounging on, and flopped ungracefully onto the couch next to Jake. You shared a bathroom with the man and he’d seen you on the second day of your period; dignity was a distant memory.

Still, it didn’t prepare you for Jake pulling your legs apart with one of his large hands, and spreading his fingers over your tattoo, all while calmly turning up the volume of the TV with the remote in his other hand.

“Jesus, Jake,” you choked out, telling yourself the goosebumps erupting over your whole body were entirely because of your surprise, and not any other reason. “Buy a girl a drink first.”

Jake chuckled, somehow managing to shake his head at you while not looking away from the TV. “You’re the one who’s always telling me my hands are cold as ice.”

Had you said that?

It sounded like something you’d say.

But Jake’s hand on your leg felt anything but cold. Okay, no, if you separated your brain from—well, from anything—you could recognize that his fingers were quite cold, and it was incredibly soothing having them over you. His thumb was brushing lightly over your skin, while the rest of his hand stayed still, and you knew that ice cubes couldn’t do that, but damn, it would’ve been great if they could. You settled back into the couch, relaxing into the soft material and the relief brought by Jake’s hands.

It was a wonderful two minutes.

Good to know that that was how long it took for the fourth law of thermodynamics to kick in, and for Jake’s fingers to warm up after extended contact with your skin.

Then a new problem was presented—you couldn’t scratch at yourself without scratching him. You shifted slightly, to see if you could get any type of friction, but Jake’s touch was light enough that he moved with you. You snuck a glance at Jake’s profile, still fixed on the TV screen, and his expression could best be described as incredibly pleased with himself.

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” you muttered accusingly.

“Absolutely,” he said, smugly. “You could fidget up a storm over there, but here you have to just deal with it.”

You pressed your lips together to keep yourself from sticking your tongue out at him petulantly. You folded your hands in your lap, determined to ignore the rising propensity to scratch at yourself. At some point, you’d sunken into the couch until your shoulder was pressed against Jake’s arm, and you shifted so your cheek was resting against him too. His tshirt was soft, and he smelled clean, like a freaking linen candle, which was annoying, because it didn’t help clear the riotous tangle of thoughts rushing through your head.

You did stop fidgeting, though.

“Atta girl,” Jake said quietly, his thumb still moving over your thigh.

Was it hot in here?

It had to be hot in here.

Because this was Jake, your roommate, who’d never shown an ounce of interest in you, being calm as anything with his hand literally on your thigh, and saying things that would’ve sounded like come ons from anyone else.

You tried to focus on the TV, and whatever ridiculous shenanigans the children on it had found themselves in, pulling a deep breath through your nose.

(Immediate mistake, because of said linen candle bullshit).

On the TV, Nancy’s hair got frizzier, Steve’s life got shittier, and all the while your leg was getting itchier and itchier.

You reached to press a hand over the skin distractedly, forgetting momentarily that Jake’s hand was there until you encountered his fingers instead of your skin. He turned his hand over, his knuckles pressing against your skin while his fingers intercepted your own.

“Where’re you going?” he asked, voice lightly mocking, and you wrinkled your nose. It wasn’t fair that he wasn’t affected, his hands so close to your burning skin, and he still had the wherewithal to tease you for your poor impulse control.

“Jake,” you whined, trying to untangle your fingers, but his grip was unrelenting, “I’m not gonna scratch, okay, I just need to do something.”

He looked down at you, which you had to admit, was a hell of an experience when your head was practically on his shoulder.

He blinked slowly, looking at you closely before he opened his hands, letting your fingers go. You pulled your hand back, eyes closing in relief when you pressed them against your skin. It wasn’t as good as scratching, but the pressure helped, and you shifted your fingers—and your nail accidentally dragged against your skin.

Which was pretty much the worst thing that could happen, because it was like a tease and it shouldn’t have felt as good as it did, but you were half a second away from clawing up your thigh when Jake’s hand closed around your wrist again.

“Seriously?” he asked, amusement coloring his tone.

“Just let me,” you pleaded, trying to pull your wrist back. “It’ll take like two seconds and then it’ll hurt and I can stop.”

“You could also get infected or mess up the ink placement,” he said, and you stopped pulling for a moment.

“When did you learn so much about tattoo care?” you grumbled, and Jake chuckled again. It sounded different this close to him, deeper.

“When my roommate decided to mark up the inside of her leg,” he replied easily. “Now don’t you have a lotion or something you can put on this?”

“I do, but it doesn’t help,” you said, annoyed that he was right.

“Well, let’s at least try it, yeah?” Jake asked, and you rolled your neck, sighing.

“Fine,” you pushed yourself off the couch.

You felt Jake’s eyes following you to the bathroom, so you didn’t scratch at your leg, not wanting to hear more of his teasing. You found the jar of lotion, dropping back onto the couch as you unscrewed the lid.

“It’s just gonna be sticky and leave white marks on the couch,” you groused, looking confusedly over at Jake when he held his hand out. “What?”

“What do you mean, what,” he retorted, like it was obvious. “I’m not gonna let you do this; you have zero impulse control.”

You were too stunned to resist when he plucked the lotion out of your hands, dipping his fingers into the jar.

Had you said that the worst thing was an accidental nail brush against your tattoo?

That wasn’t true.

Because the actual worst thing was having to sit there, pretending everything was fine and normal, as your ridiculously hot roommate started spreading Aquaphor on your inner thigh.

Jake was nothing if not thorough, his long fingers smoothing the cool lotion over your skin, pressing slowly into you and fucking kneading into your thighs, but that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst of it was that he was entirely serious. Gone was the teasing condescension, the knowing look, and in its place was an unfamiliar gentleness.

Jake’s head was bent, some of his perfect hair falling in front of his eyes, as he properly tended to your leg like he was a nurse and these were doctor’s orders. Like he wanted to be absolutely careful as he looked after you, like looking after you was even something he did. You swallowed, forcing your breathing to remain even.

This was fine, this was normal.

This was absolutely not complicating the tenuous relationship the two of you had, and wasn’t causing you to read into the pet names, the caring, the fact that his big hand was literally between your legs.

He had to stop, or you had to stop, because now was not the time to be thinking risque things about your roommate, not when he was genuinely being sweet and trying to help.

“I think that’s good,” you said, hoping Jake couldn’t hear the tremor in your voice.

Jake tipped his head to the side, considering his work, then nodded to himself, satisfied. He rubbed his hands together, wiping the excess lotion on the backs of his knuckles, and screwed the lid of the jar back on. You were readjusting on the couch when he leaned across you to leave the jar on the coffee table and when he shifted back, one of you messed up, because his forearm brushed against your chest.

“Uh, sorry,” Jake said quickly, “I wasn’t—”

He was interrupted, of course.

Because you could tell yourself you were fine, everything was fine, all day long, but turns out that the slightest, accidental brush of Jake against your breasts had an ungodly whimper spilling out of your mouth before you could stop it.

He froze.

Shit.

“Shit,” you said aloud, hands covering your face in embarrassment, “no, I’m sorry, that wasn’t—uh, we can ignore that—I don’t know what’s going on with me, sorry to make it weird, it’s not your fault—”

You stopped babbling when Jake’s hands closed on your wrists, and, for the upteenth time that night, you let yourself be guided by him. When he pulled your hands away, your breath caught at how close he was, and the unfamiliar expression on his face as he looked between your eyes.

“I need to know right now,” he said, his voice serious as anything, “if you’re apologizing because you’re embarrassed, or because you didn’t mean it.”

You pressed your lips together, not trusting what sounds would come out of your mouth with Jake’s hands holding your wrists, and his eyes this intense. Whatever he read on your face had Jake’s lips parting, a shaking breath drawn in through them, before they thinned in a lazy smile.

“And here I thought I was the perv, taking any excuse to get my hands on you, darlin’, when you’ve been wanting me just as bad.”

Your jaw dropped at his blunt words, but what, were you going to say he was wrong?

Jake’s head cocked sideways when you didn’t say anything, and he guided your hands to the back of his neck, before letting go of them. Your fingers wound around his neck, the ends of his hair brushing your thumbs, and you realized he was waiting for you to say something before this—whatever ‘this’ was—went any further.

“Probably worse,” you admitted, not even trying to hide the breathlessness in your voice, “if I’m honest.”

Jake’s eyes darkened and his grin grew wider. “If that’s how honest sounds, I think I want to hear more of it,” he said.

Fuck, he was going to ruin you.

“Kiss me and find out?” you managed, and Jake huffed out a laugh before reaching for you again. His hands settled on your waist and he lifted to drag you towards him.

“Yes ma’am,” he whispered before his lips crashed into yours.

You were still reeling from the title, and how you liked the sound of it a little too much, but Jake’s mouth against yours drove that thought from your head. He kissed you like he’d wanted it for longer than you could’ve expected, his teeth biting at your lower lip, his tongue soothing after it. You shifted to help him as he pulled you towards him, both of you gasping when you settled in his lap. You were thankful his flannel pajamas could stand a bit of residual lotion, just as you were thankful for the pressure of his hands on your waist, fingers pressing into you and pulling you closer. Jake licked at the seam of your lips and you opened for him; when his tongue swept into your mouth, you felt it in your core. And suddenly, or maybe not suddenly, maybe finally, after months of build up, you were desperately needy.

Your fingers pulled through his hair, and Jake’s hips pressed up when you pulled lightly on the strands. At the motion of his rolling hips, your pajama shorts pressed tightly into your core and the friction felt like building, and Jake broke away from your mouth with a gasp. His hands tightened on your waist, holding you still, and while you appreciated his restraint, you wanted to feel him again.

You whispered his name as he trailed kisses down your neck, and your breath quickened when he found your pulse point under your jaw. Jake hummed, the vibration echoing over your skin, through you, and you realized he was muttering things against your skin.

“D’you know how hard these last three weeks have been,” he whispered, lips ghosting over your skin as he pressed kisses to new goosebumps, “with you always in those tiny shorts, saying it’s because you can’t have tight clothes over your tattoo?”

You felt lightheaded at the idea of Jake wanting you this whole time, maybe longer, locking it away and refusing to act on it because he didn’t know what you felt.

“It’s true,” you managed, and Jake laughed, a puff of warm air over your skin.

“And if that wasn’t enough,” another kiss, another soft suck, “you’ve been so whiny, haven’t you? Always pouting, always needy, making me wonder how you’d sound…”

Your eyes were closed, your world distilled to the heat of his mouth, the heat of his words. You pulled at him, needing his mouth over yours again, and Jake obliged. He was so much softer than you expected, gentle but firm, and he tasted so damn good.

With him distracted, you rolled your hips again, rewarded by the friction over your core, and you could feel Jake hardening in his pajama pants. It was addictive, and you sought him out again, pouting when Jake stilled your hips again.

“Baby,” he murmured, and heat shot through you at the pet name, not one he’d used jokingly before, “what was the point of the lotion if you’re going to grind it off against my flannels?”

“You can reapply it later,” you rationalized, but Jake shook his head, smiling in spite of himself. His lips were swollen, his cheeks reddened, and you loved the look of him like this, almost dazed.

“C’mon,” he prompted you, and guided you to stand. Your legs felt weak, but you managed, and Jake’s hands smoothed up the outside of your thighs. You were between his spread knees, and his hands played with the hem of your shorts before he pulled them down your legs, taking care to not scrape them over your tattoo. The air felt cold on your exposed skin, and Jake swore quietly as he dropped the shorts, staring at you in your underwear with something that felt dangerously close to adoration.

He leaned closer, and at first you thought it was so he could be more gentle with your fragile panties, but then he pressed a kiss to the outside of your thigh and you jumped, pushing him away, embarrassed again.

“You don’t—” you started, pursing your lips, “um, you don’t have to…do that. We can—”

Jake’s hands smoothed over your thighs, coming around to cup under your ass. Had you said his hands were cold earlier? You were sure they were burning, leaving trails of heat wherever he touched.

“Nah, baby,” he whispered against your thighs, his nose brushing the soft skin there, as his hands squeezed you, “nothing ‘have to’ about something I’ve been dreaming ‘bout for months.”

Well, fuck, when he put it like that…

“Okay, then,” you said quietly, weaving your hand into his hair again, and Jake flashed a smile up at you.

“Okay, then,” he echoed, and his fingers pulled your underwear over your hips. He scooted to the front of the couch, a motion that should’ve been cute for his enthusiasm, but instead was simply devastating. He looked so good like this, eager and hungry, and your breath caught when he licked his lips, your hips canting towards him.

He didn’t look away from you.

His green eyes locked on yours as he leaned closer, not pausing when his tongue crept past his lips and you were the one to break, your head tipping back when he licked you. His tongue was flat against you, like the first taste of ice cream, and your head spun at the shamelessness of it. You whimpered when he pulled away, and Jake’s breath was warm as he leaned back again.

“There’s that sound I was after,” he murmured, his soft words a cutting juxtaposition to his filthy tongue.

He teased you with soft licks, lapping at your arousal that’d only grown since he’d first touched your thighs earlier tonight. His hands snuck around to pull you apart, spread you on his fingers like he needed his tongue closer, tasting you and drinking you. He was unhurried and it was maddening, and you pulled at his tshirt distractedly, needing to feel his skin.

“Ah, honey,” Jake muttered as he pulled back. “You taste so good, fucking unbelievable.”

You opened your eyes to find his chest heaving, his eyes dilated and your slick smeared across his chin. He looked so good like this, drunk on you, and you imagined you looked nearly as wrecked. He leaned back to pull his tshirt over his head, and your fingers smoothed over broad shoulders, sun-kissed skin, as it was bared to you.

He tossed the shirt aside and a moment later he was leaning back into your cunt, nuzzling your clit with his nose as his tongue lapped at you. Your knees nearly buckled at the sensation, and Jake groaned, the vibrations only increasing the intensity of the feelings flooding you. His strong hands held you up, spread before him, and he lifted his mouth to tease at your clit. You whined when his tongue rolled around you, alternating tight circles and slow, and your eyes rolled back when he closed his lips and sucked.

“Jake, oh my god,” you gasped, feeling your stomach tighten. It was too soon, you knew it, but you also couldn’t fight it, and it was practically crashing over you—

Jake pulled back.

You whined in confusion, looking down to find him looking up at you, a familiar expression of smug awareness on his face. He turned his head to press a gentle kiss to your thigh, amusement sparkling in his dark eyes.

“Told you I’ve been waiting on this for months, honey,” he teased, another wet kiss slightly higher on your thigh. “You didn’t think I’d let you off that easy, did you?”

Nothing about this felt easy. Not the way he had your body primed for release, every nerve wound tight, not the way you felt it slipping away, and your desperation only climbing.

You whimpered his name, too gone to be embarrassed by how fucked out you sounded.

“Aw, baby…” Jake cooed, and you saw his shoulders shift as he repositioned. Before you could anticipate his next move, a broad finger was stroking through your folds, and you cried out, your hands flying to his shoulder to steady yourself.

“So pretty like this,” Jake soothed, pulling his finger through you, stroking back over you, the pressure perfect, but not enough, “needy. Desperate.”

“Jake, please,” you cried, appalled to find real tears were pushing behind your eyes. After being so close to release, then being denied, then held steady wherever his fingers pulled you, you couldn’t be responsible for the way your body was shaking.

“Bet you’d beg me for it, wouldn’t you?” Jake said, voice even and unbothered. He added another finger, still not entering you, just teasing over you, languid. “You’re all proud when you’re strutting around in those shorts, cute when you ask for help, but not like this, huh? Like this, you know who’s in charge.”

Any response you had was cut off when he plunged both fingers into you.

No warning, no easing, just sudden pressure and thickness and your body tightened around the sudden intrusion, unrelenting and unexpected and fucking perfect, and you couldn’t stop your orgasm as it ripped through you.

“Oh, fuck,” Jake groaned, as he recognized your walls tightening around his fingers. “Thatta girl, come on, give it to me.”

You moaned, your core clenching as your denied release rolled over you, scalding and strong and you felt it in your toes. You didn’t know how you were still standing, you knew the sounds pouring out of you were unbridled, and Jake was proudly talking you through it.

“So beautiful, baby, you’re doing so good,” he said, his other hand stroking up your neck to support your head. You turned your head desperately, pulling his thumb into your mouth and sucking on it, needing to be grounded.

“Fuck, baby,” Jake moaned, and his fingers kept their pace inside you. You felt the edges of your orgasm soften as he worked you through it, and as the fingers not in your mouth brushed against your cheek, you realized he was wiping away tears. You were shaking, it was perfect, but his fingers inside you were pressing deeper and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to push you higher again.

“How we doing, honey?” Jake asked, and you lifted your head to meet his eyes. He was watching you carefully, and he pulled his thumb from your mouth so you could answer him.

“Good,” you whispered, through the clearing haze, “really, really, good.”

Jake hummed, tilting his head as he considered you. His fingers scissored inside of you, and you clenched down on him, hands grasping his shoulders.

“Then I think you should give me another,” he said, smile growing as your eyes widened.

“Jake, wait—” you protested, but you went without opposition when he pulled you back to the couch. His fingers paused their exploration but he didn’t pull out of you as he guided you onto your back, propping your knees up carefully.

“Have to be gentle with that thigh,” he said, his voice growing husky as he settled between your legs. He stroked his fingers again, and your core clamped down on them, still not fully returned from your first high. Any other protest you had died when he bent down again, his mouth returning to your cunt.

You’d had his tongue, you’d had his fingers, and they’d made you cum like you hadn’t in months. And now suddenly you had both at once, and you were pretty sure it was going to cost you your mind.

“Jake, fuck,” you keened, your back arching off the couch.

Jake didn’t respond, too busy lapping up your release and thrusting into you. His tongue traced a maddening pattern over your clit as his fingers pressed deeper into you, stretching you.

“You taste even sweeter like this, baby,” he mumbled into you, and you moaned as you felt his words. His fingers brushed something deep inside of you and you couldn’t breathe; you reached for Jake’s hair, pulling desperately, hoping he could read how impossibly taut you were.

“You know something,” he mused, like it was the calmest thing in the world, “you came so quick, didn’t you? Came once you had something fucking you, and it was so beautiful, honey…but I never got to hear you beg.”

“Jake,” you whispered, his name the only word you could manage, the only thing you could say with his fingers brushing that spot and his mouth just a breath away from you.

“Nah,” he said, his voice low, “I know you could do it so prettily. Won’t you do it for me, sweetheart, won’t you let me hear it? Let me make you cum again?”

He kissed you again, his mouth light and teasing, brushing caresses over your mound but not where you were aching, throbbing, for him. His fingers slowed, torturously, pushing you closer but not fast enough, and you felt your eyes filling again. What was he asking for?

What was anything, what did he need?

“Jake, please,” you gasped, your voice thick. “Please, please—”

“Please what, baby?” Jake asked, another soft kiss. “What do you need?”

“I need to cum,” you practically sobbed. “Please, need it so bad, please, Jake—need you so bad, need you to—”

“That’s right,” Jake practically growled, his voice lower than you’d ever heard it. “You need me. And I’ve got you, honey, so you can let you go, since you asked so nicely, and I’m gonna take care of you…”

His forearm was banded across your waist, holding you still as his fingers found that spot inside of you, pressed up against it, and your thighs shook as your second orgasm bowled over you. Jake’s tongue was over your clit, then his lips closed, and when you thought you might be ready to let go of the high, he sucked, and you fully shattered. You could feel your nails raking into his back, feel his responding groans through the mouth still pressed to your cunt, as your world dissolved into white heat. It swept over you and you stopped trying to ride it, just let yourself be thrown, buffeted by Jake’s mouth, Jake’s fingers, Jake’s soft words.

“Fucking gorgeous, baby, you did so good,” Jake was murmuring into the skin of your stomach. His fingers were still inside of you, gently rocking but no longer trying to stimulate you. It would’ve brought tears to your eyes, if they weren’t already streaming, how tender he was being with you. The whiplash was incredible—how quickly he’d brought you to orgasm, how easily he’d denied you, how thoroughly fucked out you were, now that he’d given it to you.

God, and you hadn’t even had him yet.

“Jake,” you croaked, your throat hoarse, and he lifted his head to look up at you.

“What is it, honey?” he asked, voice soft. He was propped up on his elbows, and he shifted slightly, pulling his fingers out of you. You pressed your lips together to stop a whimper from escaping and trying to ignore how empty you felt, and watching quietly as he wiped his hands absently on his pajama pants before looking back up at you.

You lifted a hand to brush away some of his hair that’d fallen into his face. You shifted slightly, pulling the hem of your tshirt down to wipe at his chin, clean him up a little. It was rough, not the intended purpose of the garment, and Jake laughed a little at the clumsiness of the action, pressing his jaw into your cotton-covered hand, to help you as you wiped at his face.

You bit your lip, more to stop yourself from smiling so wide it made you hurt, looking down at him, propped up on his elbows

He looked proud.

He looked content, and it made your heart swell uncomfortably in your chest, that he’d look like that after taking care of you. But the longer you looked at him, something like doubt flickered behind his eyes and he cleared his throat, looking away.

“If…” he started, and he shook his head, like he was clearing the fog after a night out. “Uh, you know, if that’s too much…or not what you wanted, or something, we can just say it was a distraction. You know, to get your mind off the tattoo.”

You hadn’t thought about the thing in what felt like a lifetime.

More importantly, you saw Jake still wasn’t meeting your eyes, like he expected you to say that that’s all this was, and he was worried you’d see too much if you were looking at him when you said it. It broke your heart, that he would push away his own repressed feelings, if it meant protecting yours.

Although, to be fair, you’d both been more honest in the last thirty minutes than you’d been in the months before, so it was probably on you, as well as him.

You carded your fingers through his hair again, waiting.

It took another couple seconds, but Jake steeled himself and looked back at you.

You hadn’t realized you’d missed the green of them.

In the height of everything, they’d been hooded and dark, the bright color nearly lost in his blown pupils. But like this, clear and sweet, you thought you might like this better.

“It wasn’t too much,” you said, simply.

Jake’s shoulders dropped, just slightly, and you saw him wanting to contest it, and so you shook your head.

“I think that’s a conversation for later,” you said gently, “when we’re both a little more clothed, hmm?”

“Oh,” Jake said, his head turning quickly as he looked around for your pajama shorts. “I can reach—”

You wanted to roll your eyes and you wanted to pinch him, just a little, to get him to listen to you. “That’s not what I meant,” you corrected. “I’m not…I’m not ready to be done. Besides, we han’t gotten you off yet.”

“Oh, that’s okay, that’s not what this was about,” Jake said quickly and you tilted your head, pushing yourself up to sitting.

Jake was still between your spread knees, your faces close together now, and you pressed a kiss to his cheek, a quick reassurance before you reached between the two of you.

Jake jumped when your hand slid over the front of his pajama pants, and you felt like cooing. Even through the thick cotton, you felt him respond to your touch. The fabric had to be adding to the illusion, because he felt enormous under the flannel.

And it was very gentlemanly that this was for you, that he didn’t want this to be a thing about reciprocity, but in a much more tangible way, he’d made you feel infinite, just a few minutes ago. If you could do the same for him, you imagined you’d probably feel just as proud as he had, to see you come undone.

“What’d you say,” you asked innocently, your fingers trailing up the length of him, “about distracting me?”

When you looked back up at Jake, his eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling slowly, deliberate, like he was holding his breath.

Sweet man.

You leaned back up to kiss him gently, waiting for him to kiss you back. It took only a moment, and you bit back a moan at the taste of yourself on his lips. You kissed him softly for a minute, gentle lips, gentle tastes, coaxing. When you pulled back, Jake’s lashes fluttered before he opened his eyes to look at you.

“I don’t know,” you lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I think I’d be pretty distracted if I were choking on your dick, Jake.”

“Jesus,” Jake whispered, and his hips bucked into your touch. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to–”

You licked your lips, his words from earlier coming back to you. “Nothing ‘have to’ about something I’ve been dreaming about for months.”

Jake surged forward, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you to him. You tasted his longing in this kiss, the tight reins he held himself in check with, and how desperately he wanted to give them to you, if only for a moment. You wanted that, and maybe for a little longer. So you kissed him for a moment more, then slid off the couch, settling between his knees like before, but this time, he stayed with his back against the back of the couch, and you were on the ground.

“Wait,” he said, leaning over to grab a pillow, and gesturing for you to use it under your knees.

Forget rolling your eyes or pinching him, did you want to marry him?

You shook the thought out of your head, settling on the cushion and reaching up to help Jake slide the pajama pants down. He hooked his boxer briefs along with them, and once they slid past his hips, his cock sprang free.

“Holy fuck, Seresin,” you whispered, looking up at his face. Jake shrugged, a kind of bashful you hadn’t seen him before. One of his hands fisted his cock loosely, like he needed something to do, and you reached up to pry his fingers away.

No wonder he walked around like he did.

As you wrapped your hands around him, replacing his fingers, you couldn’t deny a fresh wave of arousal washed over you. His wasn’t the longest dick you’d seen, but he was thick, a dusty rose color that you’d kill for a lipstick match of—which just made you think of why you were waiting so long to get him in your mouth.

But he’d teased you, and when you glanced up at Jake, his hands clenched at his sides, his stomach tight, you figured he was due for a taste of his own medicine.

You kissed up his thighs slowly, loving the contrast of wiry hair over smooth skin, and when you got to his cock, you let out a warm breath over the tip. As you watched, a smooth drop of precum appeared at the edge of his cock, and you frowned in mock sympathy, knowing how worked up he must’ve been from finishing you, while denying himself.

“Bet you’d beg something pretty yourself, Jake,” you teased softly, licking at the drop of moisture and pulling his salty taste back into your mouth. You hummed, immediately salivating for more, but Jake’s hips jerked up as he choked in a breath.

“Darlin’...” he said, his voice low, and you had mercy on him, not needing to hear the words to know how badly he wanted this.

“Good thing I’m nicer than you, hmm?” you asked, before you licked at him again.

Jake’s head fell back limply as you tongued his tip, teasing the sensitive head before you licked up the length of him. This was supposed to be for him, but as you were here, you were lost in the exploration of him—the gorgeous weight of him, the musky scent of him, the rich taste, and the sounds he was making.

You kind of loved how quiet he was being, when it was clearly costing him dearly.

It meant that when he did burst, it was going to be loud, and you wanted that break. You kissed your way lightly back to his tip, before opening your mouth and pulling him in.

You’d been joking earlier, about it being distracting, but fuck. The ache to your jaw was immediate, your mouth open as wide as it could to accommodate his thickness. But it felt so good, deeply satisfying, to be able to hold him like this. Warm and thick in your mouth, stretching you—you moaned around him, imagining him filling you. You hollowed your cheeks lightly, sucking, and Jake groaned above you.

There it was.

You pushed yourself deeper onto him, holding your breath and fighting your gag reflex, and Jake’s hands shot out to hold the back of your head, his breath a low moan that was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard.

You clenched your thighs together, the sound of him and the weight of him had you feeling so empty, while you knew you were physically stretching to your limits. You pulled off of him, a trail of saliva falling from between your lips and his tip, and Jake swore softly at the sight.

“That mouth, baby,” he groaned, and you felt his thumb trace your lips, smearing your spit across it. You opened your mouth, holding out your tongue and Jake groaned again, feeding his cock back into your mouth.

You felt like he could see straight through you.

That was how it felt, his eyes boring into you as his cock stretched your jaw and his hips pressed slowly deeper. Your nostrils flared and your eyes were streaming again, but you wanted this, wanted him, wanted him to find his release in you, as you had in him. You couldn’t take him all the way down your throat, not now, although you relished the idea of training, so you found a rhythm that seemed to work for both of you.

Jake’s hips rose slightly to meet you, as you bobbed your head up and down his length, alternating sucking and swirling your tongue over his tip. Your other hands stroked the part of him that you couldn’t fit, squeezing and pulling and you heard Jake’s breathing getting heavier. You were lightheaded, overwhelmed by him, but you couldn’t stop, not for something as simple as air.

The stretch of him was so good, unrelenting and perfect, and the steadiness with which he held himself in check, it felt like a promise. It made your core ache, throbbing and empty, but you reached up to play with his balls. One of your hands cupped him lightly and then Jake was pulling you off of him.

You choked at the sudden influx of air as Jake set you back on your thighs, his hands smoothing over your face as he checked you were okay. You couldn’t remember a time you’d felt better, lightheaded and dreamy, but you nodded obediently in answer to the unspoken question, and Jake pulled you to standing. You weren’t sure where he was taking you, but you knew with absolute certainty that you’d follow him.

Mercifully, it was just around the couch, and when you understood his plan, you whimpered slightly, hoping you could take it. You braced your forearms on the armrest of the coach, rocking back on your hips, presenting your ass to him, and Jake was already behind you, covering you. His long arms draped over yours, pressing you into the couch, even as his knee worked between your thighs, spreading your legs. You moaned when you felt his cock slap against your thighs, and one of Jake’s hands fell to between your legs to cup your cunt.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered, voice somehow both rough and awed. “Is this new? You work yourself up, getting me off?”

You meant to say ‘obviously, asshole’, or ‘as if you didn’t know it’, but what came out was a truly pathetic, “Jake, please…”

He chuckled, his body stretched over yours, and the sound broke off when he guided his cock towards your core.

“Honey, you’re so wet and warm, fuck. Need to be in you, baby, need to feel this tight cunt—”

“Do it already,” you cried, rewarded by another deep laugh from Jake, and then you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, because that thick cock was pushing into you.

It was a good thing he was holding you up.

Your body was shaking to accommodate him, already loosened from your orgasms and his fingers, but the stretch still bordered on painful, and you dropped your head to your forearms as he pushed into you. You weren’t doing anything, you were simply there, letting him fuck into you slowly, and you couldn’t think of anywhere better to be.

“Fuck, honey, you’re so tight,” Jake groaned, and you knew he was trying to go slow, but that didn’t make the stretch any more attainable.

“Need you,” you managed. “Please, Jake, want to be full—”

His hips slammed forward and you cried out as he bottomed out into you.

You felt impaled, you felt him in your throat, you felt like this was everything you could want and you trembled but held him in you. You felt full, and it was so, so good.

“Honey,” Jake gritted, “I’ve got to move, but I need to know you’re okay.”

“I’m good,” you whispered, “let me feel you.”

He groaned, another gorgeous iteration of that sound, and when he pulled back, you clawed at the edge of the couch. It was like he was shifting your center of gravity, but the pull was re-orienting. You had no choice but to surrender to it.

Your whole universe was balanced on the edge of the sofa.

Jake’s thick cock, stuffing you. Jake’s strong chest, pressed against your back, his arms holding you up, pulling you to him. Jake’s sweat, dripping off of him and onto you, sweet and sticky and heady. The pull and push of him, overwhelming and deep, remaking you.

You weren’t going to cum from this; it was too much, but it was too good to stop. You’d already had yours, and you could hear how good it was for Jake, could feel it in the tight clench of his hands and the short length of his thrusts.

Jake groaned, a throaty sound that jolted through you as he pulled you back onto his dick.

“Sweetheart you feel so good…is this what we’ve been missing out on? This tight as fuck cunt, that I can just feel clenching around me? Touch yourself, honey, I need to feel you come again, want to feel you come on my cock.”

You couldn’t be sure if you were crying or babbling, but when Jake told you to play with yourself, you summoned your boneless limbs to do as he asked.

When your fingers brushed your clit, you immediately pulled back; it was too much.

“I can’t,” you gasped, hands falling back to brace against the couch. “It’s too much, Jake, I can’t–”

“Poor baby,” Jake gritted, and one of his hands smoothed down your back before dipping around to your stomach and finding his way to your clit. Your knees buckled and your hips jerked away from his hand, but a moment later you were pressing into him, needing the perfect pain of his touch.

“Honey, you’re doing so good,” Jake’s voice was tight. “God, you feel unreal, clenching down on me like that. Are you gonna cum again? Is this pussy going to cum for me?”

“Jake,” you sobbed, his name the only prayer you could manage.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothed, his touch gentling, even as his hips sped up. “I’m almost there; I know you are too. Where can I come, honey, where do you want me–”

“Jake,” you moaned, your head thrashing from side to side. It was too much, it wasn’t enough, but you knew you needed him. “In me…please..Jake...”

“Holy fuck,” Jake groaned. “Baby, are you sure I–”

You bucked back into him, the thought of losing his heat and his presence nearly unbearable. “Need you,” you whimpered. “Jake, please–”

“I’m right here,” Jake’s hips pistoned impossibly faster. “Fuck, I’m here, I’ve got you. Shit, honey, you feel so good, you’re gonna make me cum, baby, please–”

He ground his hips deep into you and rolled his fingers over your clit once, twice, and you shattered. Your legs gave out and you felt Jake grunt as he caught you, his hips pounding into you a couple more times and he stilled with another beautiful moan as he pumped his release into you. You felt him, hot and pulsing inside of you, and you wanted to curl up into that feeling forever—warm, full, safe.

Jake summoned some kind of strength as he turned the both of you, him settling onto the ground and you on his lap, your cunt clenching around him, like you still couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving. You turned into his chest, and Jake wrapped his arms around you, cradling you, somehow knowing how intense that had been and that you needed the warmth of his chest before you could come back down.

You were shaking, incredibly exhausted but deeply satisfied. And as you drifted back, you became aware of the tangible things around you—Jake’s chest hair prickling your face. Stranger Things still playing, on the TV. The cool air in the room around you, the sticky remains between your thighs.

You lifted your head to find Jake looking down at you, his expression careful, like he was worried what he’d see. Your eyes closed again, and you managed a smile before you turned your face into his chest again, pressing a kiss to whatever was closest. His hands were locked around your back, but you could feel his thumb brushing over your skin, lightly. And it was wild, that that was what had started this all, and if you’d had the energy for it, you would’ve laughed.

You could deal with the repercussions later, what this meant for your roommate situation, if your thigh was any worse for wear, any of that. Because that motion, that comforting gesture that Jake didn’t even seem to be aware he was doing—that meant that this was always where you were gonna end up.

tagging: @bradshawsbitch @callsign-fangirl @laracrofted @datemephoenix @mandylove1000 @withahappyrefrain @gigisimsonmars @babyonboardfloyd @blue-aconite @mxgyver @hangmanbrainrot @lt-bradshaw @wildbornsiren @fuckyeahhangman @double-j @sebsxphia @javihoney @jadore-andor @teacupsandtopgun @thedroneranger

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman x you #jake seresin x you #hangman smut #jake seresin smut #misskielwrites

978 notes · View notes

saintmagx · 8 months

Text

I Knew you were Trouble❤️‍🔥

Part 2

Pairing: Jimmy Uso x reader

AN: if you would like tagged let me know 💖 Trinity is still with WWE. No specific timeline

⚠️ Warnings: 18+ , swearing, violence (this is the WWE after all) slight smut, infidelity, jealous Jimmy, bad writing, cringe story telling, the Usos (because they are a warning in themselves) ⚠️

The privilege of being a WWE superstar is you can get in almost anywhere and tonight was no different. LIV a well know nightclub in Miami is one of the toughest places to get into due to the high calliper of clientele - and somehow we made the cut.

The music was pumping, the air thick with stress and tension being danced away. We found our way to the back of the club to sit in one of the enclosed booths, accompanied by a server bringing over a bottle of their finest champagne.

Josh quickly fills the glasses up and starts us off:

“A toast, to these two badass ladies, congrats on your title win. It’s only up from here.”

“Josh, we haven’t actually won the titles yet, in-fact it doesn’t even feel right celebrating before we even have them, isn’t it like bad luck?”

“Yn, girl, let’s just enjoy the moment, we can worry about actually getting the titles tomorrow - tonight is about celebrating. Celebrating success, our future title reign, our new found friendship and everything in between.”

I hadn’t known Trinity long but her positivity and light is captivating. People gravitate towards her because of how she makes them feel. She loves and gives with her whole being.

“Okay enough of the chitchat, let’s dance”

Before I know it I’m being dragged to the dance floor by Trin. We dance the night away, laughing and having potentially a little bit too much alcohol.

“I’m going to use the restroom, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Trin just smiled and nodded - I want to say she heard what I said, but at this point I can’t even register my own inner monologue.

The bathroom was at the back of the club and it was hidden well - not sure how safe that was. Distracted by doing a bit of social media stalking, I walk into something solid.

“Ouch” I say.

I’m so embarrassed - praying no one saw me do that or worse having caught it on camera.

“I think I should be the one saying ouch”

Stunned, i look up and see Jon who is towering over me, with a lustful darkness lingering in his eyes.

“Jon, shit, sorry, I thought it was the wall or something. Are you okay?”

“Well except a bruised ego, I’m fine.” He pauses then continues “A wall huh? You think I’m that built?” His signature smirk creeping onto his face. My cheeks instantly flush pink. Does he know what he’s doing? Or even the effect he’s having on me? Am I reading too much into this? Wait, shit - becoming aware of the the fact I’ve been staring at Jon blushing, I have to say something, anything.

“Trin seems to be having a good time, I left her on the dance floor if you wanna join her.”

He inches closer, his scent fills my nose. My mind, body and soul is hypnotised by him.

“Well that depends, will you be coming back to the dance floor?”

Will i? Technically I wouldn’t be doing anything wrong, On one hand I can be close to him, looking and not touching but then on the other hand, he’s married, married to Trin, I couldn’t do that to her, right?

“I’m not sure that’s such a goo-”

“Yo uce, come get your wife, she’s had one too many drinks and I think she’s ready to start a fight.”

Saved by the bell.

Jon looks me up and down one more time, as if he’s trying to tell me we have unfinished business, he then heads off to get Trin and play the doting husband once more.

“I think I’m going to call it a night Josh.” He agrees and we head to the main entrance to wait on Trin and Jon before heading back to the hotel. I’m not sure what happened back at the club, I’m torn between wanting to find out, and just ignoring it, act like nothing happened - because nothing did happen right?

Trin

(8 New Messages)

I had so much fun tonight, we gotta hit the club more often.

We should think of a cool tag name

Oh and matching outfits

Should we come out together or separate

Omg there’s so much to think about

I know we haven’t known each other that long but I’ve got a feeling we are going to be such good friends

Jon says I’ve to leave you alone and let you sleep

Goodnight girl

Okay, my decision is made, whatever this is or isn’t stops now. Trin is a sweetheart and doesn’t deserve any of this.

I never understood people who said working out is good for the soul, I thought you had to be mad to enjoy it. However over the past few years an early morning hotel gym session has become my inner peace. Whether I’m running on the treadmill or lifting weights my mind is in blissful state of serenity. No craziness, no fuzziness, no overthinking and no Jonathan fucking Fatu. Calm.

Sitting on the gym floor, a sweaty mess from my workout I take a quick look through social media, trying to catch my breath. Trin had posted photos from last night to her private Instagram, guilt washes over me, I quickly shake the feeling and type a cheesy comment on her post - cheese is good, more focus on Trin less focus on Jon.

“Well shit, didn’t expect to see you down here this early.”

“Well Josh, early bird gets the worm and all that jazz.”

He walks over to join me on the floor, Josh is such a great guy, why couldn’t it have been him I was so captivated with and not his married brother.

“Did you have fun last night?”

“Honestly yeah, it was good to let my hair down and just enjoy myself.” Pausing for a second, “what about you? I didn’t get to see you all night.”

“Aw, did yn miss me?” He laughs

“Shut up loser” I say while nudging him.

“What’s going on here?”

I stiffen, Jon.

“Yo uce, about time you got yo ass down here, we ready to work out?”

Jon sits on the floor right next to me, the heat from his body already surrounds mine.

“I’ll take that as a no, I’ll be warming up for whenever yo lazy ass decides to join me.”

Josh gets up and heads towards the gym equipment to start his workout leaving just me and Jon, an awkward silence lingers.

“So last night was fun” I say trying to break the silence.

He just stares at me, looking into his eyes I see conflict, tension, desire? Finally breaking his silence.

“Yeah, it was a good night, shame it was cut short.”

Playing blissfully ignorant I push him for more information.

“It wasn’t cut short? We had been there for hours.”

“Let me rephrase that, our time was cut short.”

My heartbeat picks up - I’m playing with fire here and I know I’ll get burned if I continue.

“I guess I was to busy dancing with Trin to spend time with you and Josh.”

He smirks, his pinky inches closer to my hand, finding it’s destination he starts caressing my hand.

“No, our time. Me and you. If J hadn’t have came in…”

“Jon, come on we ain’t got all day.” Josh interrupts

“I’m coming I’m coming.” He replies back irritated.

Jon leans over inches from my ear he whispers “This ain’t over.”

And with that he is gone, away to join Josh to start their workout. Leaving me confused, conflicted and a little bit hot. Im definitely getting burned.

tagged: @southerngirl41 @missfamilyjeweles @jeyusos-girl @christinabae @jeyusosgirl @raya-hunter01

#wwe fanfiction #wwe smut #wweedit #wwe x reader #wwe x you #solo sikoa x you #solo sikoa x yn #solo sikoa x reader #solo sikoa smut #solo sikoa #jey uso x y/n #jey uso x reader #jey uso #jey uso smut

166 notes · View notes

nights-at-crystarium · 3 months

Text

Fragments - episodes 31-35 author notes

You can find similar breakdown posts on older episodes in my pinned!

The chasm in their understanding of what makes Vivi tick.

The stakes in this scene seem low and the twins are just overdramatizing the danger for the sake of unwinding and being silly, right? Yesn't. One wrong move or word, and they join those leafmen scattered all over the place.

Finding the line between bad actor and caring sister.

Of course Alisaie wants to hang out with Vivi. She doesn't want to admit that to herself, let alone risk looking desperate in her brother's eyes. Tsundere moment. It's been a while since they've. Had a rest. Between rescuing Minfilia from Laxan Loft and making their way to Il Mheg. Alphinaud, at least in my hc, isn't as physically durable, but definitely as stubborn and proud as Alisaie, so he wouldn't simply agree to chill out for a moment. Alisaie makes him tunnel-vision her bad (?) acting and openly throwing the game for supposedly selfish reasons, while she gets what she wanted, AND forces Alphi to sit his ass down.

I’m sorry but I really need to point out that her ahoge did, in fact, launch into the stratosphere.

More under the cut~

....Can you blame her tho.

Vivi’s shirt’s a bit more plain than usual, he needed to wear something practical under his crystarium guard disguise in Laxan Loft.

The flashback in episodes 32-33 has no dialogue per se, only monologues, to emphasize how disconnected they are.

Technically both vivis are real, but Exarch’s memories are definitely heavily skewed. He’d only known Vivi during the CT quests, in this story it’s a month or two in summer, during which literally nothing bad happens, sans the finale. Alisaie, however, got lucky to experience Vivi during Stormblood, his absolute low.

Exarch and Alisaie sit on opposing sides of the bias, one wears pink glasses, delusional and bluepilled, the other one’s (heh) redpilled, perhaps a bit too much. Hence Alisaie feels the whiplash when her jerkass woobie friend suddenly acts mellow (back in the present), still she has the expertise to tell that he’s not affected by a fae spell or anything.

Full page because I’m so proud of the paneling here, simple as this trick is, these speech bubbles blocking Vivi from sight neatly illustrate that Alisaie just babbles away, paying no heed to his state.

With the power of flashbacks and stories told by one character to another, I’m able to revisit any moment in their past whenever I please. I didn’t commit to a linear story because there was no story! Well, just the outlines. Vivi as a character began in ShB because I really needed to fuck that old man, I started writing down the lil scenes loosely connected by the canon plot, and that’s how the whole concept of Fragments came to be.

It may not work for everyone, but my secret sauce’s that you don’t have to begin at the beginning. Make a guy, put him in a situation, then ask a lot of whys and hows to expand his story backward and forward.

Keeping the past events for later allows me to flesh things out at a leisurely pace. This Alisaie flashback is actually an iteration, originally I’d planned to have Vivi stand alone and just think the broody thoughts, and that was supposed to be the transition between ARR and ShB arcs. I grow more writing muscle as I go, and I’m infinitely happy that I avoided that angsty infodump.

Okay this’s becoming a big fat tangent, but I wanted to acknowledge another pitfall: overusing a character as a mere exposition tool. I wouldn’t do this for, say, Tataru or Y’shtola. Being THE flashback haver makes sense for Alisaie because a) they’re close with Vivi, b) her worldview and opinion on Vivi are changing in ShB, she’s a smart lil thing who would slow down and reflect when appropriate, c) she has a distinct arc in my comic, and knowing what’s going on inside that elf brain will give you the most entertainment out of her actions in the present moment.

I’m new to writing and very excited about the story that comes together as we speak, so I like to show around my kitchen. Please lemme know if you enjoy this. I don’t know if I’m parroting the boring 101s, or if this’s actually useful to someone.

“Meals made for me” YEA HE CAN’T COOK. Well, barely.

New sharp outfit, procured by our most magnanimous branch. The “tail” will help me draw the upcoming Titania fight, it adds fluidity to his movements.

*presses the upgrade button*

There's a lot happening in his head that's not being shown. I hope at least some readers wonder who or what he leaves behind in his mind's eye in this moment. What we know for sure is that he doesn’t take too long to make a decision.

Not sure if subtle, but I did try the breadcrumbing:

Unfortunately for everyone, including himself :’>

I love this one especially because, instead of telling that about himself, Vivi asks Ardbert, kinda gauging his wol experience against the other wol’s.

Episode 34 really shook people awake and reminded that we’re off the msq rails with this story. I loved the response it evoked in the tags, lots of thoughtful rambling about being a hero.

Fae temptation jokes and all, but Feo Ul really says what Vivi needs to say out loud to himself.

Normalize prioritizing self-care over world-saving.

Vivi genuinely cares about Feo Ul. That’s unusual. It might be my storytelling mistake that I didn’t show much of his typical indifference before this scene, unless you count the episodes where he does this

instead of hurrying the fuck up with the msq. Or, perhaps, it’s okay, since this gets plenty of attention later on. You won’t miss the fact that he isn’t eager to set himself on fire to keep others warm. Feo Ul just lucked their way into his heart, and, as a result, he approaches the Titania fight with unusual consideration.

/srs mode on ^

Remember how I just talked about developing this story in all directions at once? I planned Vivi to have this demeanor during the early days of writing Fragments. Like, most of the time. He’d be a broody bitch, get slowly thawed by Exarch’s kindness, and... That’d be it. In veeeeeery broad strokes, this’s still the case, but the current iteration has much more nuance.

Vivi and Titania’s likeness has no deep meaning, take it or leave it. Vivi cares about appearances, he was bound to notice this. Feo Ul can see souls, visuals are secondary to them. But Vivi, being himself, must doubt and question everything.

He moves fast and thinks a lot as the adrenaline speeds him up.

Notice how he lets Titania speak and remains quiet. This’s common in most fights: he doesn’t indulge with chats or banter those who he sees as mere targets to destroy. There’s like a point of no return, if an enemy poses no threat and can be talked out of dying, Vivi will speak, sadly he enters this fight knowing that Titania has to die no matter what.

Once he’s familiarized himself with the situation, and realized that Titania’s more than just a mindless husk, things change up a bit. But for now, he just runs in circles, analyzes the situation, and overthinks about their visual resemblance :’>

Sorry not sorry but unintentional reference x’DD

To be fair Vivi IS being a magical boy in this miniarc so this works lmao.

Wrapping up on this note, thanks for sticking with me and reading till the end~

#ffxiv #ffxiv: fragments #fragment ii: new world old friend #fragments talk

109 notes · View notes

fl3shm4id3n · 1 year

Photo

𝓑𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓗𝓾𝓶𝓪𝓷 𝓣𝔀𝓲𝓷 𝓸𝓯 𝓚𝓲𝓻𝓲 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷

Tw: mentions of death, C-section, spoilers, bullying, I’m no scientist so I just looked up some things.

Author’s note: idk why, but I just been thinking about this scenario. Sorry if It felt short and lazy, I’ll turn this into a fic if you guys want.

It was a shocking discovery when they had found out that Grace along with her avatar were expecting a baby. At the same time.

They had to keep Grace’s body alive in order to have the baby develop then later when it was time, just like her Avatar, her human body was brain-dead.

When the time came, they had to perform a C-sections on Grace’s human body. That how you and Kiri were born, she was born a Na’vi while you were born human. You were born born in the exact same time, so there is no who is older than who.

Kiri had the typical na’vi features, black hair, yellow eyes, and blue skin. You had your mother’s hair, eyes and facial features. One thing that you both shared was your mother’s smile.

One time when you were little, you were just fed up in being in the lab, so you just walked outside without an exomask, without a care.

Norm nearly had a heart attack when he saw you step outside without a mask, but to his surprised when he saw that you weren’t suffocating. You were breathing just fine, this confused Max, he has never witnessed anything like that.

Jake and Neytiri didn’t mind you, since you were a part of both Grace and Kiri, you were considered family. They saw you as their other child but from a different world.

Kiri grew up with the rest of the clan, while you grew up in the Lab. Even though you were both were from different worlds, you were both still twins.

When she’d go to the lab to visit your mother, you’d both sit and watch her video monologues as well.

When in the lab Kiri would always mention how you looked just like your mother. You’d mention to her that she looked just like her Avatar.

You were given some of Grace’s clothes that were laying around. You’d be walking around the lab wearing over sized shirts. As a birthday gift, you had given Kiri Grace’s Harvard university shirt. You saw it on a picture, you thought that it would suit Kiri.

You never really could explain why, but like your sister had a strange connection with the forest, when you’d out with your sister in the woods, you both would end up falling asleep on the grass while you both talked about your connections.

While in the lab, you’d study whatever research your mother had left behind and share it with Kiri, your sister was also interested on whatever research done by your mother.

When you found out that your sister had to leave, Kiri did not want to leave without you, she managed to convince both Jake and Neytiri that you had to come with them. In all honesty, without each other you felt incomplete.

You rode with Kiri on her banshee when you left, you and Kiri were in tears. You both had left your home, but it was for the family and the people’s safety.

When you arrived, the whole family got judged for being from the forest but you got the biggest attention due to being the only human with them, you hated when they called your sister not a real na’vi while you were called a demon.

But they aloud you to stay, with the condition that you all had to adapt to their lifestyle including yourself.

Once settled in, the next day your lessons had began, you and Kiri had got distracted with the sea life while the others did their thing. It was fascinating seeing underwater animals. You had read books and watched videos about the sea on earth, but you never would of witness a see in Pandora.

After lessons, you and Kiri were together, looking down at the sand, it was weird but it was very fascinating seeing sand this close, but you were interrupted by Ao’nung and his friends. You’ve seen them during lessons but never interacted with them.

They began to harass you both, her for having five fingers and you for being a demon. You already knew that you were different, but you hated when it was pointed out.

You both tried to leave, but were cornered, then Lo’ak came to defend the both of you, it didn’t really work until you saw that Neteyam was coming. He warned Ao’nung and his group to back off but of course they did not listened. When your backs had turned, they had called your whole family freaks, then Lo’ak had a plan, and shit got bad.

Now both Lo’ak and Neteyam were in a fight, you and Kiri had tried to stop it, but nothing work. All you both could do is laugh due to one screaming about Lo’ak grabbing his ear, his scream had turned into a whine, it was hilarious.

After that, you and Kiri had a talked, you basically let out everything that you both had been feeling, how you both hated being different then everyone else. What she felt, you also felt. Once you had let everything out, you just hugged one another and stayed like that for a while.

You felt as if you let go of her, she’s vanish and you may never see her again. You both had made a promise that you both will always have one another.

#avatar the way of water #avatar 2022 #atwow #avatar x reader #avatar x you #avatar x y/n #atwow x reader #Kiri #kiri sully #Avatar Kiri #platonic #sully family #sully family x reader #sister reader #twin reader #daughter reader #platonic relationships #atwow headcanons #aphrodite's writing

518 notes · View notes

cissa-calls · 5 months

Text

Countdown to Agatha: Darkhold Diaries: Day 621

Wanda: “Alright, who punched a hole in the wall. Line up, it’s time to find the culprit”

Y/N: *places their fist in the hole*

Wanda: “Nope, too small, next”

Natasha: *calmly inserts her fist*

Wanda: “No? Well, maybe, next!”

Agatha: “You know, this seems rigged. We all know I’m forced to take the blame because I’m the irrational crazy witch! It’s my whole archetype. Save my dignity and just let me go stew over the fact I will continue to wrongfully be convicted”

Wanda: “Fine, just do it then and leave”

Agatha: *slow hesitation as her fist fits perfectly into the punched in plaster*

Wanda: “Well, any final monologue before your trial and I make you patch the hole?”

Agatha: “I’m innocent! Just spare my dignity for once as I take the blame for your mortal emotions once more” *storms off*

Y/N: “Shouldn’t we go after her?”

Wanda: “Perhaps I was too harsh on her” *leaves the room* “Agatha, come back!”

Natasha: “Hearing Agatha talk about how she always feels targeted and on trial makes me almost sorry for letting her take the blame”

Y/N: “Yeah, especially since she has a history of trauma with- WAIT WHAT?!”

#wandavision #agatha harkness #house of harkness #agatha all along #hahndavision #house of harkness counter #marvel #wanda maximoff #agatha harkness x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #coven of chaos #coven of chaos counter #incorrect marvel quotes #agatha: darkhold diaries #Darkhold diaries #Darkhold diaries counter

129 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

eurocoonsmainecoon

Eurocoons Maine Coon Cattery

smoochcal

jules

duncanz

Untitled

codename-adler

and I am nothing

vaioletstuff

she's thunderstorms