#it's become a symbol of hope for me and so many people

[kellyvela]

Do you notice many Sansa fans are POC girls/women? My girls and I are POC from a Muslim country. We are Sansa's fans. We understand Sansa because our lives are similar to Sansa.

It is easy for White people in Western developed countries to claim Sansa should rebel like Arya.

They do not understand the deadly harsh consequences of not following the rules in a real life. For girls/women in religious, traditional, and conservative societies/countries. Similar to Sansa's medievel society/country.

If, my girls and I rebel like Arya. Then, we will get "Honour" murdered.

Sansa, my girls, and I are not dumb, weak, and useless for trying to survive. For trying to protect ourselves. For trying to make the best out of our circumstances that we are born into.

Hello anon!

Thanks for sharing your story with me ❤️

What you said reminds me of what GRRM has said about Sansa's mother, Catelyn Stark:

Interviewer: One of the strongest female characters is Catelyn Stark, in my point of view.

GRRM: Well, I wanted to make a strong mother character. The portrayal women in epic fantasy have been problematical for a long time. These books are largely written by men but women also read them in great, great numbers. And the women in fantasy tend to be very atypical women… They tend to be the woman warrior or the spunky princess who wouldn’t accept what her father lays down, and I have those archetypes in my books as well.

However, with Catelyn there is something reset for the Eleanor of Aquitaine, the figure of the woman who accepted her role and functions with a narrow society and, nonetheless, achieves considerable influence and power and authority despite accepting the risks and limitations of this society. She is also a mother… Then, a tendency you can see in a lot of other fantasies is to kill the mother or to get her off the stage. She’s usually dead before the story opens… Nobody wants to hear about King Arthur’s mother and what she thought or what she was doing, so they get her off the stage and I wanted it too. And that’s Catelyn.

—Adrias News - 2012

So Catelyn Stark is “the figure of the woman who accepted her role and functions with a narrow society and, nonetheless, achieves considerable influence and power and authority despite accepting the risks and limitations of this society”.

Catelyn Stark, Sansa’s lady mother and role model, the symbol of strength she turned to when she pleaded for her father's life:

Sansa quailed. Now, she told herself, I must do it now. Gods give me courage. She took one step, then another. Lords and knights stepped aside silently to let her pass, and she felt the weight of their eyes on her. I must be as strong as my lady mother. "Your Grace," she called out in a soft, tremulous voice.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa V    

Catelyn Stark, the woman whose name Sansa wanted to take as her new identity:

What should you be called?" "I . . . I could call myself after my mother . . ." "Catelyn? A bit too obvious . . . but after my mother, that would serve. Alayne. Do you like it?" "Alayne is pretty." Sansa hoped she would remember. 

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa VI

Catelyn Stark, the mother that Sansa didn’t forget and that reminds inside her to preserve her true identity:

I am not your daughter, she thought. I am Sansa Stark, Lord Eddard's daughter and Lady Catelyn's, the blood of Winterfell. 

—A Feast for Crows - Sansa I

That Catelyn Stark is the kind of woman that Sansa Stark will become and surpass in the future.

Thanks for your message 😊

#anon asks #sansa stark #catelyn stark #catelyn tully

[eff-plays]

To me it's not really about morality if I have to be honest. I'm an Isaac Castlevania stan and he wanted to kill literally all of humanity. Like I don't care if you play evil characters or get off to immoral dom daddies or whatever. I've wanted to punt children in Skyrim into the sun for saying sassy shit to me so like. It's a video game where you kill people. I do not care.

To me, the "problem" (or rather, the thing I like making fun of the most) is just how very surface-level evil the Ascendant ending is, how obviously evil it is, how Larian pretty much beats you over the head with it using very simple and traditional storytelling techniques ("you'll have to kill 7000 people, including literal children btw"), and how some people still manage to twist it into something it isn't (a triumphant, perfect ending) despite Larian constantly blasting at you how bad it is. (And this isn't a critique, it works well and tropes are tropes for a reason, this shit works.)

And it's not even a unique setup. It's a classic dichotomy of want vs need. That's why they're contrasting endings. Astarion wants power, but he needs freedom and self-worth. That's the gist of it.

That's why I love the epilogue titles so much, because they perfectly sum up the endings. Radiant Hopeful, because he's his own light in the dark. For someone who's been a pessimistic asshole after suffering for two centuries, that's HUGE. Sunwalking Regent means he can walk in the sun, a symbol for everything he wanted, but "regent" implies he's a temporary ruler. Someone, somewhere, will come to de-throne him one day, and every day he fears that moment. His newfound power binds him to constant fear and paranoia, and he always searches for new ways to become stronger, because in his mind, he can never be strong enough.

Spawn ending is bittersweet: he lost power, he's still cursed with vampirism and can't walk in the sun, but he is free, he is his own person and he has hope for the future. He's decided for himself what he wants to do, and that's adventuring and helping others, lending his strength to those who do not have any, in his own weird way. He's physically weaker than Ascendant Astarion, and yet he's got strength to spare.

So what's the flip side? In the ascendant ending, he has power, he has control, he has money. But he's paranoid, he's controlling, and he's terrified of losing it all again, because without it, he believes he's nothing, so having it becomes his one and only purpose. It's also bittersweet, because he finally has everything he wanted, but he'll never again have what he truly needs.

These are like ... classic tropes. You can't have it all. You have to make a choice. The thing you think you want, or the thing you don't know you need. AA stans argue that actually, no. His endings are actually suuuper flat and uninteresting. Either he stays a weak and worthless and fearful spawn, or he becomes a strong and powerful and manly supervampire (let's not unpack the masculinity stuff here cuz that's a whole other bag of yikes). That's the argument they're making. That it's a black and white choice of either you pick the stuff where everything works out forever or the stuff where he's a loser lapdog who has to obey Tav because men must either control to be real men or are controlled pussies who can't do fuck (again, not getting into that here). And it's just literally not how the story is set up. None of the companion stories are this flat. If they were, there wouldn't be any argument or choice to make. No pros and cons to weigh. And it's just logically not a good gameplay mechanic, for a role-playing game.

And yet there are people who are just choosing not to get it, just the way I choose to believe it's a choice for most of them because I don't want to believe so many of these people are genuinely this stupid.

So yeah. That's why I block AA fans on sight. Not because I think their fetish is funny (though I do), but because I genuinely don't think I would have anything to gain from people who fundamentally cannot comprehend extremely basic storytelling techniques when they're practically spelled out for you with not-very-subtle methods. It's not even a thing of consciously choosing the bad ending where he's a very shitty daddy dom because it gets them off, that's literally whatever to me, but the fact that most of them genuinely believe it's somehow the better ending.

Despite. Well all of the shit I wrote above.

So yeah. It's not about enjoying evil characters, to me. People who do generally don't brush the actual evil part under the rug. It's the refusal or apparent inability to grasp extremely basic storytelling concepts lmao. And for what? Pff.

#bg3 #astarion discourse

[gay-mike-truther]

i just... one of the main themes of stranger things is being "weird" or a "freak" or "not fitting in". and there's probably no one that relates to that more than the queer community. the show is supposed to show that it's ok to be weird, it's good to be different. so if the show ends with the gay best friend being alone and there only being straight couples... idk that just doesn't sit right with me

#byler #ronance #steddie #elmax #stranger things #stranger things s5 #does this make sense #byler endgame #byler canon #byler needs to be endgame #it's become a symbol of hope for me and so many people #to prove that queer people can have a happy ending #idk i'll just be so disappointed if it doesn't happen

[tubbytarchia]

Traffic/Life series roster as dinosaurs

A lot of these don't make for very good hybrids unless you wanna get into freaky territory or full on centaur but... Hope it's a fun scroll nonetheless!

Grian - Novialoidea

A small birdie... The name also means "New wings" which I find fun. New lives and death games to be part of, new wings to accompany him... (Honorable mention to "Shuvuuia" the "desert bird" who unfortunately is not a pterosaur (doesn't fly)) (Yes we're including pterosaurs! Just using "dinosaur" as a conveient blanket term)

Tango - Aratasaurus / Pyroraptor

Fire raptor! Either works just fine and Tango as a skittery little raptor is perfect for a creature like him

Scar - Apatosaurus

"Deceptive Lizard" harkening back to Scar's scamming tendencies. Though I've always liked the idea of him being some larger gentler animal in any hybrid scenario and a long-neck fits the bill well. He can poke his nose into people's conversations easily to start marketing something useless to them and swishes his tail to ward off anyone who's about to stop him

Impulse - Nasutoceratops

Ren - Regaliceratops

Horns. COOL horns. I don't know what else you want from me ceratopses are just way too awesome. Nasutoceratops is a wicked cool dinosaur for having its horns point so forward much like a bull and I for one can jive with some Impulse bull symbolism. Bulls are often viewed as strong, sturdy and loyal, traits also assigned to Impulse a LOT of the time. But though he IS intensely loyal in many cases (+ Ceratopses are also known for how they defend their own!), and he's not very outward about the following traits, he can get quite petty and bitchy and hold grudges. Still, you don't think of that when you look at him and he seems to agree! Eg him feeling like he should be accepted into Cleo's alliance in 3rd life without actually proving himself when Cleo was rightfully hesitant, at which Impulse more or less rolled his eyes. And him proclaiming "betrayal!" when killed by Bdubs when their alliance was as firm as a rat's tail

(And I feel the need to point this out too just in case: "bulls are also known for their temper" yeah but they're not like that! Bulls like many animals become defensive when exposed to aggravating behavior or movement! Which you could work into Impulse's grudge holding and intense loyalty...? I don't know enough about him sorry but do with that what you will)

Regaliceratops! Regal!! Crown shaped frill!!! Need I say more?

Gem - Therizinosaurus

Theris are so bad bitch coated to me and I would love to have one as my wife I mean um I couldn't decide on a less generic specimen so Gem can just be a Theri! A herbivore - often associated with the belief that herbivores are gentle passive creatures, but far from it, especially with Gem! She bares her claws like it's no one's business

Martyn - Stygmoloch

A Pachy with a tough head and a tendency to bonk people - I think it fits Martyn's tendency to perpetuate drama haha. The Stygmoloch's name though more or less translates to "demon of the styx river", the river of the underworld representing loathing of death. To me this makes sense with all the watcher lore (that I have a hard time understanding but whatever!!) especially with how Martyn became in LL. The watchers themselves don't loathe death (??) of course. They're death games. But someone within the game trying to stay alive and win? Probably loathes the idea of themselves dying. I have no clue what Im saying

Pearl - Carnotaurus

Ok maybe a hot take not to make her into a pteradon or even a raptor with wing-like features but those just didn't fit that well in my opinion. Rather I wanted her to have some kind of horn motif in place of her wings as visual symbolism for her character. I'd like to imagine her having fine horns, to then have them damaged (one broken off) and simultaneously the other more grown out. Think of how domesticated goats for example have their horns trimmed. I think human hybrids with horns would do the same to keep them from becoming a bother but Pearl would neglect to after her heartbreak in DL. I was heavily considering the Diabloceratops for this, especially because of the name (Devil horned face - good ostracizing material) but Pearl strikes me a lot more as a carnivore and there are only two horned carnivores out there so... Carnotaurus it is haha. And even now I'm making her horns unrealistically big but.... We can suspend some belief

BigB - Oryctodromeus

"Digging Runner"! I've already talked plenty of why BigB is very rabbit behavior to me and my reasons for assigning this burrowing dinosaur to him are similar. Tldr he is fidgety and cautious yet clever and constantly buries himself underground

Lizzie - Anurognathidae

I don't even fucking know man it made me think of Lizzie and then I wasn't able to assign anything else to her. Lizzie often claims to be confused and if any dinosaur looks to be in a perpetual state of confusion then its this one. I know a lot of people like to portray Lizzie as a butterfly also so there you go, wings!!! And it's quite cat-like too for those who like to draw her as a cat

Mumbo - Leinkupal

I really struggled with Mumbo... So many different dinos fit him imo but I figured it should be at least something moderately large (so "Technosaurus" was out of the question lol). Then I rediscovered this dinosaur whose name translates to "vanishing family" and then I thought about LL and SL and how Mumbo went out quickly after the initial death/s and left a very felt absence in someone's alliance and then I became really emotional and forgot what I was doing

Joel - Nodocephalosaurus

Bdubs - Psittacosaurus

"Knob Headed Lizard"

Joel as an Ankylosaur has been stuck in my head from day one of assigning dinosaurs to the Lifers and I'm frustrated that I can't truly explain why. You'd view an Ankylosaur as a slow and docile creature, even compared to other herbivores, but...

1. Maybe not so much nowadays, I don't know what non-dino nerds think, but I feel like ankylosaurs were largely believed to be HUGE back in the day, much like velociraptors, when in reality they're not that big. The Nodocephalosaurus is especially small even among other ankylosaurs. But, well, we all know what Joel loves to say about himself

2. Joel is or likes to make himself look well in control, just as ankylosaurs have little to worry about as far as predators go. Especially in earlier series where he was content basing mostly by himself. It's always when things get dire and he enters his red life that he becomes very impulsive and erratic like an ankylosaur flipped on its back

3. I know there's a distinction between Traffic Joel and Empires Joel and whatever other Joel but... Even in death games his more charitable traits shine through here and there. He really becomes a dangerous rascal for a large majority of the time and he's very good at it, he's not putting on a mask or anything, but I like to remember that underneath that tough spiky armor is gentleness and caring. His care towards Lizzie and Pearl and Etho etc etc

4. The image of Joel as a hell of a spiky creature is just really fun to me. Yet heavy and blunt ones! And someone once proposed the idea of him having a club tail but having chiselled it to be sharp to mirror him being a menace. (Added benefit also that it's lighter that way haha) To me he's always been an obvious heavy hitter rather than stealthy or particularly creative etc. Him as a carnivore just doesn't work as well for me

The name bares no fitting meaning but when I look at Bdubs I think of Psittaco. All other species close to it in looks are already ceratopsians and we have like... 3 of those already lol. Im sorry Bdubs you look so stupid

Cleo - Lythronax

There's so few predators in this roster lol oops, but Cleo deserves to be an apex one! The name translates to "Gore King" because you know, zombies... and you know, Cleo is very king so true. If any of the Lifers should be able to boast rows of razor sharp teeth to gore others it should be ZombieCleo

Scott - Theiophytalia

I've been really struggling with Scott but how about the dinosaur whose name translates to "Belonging to the garden of Gods". There's only one known specimen of this species and it's an Iguanadon looking dinosaur which I think a lot of people would regard as the most basic, possibly boring type of dinosaur (if it weren't for the Allosaurus which already takes the title of "basic straight white guy") but that further fits Scott imo. It's always been a strong point of appeal to me how MUCH there is to his character that so often goes under the radar or unexplored, and how he's very often portrayed as just some handsome looking guy as opposed to a hybrid etc. He's not at all extravagant yet has mastered his craft of bending fate in his favor, he so often has things perfectly under his control just as he wants them, etc... reflective of the name "Theiophytalia" even if you wouldn't think such a dinosaur to sport one of the most prolific names a dinosaur can have. Also garden something something flower husbans. Basically whatever Bree's take on Scott is lol. I don't wanna blab for 5 paragraphs about that blue mf here but. I hope this makes sense

Jimmy - Yinlong

I struggled with this mf the most because he's another very hashtag deep character. I felt really bad to remove his bird motifs completely because the canary is so essential to him, but a raptor nor a pteradon fit my image of him at all. I spent so much time looking into various species but it just aint it, but Yinlong was possibly quilled and we can still cover him in feathers, even if he has nothing close to wings haha... BUT ANYWAY. Yinlong is a small kind of pathetic looking dinosaur, and Jimmy definitely isn't small but he'd sure be made to feel that way. Yinlong translates to "Hidden Dragon" however, a rather thought-provoking name for such a dinosaur. Given his character, it sure does feel like there's a soul of a dragon laying dormant somewhere in him, buried by all the self deprecation and curse labels. Honorable mention to Tianyulong, a very similar dinosaur who was named after a museum, but "Tianyu" also translates to peace and content. Something that Jimmy can't yet but deserves to be

Etho - undefined raptor

Already made a loong post about raptor Etho haha which I assume yall have seen since the support towards that post is the only reason I'm even making this post

Skizz - Olorotitan

"Titanic Swan" close enough to an angel right. I feel the whole angel thing is a bit overdone when Skizz can become a malicious little creature every now and then, but swans much like angels do get viewed as beautiful and taken as symbolism of love. Much like Skizz is largely viewed as an angel and often as someone who can do no wrong. But mostly I wanted Skizz to be a hadrosaur/duck-billed dinosaur, because those are dinosaurs known for their speculated vocalizations. And what is Skizz good at? Talking and voicing his love and appreciation? Yeah? Yeah... I'm so sorry Skizz btw this hybrid idea does not work out

Again, a lot of these don't work so well as hybrids... Some like the long-neck ones I cant imagine to have more than a spiky spine back and a tail, but! These picks aren't based on hybrid potential but rather what I think genuinely fits. I did really work on this all day looking through a bunch of dinosaurs and research haha, but I do love dinosaurs a lot... If you disagree with any hey thats cool! Feel free to give me your opinions if you've any and I hope this was fun to scroll through regardless

#oh boy here we go with the tags #grian #tangotek #impulsesv #rendog #I feel bad tagging these Im not gonna tag them all alright forgive me #zombiecleo #joel smallishbeans #geminitay #ldshadowlady #ok thats more than enough forgive me traffic gods #trafficblr #but also blabber? #rendog is my fave... and Joel but I have ankylosaur bias #ankylosaurus best animal sorry to every other animal #oh and Gem of course haha....... Theris are so cool man #second best animal #tubby art

[imaginedanvrs]

home, sweet home

masterlist

dark(?)carol danvers x reader

word count: 4.5k

summary: when carol is sent a gift she refuses to accept, she discovers just how much she's been seeking a companion

warnings: human trafficking, past conditioning, elements of pet play, soft carol turned kind of dark? it's not her fault you're so cute

“I’m gonna have to call you back, Fury,” Carol mumbled, hanging up the coms device before the director could object. She stared down the unexpected delivery for a few short moments, trying to assess its reliability. She didn’t often get deliveries sent to her ship and it was even less common for them to be safe, though the small holes placed in the top of the crate sparked her curiosity enough to overcome her caution. 

  The Captain hooked her fingers under one of the top edges of the crate and pulled the lid off in one fluid motion and raised her glowing fist to shine on whatever creature was inside, slightly alarmed to see the face that peered up at her. Carol was quick to pull two of the sides off and grab the blanket that was hanging on the nearest chair to pass to you, becoming more confused when you merely stared at her blankly as you hugged your knees. 

  “Um, do you…hi,” Carol greeted tentatively as she placed the spotted blue blanket down in front of you and kept her eyes level with your own, hoping you would cover your bare form. You blinked, staring back blankly at the blonde crouching before you and gripped your knees tighter until there were half moons indented despite your nails having been cut the day before. She noticed the anxious gesture and moved back to give you some space, only then noticing the note attached to one of the discarded crate sides. 

  A gift of gratitude, the people of Krylor. Carol reread the note several times, taking a few moments to realise what your presence on her ship meant. Of course, she had heard the rumours of the intergalactic trade of humans that were passed around the cosmos, but she had never found enough solid evidence to even begin to tackle the issue until you arrived on her doorstep. Clearly the people of Krylor had greatly misinterpreted the kind of hero that Carol was if they had thought you were an appropriate gift, sparking a deep anger inside the Captain at such an assumption. 

  She looked back at you and immediately softened her features upon seeing the clear fear in your wide eyes that watched her apprehensively. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you,” she assured with a nervous smile, entirely unsure of how she was meant to deal with you. “Do you understand me?” She asked. You nodded. “Good, good…” she muttered. “You can come out of there if you want,” she offered, backing away again. You continued to watch her without moving a muscle. She nodded as she glanced around her ship for any clues as to what to do with you. She couldn’t keep you there, that much was clear. But where could you go? 

  Of what Carol had heard about the human trade, they all carried the brand symbol somewhere on their body which meant that the blonde had to be cautious where she sent you in case you ended up back in the wrong hands. Of all the people Carol could trust with you, none of them were better suited to take care of you. Her allies bases were too hectic to place you in, the most neutering planets wouldn’t be able to protect you if needed and other heroes stuck to themselves as much as she did. That only left her with New Asgard, though Carol had sent so many refugees Valkyrie's way that she was hesitant to give her more to deal with. It was easier to do when they were together and Carol could be around more to help, but since the mutual break up Carol's distance meant she couldn’t always aid her people. 

  The Captain glanced back at you mid pace where you were still glued to the spot and redirected herself to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water and placed it down next to the crate. You didn’t acknowledge it. “You should drink something. I’m sure it’s been a long journey,” Carol winced. She pushed the glass closer and stepped away. “Drink,” she insisted, which seemed to click something in your mind. You reached forward, but instead of holding the glass, you made your hand into a scoop and reached inside to gather some water in your hand and bring it up to your mouth. 

  “No, you-” Carol went to interject, startling you enough to shrink back into your crate. “Sorry,” she muttered, wondering if it would be best just to leave you for a while. You were clearly scared and confused and understandably didn’t trust the person you had been gifted to. Carol just wanted to try and communicate some reassurance to you, but she supposed that if you weren’t going to be with her for very long then there wasn’t much point in putting you through the additional stress it would take to get there. But sometimes you had to be cruel to be kind. 

  Taking a hold of the back of the crate, Carol pulled it against her as she walked backwards through the small ship and felt you stumble back inside. She brought you over to the corner between her sleeping area and the control panel and slotted the crate as far back as she could before grabbing a new blanket and hanging it over the front as a makeshift curtain, leaving a small gap in the side for you to peer through. It was the best she could do to make you feel safe for the time being. She placed the water back outside and put together a sandwich for you to eat, unsure of what you were used to and hoping that you would be okay with what she had. 

  “Okay, you can handle this,” Carol said to herself, a habit she had developed ever since spending the majority of her time alone with Goose who wasn’t big on conversation. She gathered that you weren't either. 

  “Crap,” she muttered when she saw her route to Earth was going to take a few days and that she would have to stop on the way for fuel too. She glanced back and noticed that the spotted blanket had vanished only to realise you had pulled it in. Carol smiled at that, hoping it gave you some kind of comfort, and looked around for some clothes for you to wear. She settled on a sweatshirt, some underwear and sweatpants and placed them outside your crate with the announcement that they were there. She wasn’t entirely sure you would take them, but a hand crept out from behind the curtain and dragged them inside. 

  Carol figured it was best to leave you to it for a while and turned back to her control panels that monitored any unusual activities in the galaxies closest. There was always work to be done, even if she did have a guest in her home. It was common for the blonde to spend several hours there without realising and it was always Goose that snapped her out of her workaholic trance, though that time the flerken did so in a new way. 

  Carol turned around at the sound of a distant meow, assuming she had gotten herself trapped in a cupboard as she often did when she went wandering around the ship, only to see the ginger tail sticking out from behind the curtain on your crate. Listening closely, Carol heard the familiar purr rumble from Goose and smiled, suddenly getting an idea. 

  “Goose,” Carol called as she sat cross legged a few steps away from the crate. The flerken appeared from behind the curtain and trotted over to the Captain obediently, nuzzling into her hand as she continued to purr happily. The curtain twitched and you peered around the gap to see where Goose had gone and blinked at the sight of Carol’s gentleness with the ginger creature. You pulled the curtain back further to watch with interest and Goose strolled back over to you, clearly enjoying the extra attention she was getting. 

  “She likes you,” Carol commented with an easy smile. Pretty. “You can come out of there if you want to. I’ll leave the crate there so you can go back to it whenever you want to,” Carol explained. You glanced around the room just as Goose sprang from your lap and jumped up onto the nearest counter to patrol her territory. You watched curiously for a few moments before stretching your legs out of the cramped space. The blonde averted her eyes at your still bare form, knowing that at some point she was going to have to help you dress. 

  “The bathroom’s just down the hall,” she told you. Your eyes flickered between Carol and Goose as you crept out of the crate and peered in the direction that she had pointed. When both feet were on the warm floor of Carol’s ship, you assessed her closely for any sudden movements and upon finding nothing, you continued cautiously down the hall. Once you had disappeared from view, Carol inspected the crate and noticed that the clothes she had given you had been pushed together with the blanket to form a nest. The glass of water was empty though the sandwich remained. That meant it had been a long time since you had eaten anything and seeing as it was Goose’s dinner, the Captain decided to make something up for all three of you. 

  When you reamurged from the hallway, the smells that hit you from the kitchen were heavenly. You didn’t recognise them but all you knew was that you wanted to know what was at their source and when you saw Carol standing over the stove, you approached slowly. She noticed you and smiled, following your gaze to the pot. 

  “Do you like rice?” She asked. That, you knew. You nodded. “It’s like that but an adapted version I learnt from the Skrulls.” You nodded again, deciding that you liked the sound of the blonde’s voice. “While we let it cook…shall we get some clothes on you?” She enquired. You glanced down and then back at Carol with a hesitant nod. You couldn’t remember the last time you had worn anything, but you followed a few steps behind Carol as she retrieved the clothes she laid out for you, knowing that if it was something she wanted then you should accept. 

  “Put your hands out,” she instructed gently. You did so and she bunched up one sleeve to slide up your arm and then did the same with the other before pulling the top over your head, chuckling softly at the sight of your dishevelled hair. You liked that sound too. And her sweatshirt. It was mostly white but had a few splashes of pink and blue swirls across it that you found yourself examining while Carol reached for the underwear. 

  “This foot up,” she coached with a tap to your left foot. You lifted it, then the other, until the underwear were pulled up your legs and fit comfortably around you. The sweatpants followed in the same way and you immediately felt considerably more comfortable in the clothes you had been gifted. They were a size bigger than what you needed, but you wondered if that made them better. 

  You gave her a small smile in recognition. “You can sit down while I plate up,” she told you, turning to go back to the kitchen but stopping when she saw you try to sit down on the floor. “Somewhere more comfortable,” she assured and pulled out a chair at the small table by the kitchen. You couldn’t recall ever having been let on furniture before, so it took you several embarrassing moments to get attempt to get on the chair, constantly wobbling until Carol muttered that you could stay on the floor, though not entirely happy with letting you do so.

  You sat patiently there as you watched Carol finishing preparing the meal and plate two full dishes. The food was mounted so high that you weren’t sure you were going to be able to finish the meal and feared what would happen if you couldn’t. You had never been given so much food in one sitting before.

  “Do you remember Earth?” Carol asked as she sat down at the table next to you. You didn’t recognise that name, so you shook your head and watched as Carol tapped her wrist band a few times until a hologram appeared between you. “That’s it,” she said, zooming in slightly on the sphere so that you could see it was a planet made up of majority water and that the land contained a vast variety of different conditions. It looked quite overwhelming and you certainly didn’t feel any compulsion to return if that was apparently where you came from. 

  “It’s not without its flaws,” Carol chuckled when she noticed your hesitance. “But it’s your home,” she said. You tilted your head in recognition and Carol took it as a positive sign. She focused on the hologram more. “Maybe here,” she suggested, bringing up a visual of New Asgard. It did look nicer than the rest of the planet, but Carol’s ship was growing on you unusually rapidly. 

  Of all the people you could recall ever meeting, none of them had been like Carol. They had been cruel and treated you as less than human, perhaps seeing you as such, and you hadn’t liked any of them. They kept you in cramped, cold places that you couldn’t escape from, making you unable to believe just how warm Carol’s ship was. And not just that, her as well. You had felt it when she dressed you, her hands radiated a gentle heat that you hadn’t ever experienced but were instantly fond of. Carol was the only person you had ever met who you had reason to trust, so you didn’t hope to part from her anytime soon. 

  You watched as Carol ate the meal she had prepared and glanced down at your own bowl and the spoon that sat in it. It smelled really good and it looked really good, you hoped you wouldn’t have to wait too long to eat it. “You can start,” Carol told you when she noticed you refraining. You blinked at her and the utensil she held in her hand that you couldn’t use. 

  Of course, the blonde thought as she realised why you hadn’t eaten the snack earlier either. You needed help. That explained how you had approached the water as well. Carol crouched down in front of you as you looked to her for guidance.. 

  “I’m gonna help you,” she told you gently, bringing the glass up to your lips. You opened your mouth obediently for the Captain to coax the water past your lips gradually. She watched closely to ensure you weren’t taking too much at once and pulled back accordingly to replace the glass with a spoonful of the hearty meal she had prepared. After several moments, she sat down with you and stretched her legs out comfortably.

  It was delicious, you thought as you savoured the dish while Carol did the same. You watched her closely for guidance as she ate and helped you, occasionally making comments about the various dishes she had learnt in her travels and how she had been able to share all of them with Goose given that his digestive system was practically impossible to disturb. Still, it was nice to share the dishes with another human, she told you openly with a small smile. You mirrored it, recognising that you were able to provide her of some kind of service. It felt good to please her. 

  “Do you want to watch a movie?” She asked once you were both done with the meal. Carol didn’t often host guests in general, never mind ones of your characteristics and needs. She hadn’t had many visitors during her time on Hala or when she lived with Maria either. However, if there was anything the blonde was neglecting in her hosting duties, you weren’t about to notice. 

  You watched curiously as Carol set up a movie for you near her bed and though you didn’t recognise the images that began to play, you were transfixed by them. You heard the Captain say something about Goose stealing her speaker as she disappeared through the ship to retrieve it. You waited several moments before wandering across the space and sitting down on the floor in front of the screen to admire it closely. When Carol came back, you already appeared fully entertained by the film so she left the speaker on the side and silently began getting back to work, glancing over at you occasionally to ensure you were okay. 

  You remained comfortably like that for some time until your eyelids began to feel heavy and there was a distant haze starting behind your eyes. Still watching the film, you lay yourself down and curled up on the hard floor by the screen, you were tired but unable to sleep so you peered back at the Captain who was already watching you. “You know, there are more comfortable places than the floor to sleep,” she told you with a small smile. You blinked at her. “You’re as bad as Goose,” she muttered to herself. “But it is getting late,” she admitted as she strolled over to your area and you immediately sat to attention. “Easy,” she chuckled, grabbing her sleeping shorts and a tank top. 

  Carol had her back to you as she changed, apparently unbothered by your gaze, letting you note the way her back muscles and shoulders flexed as she stripped herself of her clothes and into fresh ones. It was different having your owner not acknowledge you when they were out of clothes. A lot of Carol was different to the others, you just didn’t realise it was because she didn’t consider herself your owner. 

  “Do you want to sleep there?” She asked as she pointed to the crate. You understood the gesture and made your way over to the crate without being able to communicate that you would rather sleep elsewhere. The box was too small, something that provided comfort when you were unsure of the new environment, but since discovering that it lacked any threats, you seeked out the space that was at your fingertips. 

  Unfortunately, Carol couldn’t have known any of this and simply watched with a bemused smile as you dragged the blanket half way out of the crate so that you could stretch your legs out past the curtain. As the blonde got herself comfortable in her own bed, she continued to glance your way every time the curtain shifted until you opted to turn around completely and settle with your head outside the crate where you could keep Carol in your view. 

  “Comfortable?” She threw you another blanket despite the ship being a suitable temperature and you didn’t hesitate to bundle it up to use it as a pillow, still looking at her through sleepy eyes. Once she bid you goodnight and turned over, you let the waves of exhaustion wash over. It was the first time in as long as you could remember that it felt safe to do so. 

*

Boredom was not something that had come to you in a long time. Usually, your empty moments were ruined with fear and anticipation for what was to come, but the safety and assurance you felt on Carol’s ship had gradually put your mind at ease enough to let those quiet moments be tempted by curiosity. Carol was a busy woman, always on the lookout for issues she would have to deal with. It left you unoccupied enough to let that initial hesitation be surpassed. You couldn’t live in fear forever. 

  You had been with the Captain for several days, the pair of you falling into a routine you were becoming accustomed to. She woke up first and prepared breakfast for you both, telling you all about the latest news from across the galaxy that you didn’t really understand. Whilst she would work, you would tentatively explore more and more of the ship you were temporarily living in, curious at the possessions Carol owned and the technology her ship possessed. The only reason you had the confidence to do so was the encouraging smile the blonde sent your way every time she saw you venturing further around her home. But it wasn’t a large home and there was only so much for you to entertain yourself with before you needed something different. 

  You perched yourself onto the floor next to the stool Goose was sitting on, still not keen on sitting on furniture. You held your hand out to the flerken who nuzzled into your knuckles affectionately, then glanced up at the Captain and wandered over to her side. 

  “We’ll be in Earth’s orbit in a few days,” she told you, bringing up an image of New Asgard again. You weren’t sure how to communicate that you didn’t want to leave, so you looked away. “I know it might be scary to move again, but they’ll take good care of you,” Carol said, placing a hesitant hand on your shoulder. The contact was unexpected, but you liked it. You met Carol’s unsure eyes and responded by resting your head against her leg, nuzzling into the soft fabric of her sweatpants slightly once you realised how gentle it felt on your skin. Carol was taken aback by the act, feeling a tenderness overcome her at the contact. She smiled to herself when you opted to stay put for a few moments longer. She didn’t have much contact with other humans herself and she didn’t realise how much she needed it until you offered it to her. 

  “You need a bath,” Carol broke the silence by saying. You pulled away and scrunched your nose up at her, making the blonde chuckle. “Come on, it won’t be that bad,” she insisted. 

  You watched as she walked off down the corridor and heard her start the taps in the bath. You remained stubbornly fixed to that stop on the floor until a faint smell of flowers travelled through the corridor. Following your nose, you wandered through to the bathroom where the sizable tub was soon filling with bubbles. It did look tempting. 

  “You wanna get in?” She asked with a knowing smile. You nodded. “Lets get those clothes off of you then,” she continued as she gently pulled the clothes off of your body and into a pile on the floor. You had been wearing the same clothes since she had given them to you because you hadn’t gotten them dirty and she was cautious of making you uncomfortable by stripping you too often. To her surprise, you didn’t react to her taking the clothes because your attention was fixed on the growing mountain in the tub. She chuckled and encouraged you in with a hand to the back. 

  Unfortunately for you, the tub was too high and you found the task of hiking your legs over steadily to be of some difficulty when you considered how you could slip on the other side. Fortunately, Carol’s strength was more than ample to lift you into the tub herself, something that made you smile fondly at her. You liked how strong she was, because you were learning that she wouldn’t use it against you, only as aid. 

  Once you were submerged in the bath, Carol brought over the flannel and soaked it in the water before ringing it out and bringing it up to your face. “Hold still,” she chuckled when you playfully darted away, stopping when you felt how warm and refreshing the cloth was against you. You allowed Carol to continue washing your body tenderly, humming softly to herself as she did so. She made the occasional comment about the different places she had acquired the unique soaps and you listened intently, wondering if she would ever show those places to you. 

  To her credit, Carol cleaned you thoroughly, using her soaps, cleansers and some shampoo once she began finding her own comfort in the task. The warm, soapy water felt just as good on her own skin as it did over you and there was a certain fulfilment in the way she was able to handle and aid you. She especially enjoyed massaging the shampoo into your hair and the small content noise it brought out in you. You both could have stayed there for much longer. 

  Once you were sitting on the bath mat next to the tub, Carol wrapped you up in a heated towel to stop you getting cold and did the same for your hair, effectively cocooning you snuggly. You didn’t like the hair dryer, she learnt, but not so much that you struggled too much against her when she began to use it. You sat obediently with a displeased look upon your face that was soon changed when you were dressed into a clean pair of Carol’s clothes. 

  “Did you enjoy that?” The Captain asked as she crouched in front of you. You smiled at her and nuzzled into her shoulder affectionately, making the blonde chuckle. “Me too,” she admitted. “We'll have to get another one in before you go.” Carol hadn’t expected to feel so disappointed as the words left her, but it was clear a part of her wanted you to stay. But by letting you stay, surely she was no better than the people who had taken you in the first place? 

  “Let's get some food,” she said to distract herself. You followed promptly behind her and stayed that way for the majority of the day as well as the ones that came after. Whenever Carol was working, you would sit or lay by her feet, content to feel her tower over you in a way that seemed to block the rest of the world out. When she cooked, you sat to the side and watched with eager eyes and a growling stomach. When she took some time to unwind and watch some tv, you listened out for her chuckles with soft anticipation. 

  With you becoming so used to seeking out a close proximity to the blonde, nighttime was hard. You didn’t like the crate anymore, even with all of the blankets and sweaters you had stuffed inside. It wasn’t enough and it was lonely, so one night you ventured out to her bed. 

  As you peered at Carol’s sleeping form, you frowned at the small lights that were attached to her temple. She didn’t look happy to have them on, despite being asleep. She was restless and a crease was permanently embedded between her brows. You didn’t like to see her like that and wondered if the device on her was hurting her, so you scrambled into her bed and patted the device. Carol awoke with a start, eyes locking on your as she panted heavily. She was scared. You had never seen her scared before. 

  You whined, high in your chest, and burrowed yourself into Carol’s chest, nuzzling your head against her wildly beating heart. The blonde froze at first, still recovering from her nightmares until your efforts appeared to smother her terrors because you pressed yourself so firmly against her. A pair of strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you up her body until your face was between her neck and shoulder and you took the cue to settle yourself there as you held her. 

  “Hey,” Carol whispered once her heart finally returned to its resting rate. She brought a hand up to your hair and began to absently comb her fingers through, wanting to feel you in your entirety. It soothed her to no end, she realised, and it was something she would soon have to give up. You would be in Earth’s orbit by the morning. She didn’t want you to go, so she held onto you tighter as her chest pulsed with the thought that you wouldn’t be there the next night. 

  Did that have to be the case? She wasn’t hurting you or manipulating you or exploiting you. She was caring for you, something that very few would be able to do as much as she could. Even if she took you to New Asgard, there would be no one on one connections like she had formed with you because they would all be too busy for that. 

  You had found solace with her, who was to say you would be able to find it elsewhere? With someone who could care for and protect you as well as she could? What if by sending you away, she was ridding you of the only home you would ever truly have?

  “Do you want to stay here with me?” Carol asked. You held her tighter and tenderly brushed your lips against her neck. “Me too,” she told you with a relieved smile.

  Her mind was made, your home was with her.

#marvel #dark!marvel #carol danvers imagine #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel

[danswideslit]

slime video analysed thru horror with a queer pov

kay it gets its own post because im stil aaa bout it

This is just what I remember/was able to brush up on, since I studied this in 2019, so if anything is outdated I apologise, feel free to correct me, I love to learn!!

also I realized it has all become a lil rambly as I couldn’t contain my excitement soz

So this is my essay on the parallels of queerness in the horror genre and how DanAndPhilCRAFTS - Slime (2024) could be analysed in this light, especially given the creators’ personal history with the topic.

Among the classic tropes of the horror genre, is the topic of losing ones innocence.

Most emphasised is the loss of ones virginity, as a synonym for the innocence, although the innocence as such has many forms. As mentioned in Scream (1996), you may not survive if you have sex, if you drink/do drugs, or if you claim to “be right back” or in other ways investigate to satisfy your own curiosity.

The parallels to the christian church and societal norms are already obvious. If you deviate from the path of purity, it will lead to death and suffering. The only way to survive the night, is to stay pure. Do not be tempted by mere curiosities, for they will be the death of you, essentially.

In the same light, Baphomet is most often portrayed with characteristics from both the male and female human anatomy, and can be used as a metaphor for the inherent evil of gender expressions beyond the societal norm.

In the same light, monsters in various movies are often shown with a deviance in gender and/or sexuality. This role of ‘sexual outsider’ has, for years, been a symbolism that queer people have connected with. The has only further skewed the ‘stay pure’ narrative, as it brings on an ambience of kill or be killed. An either/or of sorts. But it has also made monsters and villains walk the line between sexy and terrifying, which naturally leads people to be enticed. We are sexual creatures afterall.

Often the monsters have an aura of masculine energy, as they make people cower, and the stereotypical jocks abandon their hardcore exterior. This, on one hand birthed the “the boyfriend is the killer” trope, but it also gave way for diving into morality, how many crimes can a villain get away with, as long as the character resonates with the audience.

This is demonstrated in Jennifers Body (2009) which was, at first, marketed to the male audience, making the monster Jennifer an attractive young woman, essentially getting the film marked as “Twilight for boys” by film critic Robert Ebert.

The ratings, however, were lackluster and claimed the movie was neither funny nor scary and thus was unsuccessful. Jennifer wasn’t “as hot as you’d hope she’d be” and essentially the “lesbians-for-the-male-gaze” marketing to boys 17+ failed. 

However, many women and young girls between 17-25 saw the character of Jennifer as empowering and resonated with the film. My theory is that the men did not like being the victim, being killed my something that they are supposed to be worse than. But the women saw a strength in the conflict between what is essentially two sides of the same existence - on one hand the rage of the injustice and gender inequality, and on the other hand Needy, who follows every character trope connected to the “last girl standing.” Except even she is tainted in the end, killing Jennifer and losing her innocence. (more talk about innocence, murder/virginity bla bla bla, okay but this essay aint about that)

All this plays a role in how the queerness of DanAndPhilCRAFTS - slime (2024) can be interpreted. Throughout all four installments of the narrative, Dan is seen being guided by Phil and scolded when he doesn’t do it right. Phil seems not at all surprised when Dans glitter face turns satanic, and by the third video, Phil hands the control over as he gives himself away.

Essentially, the indoctrination of Dans role in Phils devotion is cult-like. Cults are often hidden behind a facade of “found family” before the true behind-the-scenes terror is revealed. Dan is evidently comfortable in letting a more experienced person guide the way, despite his own hesitance. He knows that he cant do this halfway.

also the idea of Phil rising from the dead, during Easter… Jesus Christ, where would we even begin (lol)

But beyond that symbolism, It is the hesitance in Dans nature that seems to point to the “purity being tainted” horror trope. Phils devotion to Him is evident, but Dan seems more so to be devoted to Phil. A follower. Believing whatever Phil believes to be true. A Billy and Stu, Scream situation, if you will. The subtext of two lovers and the blurred lines of love and death, which has been analysed and discussed a whole while by smarter people than me. 

Dans hesitance to follow Phil guiding him to the other (queer) side. The penetrative stab and the menacing disarray of emotions on Dans face afterwards. This was anything but a selfish act, but he gave into the curiosity, he is not the last survivor, he has joined Him. This ritual was giving into love, without trying to contain, rationalise, or diminish any part of it. 

(Kind of how like dan, selfproclaimidly, would still be a ‘Daniel in denial’ if Phil hadn’t come into his life, because Phil ‘led him astray’ but he’s very okay with it and he has embraced it, and he’s happier giving in instead of fighting it?? Too far??)

#dan #phil #dan and phil #dnp #daniel howell #amazingphil #danandphil #dan howell #dandandphilgames #danandphilcrafts

[urfavlarry]

Hi, I love your Husk work as an overlord. Could I please request a husker x reader when he lost the game to Alastor. Short time after Reader becomes the Cashio Overlord that runs on the cashios that once owned by Husker. One day, the reader came by to see Husk at the hotel. Please and thank you

A/N: im not sure if i understood this well but i hope i wrote it well enough for you to enjoy! also sorry it took so long for me to write i was a bit busy but here it is<33 (and also reader doesn’t know about Husk at first :3 )

warnings: swearing,alcohol,bad grammar,mentions of death and bl00d

genre: angst??? and some fluff

——————————Flashback ——————————

You walk to your local bar, you and some guy you met online through a dating app were supposed to meet up there and get to know each other more. You liked the guy, he was nice and showed genuine interest in you, something guys didn’t really do that often. You put effort in dressing up today, wearing your best pair of clothes you had and fixing up your hair and just make yourself over all look presentable. “This guy better not ditch me.” You tell yourself as you look at the time; 7:02pm. You were supposed to meet up at 7 and he was late. “Not the best first impression.” You sigh when you suddenly hear someone yelling your name.

“Y/N! Hey it’s me the guy you have been talking to for the past few months? I’m so sorry I was stuck in traffic and I would’ve called but I just didn’t really think about it in that moment.” He says rubbing his neck nervously and smiles awkwardly. You smile at him and chuckle; “Don’t worry about it! Now let’s go have some fun!” You say excitedly and pull him to the bar.

The bar was fairly crowded, something you were expecting since it’s a pretty popular one at that. You order some drinks and take a seat in the corner of a bar. It was loud but you still managed to talk and drink the night away! You drank a bit too much that night and your head started to pound and the last thing you remembered was getting pulled into an alley by the guy and a sharp pain in your chest and blood on your hands.

————————End of Flashback ————————

After you fell down to hell you quickly realized your situation and tried your best to not get in anyones way. You kept a low profile and kept your guard up just in case. You come across a casino, an abandoned one at that. You go inside and look at yourself in one of the broken mirrors on the floor. You had poker card symbols under your eyes and on your fingers. Your eyes widen at the sight, you were still wearing the same thing from last night it’s just that you have a big X on your chest. “That motherfucker killed me.” You say in disbelief, anger slowly bubbling up in you.

That day you went on a rampage. Finding an abandoned angelic spear somewhere in the bar and went fucking nuts. You swore you killed at least a good 250 demons and you kinda discovered some powers. “Cool.” You said and smirked. People had been recording you and posting about you online, calling you the “Soul gambler”, whatever that means. You slowly learned you killed 2 overlords during your little rampage and they weren’t even some random overlords, they were “heavy hitters” as people liked to call them. People started to fear you, making out the events that happened into something 10x worse. People didn’t bother looking your way anymore, wanting to light themselves on fire rather than to look at you.

You renewed the casinos around hell and gained massive amount of territory. People would visit the casinos frequently, it sort of reminded you of the casino from back when you were alive. Many people applied for the job since almost all of the jobs were taken because of hells overpopulation problem. Some old workers that worked at the casino before you renewed them and claimed them as your own started coming in, you hiring them of course since they had experience. You quickly learned there was an Overlord similar to you a few years ago. Unfortunately he lost his power and you learned from a commercial that he is now working at a hotel, Hazbin Hotel to be exact.

You decided to go and visit the hotel one day, wanting to have a chat with the old Overlord. You make yourself look presentable, wanting to look your best since you have a reputation to uphold. You walk to the hotel, people walking by screaming or just run into near by building, “Charming.” You think sarcastically and keep walking to the hotel.

You get to the hotel and look up at it, taking in its looks. It didn’t look half bad but it could use some renovation. You walk up the hill and brush yourself off one last time and knock on the big doors. There was silence for a few minutes then you heard commotion and a quiet “coming” from behind the closed doors. You wait patiently and hear the door open, seeing the one and only princess of hell. You go to speak but the door shuts right in your face; “Well that was.. something?” You think to yourself raising a brow in the process. The door opens once again, but this time by the radio demon himself, a fellow Overlord you quite liked. He didn’t try bothering you at all since you arrived in hell a few years ago and you appreciated that. “Salutations dear! It’s a pleasure finally meeting you! Quite a pleasure! Come on now, don’t just stand there. Come in!” He says stepping aside to let you in. You smile softly at him and thank him, walking into the lobby of the hotel when you suddenly stop dead in your tracks because a spear is suddenly pointed in your face. You smile, summoning your own spear and point it to the girls neck; “I wouldn’t try that if I were you. I’m not an Overlord for nothing.” The girl mumbles something in spanish and walks away, putting her spear away. You sigh and look at the princess of hell. “Well if you guys finished trying to assassinate me, let me introduce myself.” You say and look at everyone’s expressions. You smirk and continue; “My name is Y/N, maybe you know me by “Soul gambler” ,I mean uh whatever that means.” You shrug and hear a slight chuckle from Alastor and a pink spider demon, you believe his name was Angel Dust, a porn star from Valentinos studio. Poor guy was probably tricked into signing a contract with him.

“Well, I came here to ask about an Overlord that was similair to me. He owned the casinos I now own and I heard he was residing here now?” You say calmly, hoping you can to the right place. You hear slight radio static increase but choose to ignore it. Charlie shrugs, saying she doesn’t know of any Overlord being here other than Alastor, but that she hopes you will stay for a bit to see what the hotel is like. You nod in agreement and walk to the spider fellow since he was the only one that looked approachable. You talk for a bit when he suddenly says; “So um I kinda know something about the Overlord you’re looking for.” He says grabbing your full attention.

“The Overlord you’re talking about, it’s that bartender over there. You can try talking to him but I won’t guarantee that he won’t push you away.” He says lowering his tone and grabs you back the shoulder to bring you closer. You nod looking over to the bar where a grumpy cat demon sat, drinking some cheap booze. Angel pushes you towards him, giving you a thumbs up before walking away. You glare slightly but take a deep breath and walk towards the bar. His ears perk up at the sudden footsteps and looks your way, sending you slight glare; “If you’re here to make deals with me you can turn right back around and leave me the hell alone.” He says in an annoyed tone and turns around, his back facing you. You look at him and glare slightly; “What is it with you people and interrupting me all of the time? Like jeez let me fucking speak!” You say rolling your eyes and continue; “I don’t know what shit you hears about me but I can assure you that I didn’t come here to make a deal with you. I just want to talk.” You say sighing, hoping for an answer from the cat demon.

“Whatever let’s just get this over with, what is it?” He says rolling his eyes. You look around and say in a hushed tone; “Do you happen to know anything about the old Overlord that used to own the casinos I own now?” You say and hope you get the truth out of the grumpy ass cat. He looks back at you and curses Angel under his breath, an angered look on his face; “Cut the shit I know you know it was me. What do you want?” He says going closer to the counter where you were sitting opposite to him. You sigh; “I don’t want to cause any harm, really just a friendly chat. Share experiences you know? Since we’re both kind of similar..?” He looks back at you in disbelief and contemplates what to say. He sighs and pulls out two shot glasses, pouring you one and nods for you to continue. “Sooo..” “Husk. The name is Husk.” You smile, asking away and share your experience as on overlord with him. He asks some questions himself, wondering how the casino is doing or if anyone decided to come back there to work. You chat for the rest of the day, others looking at you in awe as they’ve never seen Husk open up to anyone.

After a while you get a bit drunk, talking the poor cat’s ear off. He smiles, listening to your stories, commenting on them here and there. After a bit you decide you had enough for the day and that you should get home. Charlie quickly offered you a room for the night, free of charge so you gladly accepted. “Husk go ahead and show them to their room please? I have something important to do!” Charlie yells before running off to who knows where.

Husk sighs but links your arms and walks you to your room. “Don’t forget to drink some water.. You know so you don’t throw up in the morning.” He says and walks off to his own room. You look at his figure disappearing in the dark of the hallway and enter your room. It was spacious and really nice for a hotel in hell.

You lay down in the bed, kicking your shoes off and hum in satisfaction, falling asleep just after a few seconds of resting on the comfortable bed. The next day you wake up, a slight headache but nothing pain killers couldn’t fix. You stretch and go to the bathroom, taking off your clothes and take a quick shower. You saw a new pair of clothes in the bathroom and a little note left by Charlie. You smile and take the clothes, putting them on. It wasn’t anything fancy but you liked it. You put on your shoes and fold your dirty clothes neatly on the bed and decide to head down to the lobby. It was around 9:30 ish when you went out so you hoped someone was awake. You head down and to your surprise see that everyone is awake. “Good morning sleepy head! You sure slept for quite some time!” Alastor chirped and grins at you, waving for you to come over.

You sit down next to Alastor, Charlie and Vaggie making breakfast. “So I saw you talking to Husk last night~” He smirks slightly. You roll your eyes knowing Alastor and Rosie like to gossip, usually during the meeting Carmilla holds once in a while. “Yeah? It was just a friendly chat. Sinner to sinner.” You shrug and sip on the coffe Charlie brought with the breakfast. Alastor raises a brow but shrugs and walks off.

You see the car demon from afar. Already sitting at the counter and drinking booze. You smirk and walk over with your coffee in hand and sit down at the bar; “Ain’t it a bit too soon for you to be drinking?” You tease and eye him and the booze in his hand. He chuckles lowly and smirks; “Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic darling, it’s just the way it is.” He says and shrugs his shoulders, taking another swing of his booze. “Sleep well? You seemed pretty drunk last night.” He says and eyes your figure. You smile and say; “I’m fine, I handle my alcohol pretty well just a slight headache.” You take the last sip of your coffee and place the mug down.

You look at Husk who seems to be thinking about something before he suddenly speak up; “Maybe we could repeat last night another time? Maybe you could show me what you did with my poor casino?” He teases and smirks. You fake gasp and hold your chest where your sadly dead heart is. “Oh I would bet my soul that my version of the casino is so much better than yours was.”

“We’ll see about that Doll~”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel season 1 #alastor #charlie morningstar #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel husk #overlord!husk #overlord husk #overlord #overlords #alastor hazbin hotel #vaggie #hazbin charlie #husker x you #husk x reader #gn reader #reader insert #husk x y/n

[smolbean-17]

Hunter is probably going to die this season.

You know I’ve theorized this if you’ve been following me since Season 1. As the season keeps rolling out, the more and more I really do think this will happen.

We know that the ending will be bittersweet, and we know that the emotions behind the ending has a lot to do with fatherhood in particular (according to DBB)

They are putting a huge emphasis on Crosshair and Omega’s relationship. Particularly how he could fill a paternal role for her. Omega mirroring Crosshair is a huge sign to not only us as the audience, but to Hunter as well, that Crosshair can (and will) become a father figure to her. They didn’t have to show us that Hunter noticed Omega mimicking Crosshair. But they did. They’re masterfully crafting that something is going on in Hunter’s head. He’s thinking about Crosshair and Omega’s relationship, and what that could mean.

Crosshair still has a long way to go in regards to his guilt. They could easily have him sacrifice himself at the end to ultimately quell all of his guilt, but I believe that they’re going the route of subverting everyone’s expectations. Crosshair could sacrifice himself for full redemption (like they do with most Star Wars characters) and he probably would given the chance. But story wise, he doesn’t really need to.

If they were planning to go that route, he wouldn’t have been reintroduced to and accepted by the group so early on in the season.

They are actively showing Crosshair paving the way to his redemption. He’s putting in the work. He is protective, helpful, and actively putting himself in danger for the benefit of his family. He’s redeeming himself already. Him dying isn’t necessary to resolve his story. In fact, I think it would diminish the power behind his change. People can make bad decisions. They can hurt others. They can change. And they can live to see happier days. That is hope. And that is always the overarching theme of Star Wars.

Hunter, on the other hand, has been incredibly uncertain and indecisive throughout the entire show. Where Crosshair knows and acts on his decisions, whether good or bad, Hunter has been unsure of himself and his role in everything. His path is way less cut and dry. It almost feels like, in many ways, he has lost his leadership. And he feels it. He regrets his decisions. He probably blames himself for everything bad that has happened. He clearly doesn’t fully trust himself to keep his family safe.

How can his story be resolved, short of him simply finally deciding to take a stand and fight for the other clones?

By giving up his life for his family, for a cause he never wanted to be a part of, as a leader should. So they can go on and live the life he so desperately wants for them.

I don’t think at this point in the story Hunter would allow anyone else to sacrifice themselves. He would stop it from happening. He’s learned from his mistakes.

My theory is that we will see more and more instances of Hunter recognizing Omega’s growing relationships with others, especially Crosshair. And when the time finally comes, he’ll be able to let go of needing to be her primary protector. He’ll see the growth in her, and in his brothers, and finally trust that they’ll be okay. Whether he sacrifices himself or gets mortally injured in a fight/accident, he will be at peace.

I don’t know if his death will be ambiguous or unseen, like him dying in an explosion or something like that, or if it will be more obvious.

I could see him having a Fives-esque death. Where he can say goodbye to his family, and finally pass off the responsibility he held so close to his heart to Crosshair and his brothers.

And if Tech really is dead, he won’t have to be alone anymore.

They’d put Hunter’s helmet above his grave, the last real symbol of the Bad Batch, and a last goodbye to the Clone Wars (since his helmet resembles the regs’ helmets the most)

They’d leave Tech’s goggles on his grave (if Tech stays dead) along with Lula. Omega would leave a bouquet of flowers from Pabu. What a powerful image that would be.

Omega could then go on to lead her own little batch. She’s made the friends and connections to do so. Crosshair and the others wouldn’t be too far behind.

It would be a touching resolution to Hunter’s and Crosshair’s and Omega’s arcs.

Other clues I think they’re dropping that support this theory:

-Omega’s new hair design. It’s perfect for her to wear Hunter’s bandana.

-Batcher joining the squad. She fills the tracking role.

-Crosshair’s increased screen time with Omega.

-Hunter’s increased desire to do whatever it takes to keep Omega safe, and the hints that he becomes reckless upon doing so.

-The Marauder exploding. Something about losing the home and the head of the home making for great storytelling.

-The idea of passing the torch of leadership to the next generation. From Clone Wars (TBB) to the new SW content (Omega)

-The fact that Jen Corbett said Hunter is her favorite character, and I’ve never known a female writer who doesn’t whump the hell out of their favorites the most (fr one of the most compelling arguments lol)

#the bad batch #star wars #clone wars #sw tbb #tbb #star wars tbb #hunter the bad batch #crosshair the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #omega the bad batch #tbb theories

[that-there-is-a-wierd0]

The genocide cannot continue, ceasefire now and forever.

I am still here, the last week I chose more to give the genocide in Palestine some additional boosting, since I do not see live updates as frequently on here. As the global strike draws to a close, continue to give Palestine and other countries a platform to further encourage peace for the oppressed and ultimately liberation.

RESOURCES:

Decolonize Palestine <- a whole website dedicated to learning about Palestinian history, also serves to dismantle the anti-Palestine rhetoric boasted by oppressors.

Esims for Gaza <- these are high priority, they allow people internet access including journalists who document what's happening on the ground.

Care for Gaza, Official Twitter <- non-profit charity that has a team dedicated to delivering primarily food.

Original Kufiya <- from "the last and only factory in Palestine", this textile has become a symbol of Palestinian liberation.

Pious Projects, Feminine Hygiene for Gaza project; <- another crowdfunded charity with many projects not exclusive to Gaza! Do note at the time of writing that feminine hygiene kits have reached 500k/150k$, which means you have a chance to donate to additional projects that haven't met their funding goals yet!

Accountability Archive<- If you see a leader, politician, government body, or anybody participating in the dehumanization of Palestinians, put it here! You can copy and paste URLs, and according to their website there has been over 7000+ submissions so far.

UNRWA (THREATENED) <- organization that distributes aid to Palestinians, now nine countries have CUT OFF FUNDING due to allegations of staff members being associated with the October 7th Hamas attack. You can donate through their website.

BOYCOTT AND PETITION:

The Official BDS list<- the list that has since went viral along side increasing visibility of the genocide; the list is updated fairly often and has a plausible amount of items to boycott.

Eurovision 2024 Boycott, Change.org petition<- Israel is still allowed to compete in the upcoming Eurovision 2024. The link leads to a contact list of broadcasters that you can contact to encourage the banning of Israel from performing in Eurovision. If nothing changes, simply do not watch Eurovision this year!!

Bring Mansour Home <- A Palestinian Canadian journalist who was very recently reported missing, witnesses say he was apprehended by the Israeli Defense Forces passing through a 'safe' passage. Link is an anonymous google document of people you can contact to advocate for Mansour's safety and return.

Help Noury Afford Emergency Surgery <- @Noony_Boony, also Noury, has been in Palestine before and during the genocide. Notable for documenting personal experiences like many other journalists, Noury specifically reminds us outside Palestine that people are not just numbers, they have dreams, fears, and places in fandom. Link is a GoFundMe where her entire family needs emergency surgery for injuries they suffered after getting hit with what is assumed tank shell in a school.

if there are any additional sources you want me to place here, or any links that are broken/need updating, pleaaaaase let me know!!!! :)

Do not be upset if you cannot donate or boycott all the things, just don't lose hope and keep spreading the word!!! This cannot be brushed under the rug, the genocide has gone on long enough!!

#cult of the lamb #cotl #cotl lamb #this was going to be a small post but i decided Palestine deserves more than a fan art #so this became a masterpost #israel #gaza #genocide #ethnic cleansing #palestine #i/p #i/p conflict #signal boost #boosting

[leclsrc]

could i get a carlos imagine where you have commitment issues and he calms you down? as a girlie with commitment/trust issues i just wanna b repped in one of ur fics/drabbles :/// it's tuff out here brotha

bring you home — cs55

Moving in together gets difficult. Carlos is there to ease you along. title from this

genre: fluff

auds here... i hope you enjoy this!!! i too am a commitment-afflicted girl ..... it truly is tough lol. but i hope u find the right person who helps u put ur anxieties to rest <3 insp by a scene from satc i saw on tiktok

It started with a duck. But the duck started with the box. And the box started with a toothbrush joke. And the toothbrush joke started with your old lady neighbor moving out. So really, it started with Mrs. McDonnell and her massive moving van rolling down the street and leaving the flat next door empty. Somehow that old hag had managed to irritate you long after she left, albeit through means not her own.

In terms of time, it started a month ago. In terms of people (sans the old bitch), it started with Carlos, as so many of your stories do. “Mrs. McDonald finally moved out today,” he’d said, hip against your stove, watching bits of garlic turn from pale to brown. From the living room you hummed affirmation and then laughed: “McDonnell.”

“Donald, Donnell, Dinero,” he rolled his eyes. “Everyone’s moving in and out. Charles bought a new place in Monaco.”

“Well,” you shrugged, fixing the ridden-up hem of your tank top, “you could have an extra toothbrush in here, if that gets y’there.”

He laughed, pointing at you with the oil-hot rubber tip of the spatula. You two had been dating for over a year at that point, yet any suggestions of moving in together remained vague, cloudish ideas in both of your heads. For him it was impractical; for you it was a little scary.

But a toothbrush, which he always had at your flat and you at his, wasn’t moving in together. Neither was a drawer of clothes and knick-knacks. It was a symbol of your busy lives and the intermittent intersections far and few between.

Except they’d been becoming less intermittent and a lot more constant. He was almost always at your flat, the wide two-bedroom you’d decided was a good place to live with your income and the area. You had two parking spaces, a good rep with the board, and a coffee shop across the street—a place all your own.

A little plus was you had Carlos on some free days, like that day—that fateful day he turned back to the pan and said, with a smile: “I should move in.”

You froze. “You’re asking—you’re telling me or the garlic?” In fits of nerves, you could only blurt out bad jokes.

He laughed but it was a small exhale of breath. “I’m serious.” He turned to you, brown eyes big.

Your heart swelled with something between apprehension and absolute excitement, that finally you were going to take a step you felt like you’d been waiting to take forever. “You are?” You asked, so giddily you could hear your own smile.

The truth was, you had moved in with a boyfriend before, offered him a key and suggested the entire affair, bought fresh flowers and cooked eggs and made coffee and lived the bliss you only read about in romance novels. Months later you caught him fucking somebody else in your bedroom, and years later the memory fails to purge itself from your mind or your habits, plaguing every inner thought you have.

But this, you assure yourself, is Carlos.

“Dead seriou—uuooof!” Carlos barely got to the end of his sentence, with the way you barrelled into him, smiling into the blocky build of his chest and muttering a repetitive yes yes yes into the cotton of his tee. He held you there, pressing a kiss to your hair and promising he’d be in with his boxes as soon as time made way.

—

“Make way,” you yell into the tiny gap between your door and its frame.

“Hey, hi, hello,” your boyfriend sing-songs. “How are you?”

In the month you’d spent watching your boyfriend move into your flat, you’d also been subjected to your complete lack of personal space. Every time you entered, he’d be there talking his head off. Every time you came home at night, he’d be there. You felt suffocated. Scared, even if you couldn’t sleep at night without some part of you touching him. You’re simply a human with needs, and you needed space. You needed silence. Needed it. Absolutely needed it. You knew this because every time you opened your own door, it collided with a—

“Box.” You shove yourself through the gap and wedge the door closed, pointing an accusatory finger at the cardboard. “Another box by the door. Don’t make me burn those,” you mutter, fussing with your hair and toeing off your Blahniks. Across the foyer, Carlos is nailing something into the wall, noisy and incessant and you want to shrink into the floor.

“Sorry, sorry. Lo siento. I have so many stuff.”

“Yeah! You do. My flat’s only nay fucking big,” you respond, raising your pointer finger and thumb to exaggerate the size of your (in actuality, wide) living space. “Carlos, couldn’t you unpack some of these? Just some. It’s—you know, it’s piling up. And you know I hate mess.”

“I know, baby. I will as soon as I finish this up. I promise.”

You nod once, sighing and moving into the study to gather your laptop for work. You’re halfway into the room, eyes scanning your desk’s surface and finding your Mac laying flat atop it, unassuming next to a figurine of a wooden duck. You pause and blink. The wooden duck does not, its eyes painted wide and smooth and you definitely did not purchase this duck.

Somehow, this is the straw that breaks your back.

“What is this duck doing here?!” You yell, voice loud even from the study into the foyer. Carlos pulls off the goggles he’d been wearing to drill shit into your wall and smiles. A gift from me.

“A gif—I, I, I don’t like ducks.” You flail your arms around. “I just… hearing you talk or drill as soon as I come into my own home feels weird. For so long I’ve been alone and… and I’m supposed to hear silence and I—I’m scared that you’re going to figure out how scared I am and you’re going to leave me.”

He just stares, eyebrows knitted. You smother a hand over your face. You pause and breathe for a minute, then two.

“It’s just—I’ve only lived with someone three months, and that was ages ago, and before that it was my parents, so. I’m going to be really frank with you and I’m sorry if this sounds… but I’m gonna close the bedroom door and I don’t want you to talk to me for thirty minutes. I need space. And keep the duck first. I’m sorry. Is that selfish? Is that okay?” When he shakes his head and then nods, you deposit it into his arms and back up into your room.

His face, torn between concerned and endeared, softens into an understanding, patient smile. Okay, he mouths. I love you, you mouth back, and then you’re shutting it softly, leaning your forehead against the white wood and letting a long exhale leave your lips. You half-expected him to fight you back, to raise his voice, but it’s your own worst expectations weighing down on you all over again, born out of memories of your ex.

You stay like that for a while, and slowly with the quiet you realize—you find the duck cute.

You like the boxes because they remind you this is becoming a home. You like hearing him talk because it means you know he’s there. (The drilling will always be irritating, but he makes it better.) You don’t dislike anything he does, but you’re not totally lying either: you are scared. Scared of the commitment it’d take to make this a sure thing. The commitment you’d given before and the commitment that’d been betrayed.

But this is Carlos. This is Carlos, who’s understood every part of you, who’s given you time and patience even when you didn’t know how much you needed it. The Carlos who knows how you like your toast, who eats the yolk off your sunny-side eggs and gives you the white of his hard-boiled ones. The Carlos who said I love you first, surprising you into shock, and then took it back in embarrassment before you cut him off with a kiss. The Carlos who stays.

The air clears and you breathe easier. You open the door after five minutes. “You okay?”

He’s unpacking a box. He turns and smiles wryly, mimicking a zip motion across his lips. He shakes his head. No talking, remember?

You pout, smiling. “Sorry if I’m neurotic.”

You pad softly toward him and it’s easy, too easy for him to pick you up into his arms, wrap your legs around his waist, stay standing and hugging you. He’s quiet still, patient, warm. “I like hearing you talk. I like your boxes. I like that you’re mine and we’re here.” You inhale. “‘M just scared. And I don’t… want to be, but I am, and… it’s just me. I’m crazy.”

“Hey, Crazy. So am I. Take your time.” He hugs you tighter. “I’m not gonna leave you, even if you hated the duck.” I didn’t, you say quietly. It was cute. “I know it’s hard, baby. I know. You have to let me take care of you. You have me, okay? You have me.”

“And when you’re not here?” Fear slithers up and tries to tug at you but his arms are around you, secure and holding you there, so you don’t let it.

The thing with needs, really, is when they’re met—met in the best, most understanding way, especially…

He kisses your neck. “I’ll always be.”

…You find you no longer need them at all.

#f1 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagines #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz drabble #carlos sainz x reader #f1 x reader

[quietmonologues]

So. I hate shipping discourse and I try to keep it off my blog nowadays. I also don't consider myself a part of the fandom. But, I find discussions about this series particularly engaging and interesting, and Elucien do have me in a bit of a chokehold these days so I feel the need to get this off my chest and put this out into the world.

A common question I see is "why do people ship Elucien? They don't even like each other". And to that, I say this:

What about it? This is why shipping discourse in this fandom (and in general) is so ridiculous, because why is there confusion as to why people ship Elain and Lucien together? SJM literally wrote them as a potential pairing, that's why she made them mates. Pairing = shipping. It's not rocket science.

Two characters not liking each other is never gonna be a deterrent for them becoming canon or for people liking them as a ship. That's why enemies to lovers is such a popular trope. However way you define enemies (on opposite sides of a war like Zuko and Katara, or thinking ill of one another based on misunderstandings and assumptions like Darcy and Elizabeth), when it's done well, the story of two characters changing their opinion about each other, getting to know each other on a deeper level, and growing to love each other after their initial discomfort/hatred/loathing/indifference is a compelling story. It's about the journey, the development, and overcoming all the hurdles and bumps that are in their way.

Another reason for why the "they dislike each other" argument is so weak is because you literally have two other canon couples in this same series who had very rough starts. No matter how you feel about these two pairings, it's blatantly clear that Rhys and Cassian did put Feyre and Nesta in uncomfortable situations and have hurt them (physically/emotionally). But clearly, that was not a deterrent for them getting together in the end. So why the heck are Lucien and Elain different? Why is "Elain is so uncomfortable around Lucien" a continuous argument? It's so hypocritical given the fact that Lucien is the only guy that isn't forcing himself upon his mate.

Also, I'm sorry but some people (me...I'm some people) are tired of the "dark, battle-born, winged-warrior brother" and "previously human, traumatized archeron sister" pairing. Elain and Lucien are both associated with nature, they're both social and like interacting with people, they both experienced a deep love previously, they both abhor violence, they are both overlooked by others yet have the ability to see what others can't. They are a compatible pairing to me because they share many characteristics that are harmonious and complementary. They are the anti-thesis of Night Court aesthetics and thought, and if they ever have a book together then I can only hope it's the best one in the series.

And yes, the "Elain needs sunshine" and "Lucien is the heir to the Day Court" connection is important, my goodness. That's what symbolism is!

Sometimes it's that simple.

Okay, that's enough shipping discourse from me.

#acotar #elucien #pro elucien #anti elriel #i guess? #to all my mutuals...i'm sorry but back in the day this blog was a book blog so maybe i'm going back to my roots! #and yes this was spurred by that post i say in the tags where op was wondering why people ship elucien...which was promptly deleted! #bookworm

[irmise]

I dreamed about you

After so many years of waiting, here is finally the epilogue of this love story... And of course, Michonne occupies all his thoughts, she is his strength in trying to escape, the letters he writes to her, the drawings of her allow him to keep a little hope even when everything seems desperate. He is ready to cut off his hand to escape because whatever happens, his wife, his daughter will always remain his only  choice.

From their first interaction in TOWL, we see a parallel with their last: both moments come straight from Rick's imagination and they both highlight the importance that Michonne has in his life.

Rick was left hallucinating on that bridge telling Michonne that she was his family and that he had found her. Michonne telling him why she fell in love with him, because he never gave up. Even in agony, he remembers that she believes in him. It's seeing her that gives him the strength to get up and try to fight one last time.

And now, torn from his family, it's her he dreams about, in a world without apocalypse, he dreams of what could have been their first meeting. Michonne appears to show him the road to take when he is lost, she believes in him to find his way.

Isn’t that what she’s always done? The one who believed in him when everyone else doubted, when HE doubted himself. She didn't have to be on the same page to know that he would always do what was right in the end. She always showed him the right direction. I remember writting on an old post: "Rick guides Alexandria, Michonne guides Rick" : She always believed in his leadership and she was his compass to guide him and she still is in his dream.

That’s the most beautiful here, in a single dream we find their dynamic, the one we have seen since the start of their journey.

Are you where you want to be ? That's the whole question. Where he wants to be is close to her, it's where he feels safe, it's near her that he feels stronger. So much so that this place he is looking for in this dream no longer matters because he found her.

She became his family, his reason to be happy and to believe in the future even after the darkest times, even after Carl. She once asked him “Don’t you want one more day with a chance?” and he agreed to follow her and hold on to a little hope. And today, even far from her, it’s dreaming of her that keeps him going.

The second dream bears so many parallels too, Michonne with her white dress, like the dream of what a happy ending would have been for Rick in an ideal world.

It made me think about Glenn's death when Rick imagined this moment with all the family he had created in this apocalyptic world. I thought of this scene because of the white dress Michonne was wearing. I remember that at that time, I said to myself that there must be something symbolic in him imagining her in a white dress.

And there we are, her wearing a white dress again and him asking her to marry him. Michonne, his wife, that's his purpose...

The two of them can get through anything and even in his dreams it's a certainty. Together they are invicible by the strength that each gives to the other: "We can make this whole damn world ours if we want to". Like an echo of what he had said to her one day, when nothing seemed impossible with her by his side... “The world’s ours, and we know how to take it”.

He needs her to get there even if it's only in a dream because as she tells him before he wakes up, she believes in him as always...

And that's the problem… All his dreams, his letters, these drawings on these phones, are so many hopes that he must erase if he really wants to be able to become the "savior" that Okafor asks him to be. Agree to forget the love of his life to try to save as many people as possible, sacrificing the little hope he had left. Because even if he found a way to escape, he would put her and their family in danger if only because Okafor found his letter... Rick finally understands that he must give up. And that's also what this episode was about, Rick who gradually loses hope of finding his family, to the point of wanting to kill himself, to the point of no longer dreaming of Michonne, to the point of destroying everything which allowed him to fight.

So desperate that when Michonne takes off his helmet in the last scene he has his eyes closed ready to accept his fate until he opens his eyes and faces hope.

And that's their story isn't it ? She always appears when he's lost, to guide him.

#richonne #towl

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐀𝐬 𝐈𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐬 - 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫'𝐬 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 2.6k

chapter summary: you decide to host a New Year's party and when Joel shows up soaked to the bone thanks to the rain, you lead him to the bathroom to dry him up.

warnings: piv, secret relationship, dirty talk, joel getting really creative with the shower head

a/n: let's just consider this little fic an alternative version of the question "what if the outbreak didn't happen plus tommy still doesn't know about you and joel" Normally he would learn before outbreak day no matter if the outbreak happens or not but I wanted to keep the sneaking around bit for this one soooo

I would also like to thank everyone who has been following the story! Every comment is precious to me and I appreciate it more than you realize. I'm so happy people are still enjoying it, I have big plans for this series and I will be finishing it spring time. I hope the new year brings you all peace and happiness, happy new year everyone!

**divider by the talented @saradika-graphics xx

Rain washes away everything. It washes away the dirt of the street, rejuvenates the drying trees, makes the grass greener. In Austin rain truly is a blessing. Every living thing hungers for it. To you, it symbolizes the new beginnings and the losses. You half listen to the chatter between Olivia and Tommy as you peek out the window, smooth drops cascading down the surface. For some, the rain wasn’t an ideal weather to have during New Year’s, but to you, it only made the atmosphere cozier. 

The crowded party buzzes around you, people laughing, dancing, and sharing stories. You can't help but notice familiar faces from the community seamlessly mingling with Tommy and Olivia's friends, since you were still relatively new you didn’t know many people other than neighbors and asked them to invite people. The room echoes with the joy of New Year's Eve.

It’s been a painful yet surprising year, to say the least. The loss of your grandfather, the unexpected move, the journey to find yourself. . . all of it had been a bit much, a bit daunting. However, as your mind drifts off to the new room in the old house you realize that some things are truly different. You have people who care about you now. You have the Miller’s, Olivia, your art. All in all, it had also been an amazing year. 

The thought makes guilt gnaw at your insides. Tommy still doesn’t know about you and Joel, you were supposed to tell him. . .Joel was supposed to tell him but alas neither of you found the courage to come clean. The past couple of months had been so blissful with him. Neither of you wanted to give that up. 

The faint smell of cinnamon reaches your nose and you find yourself smiling even though you’re only slightly worried. 

Joel’s late. 

“He’s fine,” you hear Tommy whine, turning around you see him rolling his eyes. “He’s a big boy, sweetheart. He’ll be okay in a little bit of rain.” 

Big boy, indeed. 

“Where is he anyway?” Olivia asks, stuffing her mouth full of crackers. 

“He went to drop off Sarah—and there’s plenty of food, you’re not off to war you know. You can eat one at a time.” 

Olivia slapped Tommy’s shoulder and took a seat next to him, “Bit weird she’s not gonna be here with us.” 

“Sarah’s been beggin’ Joel for months. Finally, he caved when she pulled the ‘you know how hard it’s been for me to make friends’ card. Poor man didn’t stand a chance.” 

“So,” you continue, sitting across from them. “They spent Christmas together, just the two of them. That was Joel’s deal. And she’s doing her own laundry for two months.” 

“Damn, I hope the party is worth it.” Olivia gives you a mischievous grin, her eyes lighting up as they meet your gaze. "You know," she starts, leaning in slightly, "I have this friend, Jake. . .” 

You cut her off, "I'm good, Liv. I'm not looking for anything right now."

"Oh, come on! He's sweet, handsome, and he's got a great sense of humor. You two would hit it off."

Your gaze quickly shifts between Tommy and Olivia. His expression tightens ever so slightly, and you catch the subtle change. Olivia, oblivious, or at least choosing to be, continues.

"Just imagine it. A romantic date, a nice dinner, maybe a movie... He’ll treat you right and if he doesn’t I’ll break his arms."

"Liv, really, I appreciate it, but I'm not ready for that kind of thing. Besides, I'm pretty content with how things are right now."

Olivia narrows her eyes. "It’s been a year, you’re ready for one date. Trust me." Then, much to your horror, she turns to Tommy and gestures to you. “Back me up Tommy, isn’t she ready?” 

Tommy clears his throat, looking uncomfortable as ever. He parts his lips and worry knots itself deep in your stomach. 

Luckily, you’re saved by a slightly drunk woman you don’t recognize and let out a break of relief. She situates herself next to Tommy, throwing a hand over his broad shoulder, she pulls him close and whispers something in his ear, fingers playfılly dancing over the fabric of his shirt. Olivia rolls her eyes but honestly, you’re happy and grateful for the distraction. 

You’re saved a second time when the door opens, the sudden sound of rain drawing your attention. You smile instinctively upon seeing Joel, which is a bit rude you figure, because he looks miserable. His leather jacket is dripping, hair sticking to his forehead. Just how hard was it pouring outside? Must’ve picked up when you, Olivia, and Tommy were chatting along. 

Joel, with dropped shoulders and head, spots Tommy first and then you. He makes his way, the defeated walk making him look like a teenager. Tommy bursts out laughing when he sees his older brother, the sound deepens the furrow between Joel’s brows. 

“You look like shit!” Tommy says and you notice Olivia desperately trying to hide her laughter behind her palm. 

“It’s rainin’ cats and dogs you jackass.” Your eyes move up gradually up his body. The rain had darkened the color of his shirt, the flimsy fabric sticking to the planes of his chest. Heat rises to your cheeks. “Is there anythin’ I can burrow sweet tea? Maybe somethin’ that August left behind?” 

“What?” you clear your throat, blinking, you meet his gaze. His knowing smile is enough to set fire between your legs. “Sorry didn’t quite catch that.” 

“Shirt,” he says, lips curling. “Unless you want me drippin’ all over your couch, somethin’ dry would be nice.” He raises a brow when you continue to stare at him, dazed. “Maybe your brother left behind somethin’?” 

Oh god, he’s spelling every word slow and careful meaning he definitely knows you’ve been ogling him. You get up quickly, ignoring the proximity between your bodies, you’d expected him to take a step back but he was as still as stone. You’re like an open book, hopefully, the pretty lady perched next to Tommy is enough to distract him. 

“Yeah, sure,” you answer, breathing a bit heavily. You don’t need to say anything else as you begin to part the crowd, leading him upstairs to the bathroom. You can feel him right behind you, the heat radiating off of him warming your back. 

Finally reaching the bathroom, you push him inside and quickly close the door, leaning against it, you let out a breath. 

However, you don’t get to breathe in when you feel a pair of lips against your own. You shudder as his soaked chest presses against yours, hands cupping your waist, Joel guides your hips towards him. He’s hard as a rock. He swallows the soft voices climbing up your throat and grinds roughly against you. 

“Fuck, honey,” he rasps, dragging his lips to your cheek. “You really know how to get a man goin’.” 

“I didn’t even do anything.” 

“You starin’ at me like you’re about to devour me ain’t nothin’.” he nips at your neck, your body burning at the sharpness. “I’ve missed you too.” 

“Don’t remember saying that,” you tease and thread your finger through the wet locks. “You’re cold.”

“You should warm me up then.” 

You slip your hands under his shirt, not missing the way he shudders against you. He brings his lips back up, only an inch away, but refuses to close the distance. You keep stroking him. Warm palms moving up and down against cold and damp skin. Joel’s forehead drops onto yours. 

“You do realize there’s a party going on outside right? A part that includes your brother, who we are keeping us a secret from.” 

“For someone worried about the crowd you’re doin’ a whole lot to tempt me, darlin’.” he kisses your jaw. “You look beautiful by the way.” 

You’re happy to hear that because he was the only reason why you decided to wear a low-cut shimmering silver dress. You had also opted to wear an almost sheer pair of black stockings underneath, giving your legs a lovely glow.  

“Why thank you, kind sir.” 

“I love it when you call me sir,” he groans and presses harder against you. Your eyes flutter closed but despite it, you can feel his gaze taking in the bathroom. “You fancied up the place quite a bit.” 

A hoarse laughter escapes your throat, “You should thank the crowd downstairs for the fancy towels and the smell of vanilla.” 

“You know. . . now that I’m thinkin’ about it it ain’t fair I’m the only one wet.” 

“Believe me, Joel, I am soaking wet.” 

“That’s not what I meant sunshine,” he gives you a lopsided smile before tugging you towards the tub. “Come’re.”

You wordlessly follow him into the porcelain, your curiosity piqued. His fingertips trace up your waist and find the hidden zipper, slowly, he tugs it down, the sound of it inaudible from the beating of your heart. The dress pools under your knees and your gaze is fixed on him as you step out of the soft fabric. While you’re taking in the sight of his hair curling on his forehead, he takes in the sight of the soft contours of your body. He presses a soft kiss against your stomach, a shudder crawls up your spine. 

“Turn around.” He orders, voice dropping to a whisper. 

“What about my stockings?” 

“I’ll take care of’em.” 

You brace your hand against the wall, sticking your ass out, you smile when you hear the hitch of his breath. His knuckles follow the curve of your spine and a second later you hear a loud rip. 

“Joel—“

“I’ll get you new ones.” You feel him reaching up and at the same time, he slides your panties to the side. He hums. “You are wet.”

“Told you so.”

You hear a soft click, you’re barely able to register the sound as he begins to dip between your folds and stroke. Somehow your brain whispers to you that he’s adjusting the pressure of the shower head. “What are you doing back there?” 

“Remember when you told me how much you enjoyed the different settings when I changed the pipes and the shower head?” You honestly didn’t. “Well, I haven’t, darlin’.” 

He turns on the water, away from you thankfully, but you still tense at how cold it is as it gathers at the bottoms of your feet. 

“I know baby, I know. It’ll get warmer soon.” 

And it does. Your body relaxes, the subtle warmth prompting the arch of your back. Joel gently pushes your legs apart, pushing the shower head between your legs directly onto your—

“Oh god—Joel, fuck—“

“Such a filthy mouth for such a good girl,” he says into your ear. “Bet you’ve done this before sweetheart.” 

You had, well. . . You tried. But it hadn’t felt as good at this. A single forceful stream of insistent water massages your clit. The arousal that pulses between your legs is washed away down your thighs. Without even realizing you start to hold your breath and embarrassingly enough you roll your hips. 

You need more. You need him. 

Your legs part wider, trembling as you try to tell him but instead of sentences needy whimpers echo from your throat. You feel his smile on the back of your neck, teeth scraping your warm skin every time your hips twitch. He starts moving the showerhead and your entire body goes numb. It’s so much but so little at the same time. 

“You’re being loud, sweetheart.” You shake your head, trying desperately to bite back the moans. “But maybe you like the idea of our friends hearing how needy you get for me.” 

You clench at the words, nails scraping against the smooth surface of the wall. 

“Please. . .” 

“Please what?” 

Damn him. 

“Fuck me,” you gasp out. “Fuck me please—I’m. . . I’m going insane.” As if to demonstrate your words, you grind down until the shower head spreads your folds, a groan reverberating in your throat as the water fills every inch. “Just fuck me, give me your cock.” 

“What if I say I want you to come like this?” 

You don’t even think as you answer, “I’ll cry.” 

He stills like the calm before the storm then bursts out laughing. Some logical part of your brain is urging you to shush him, remind him that people might hear but you can’t when he sounds so joyful. His deep voice full of life. 

“Fine, sweet tea, you win. Wouldn’t want you to cry durin’ New Year’s.” 

Joel turns off the water and you turn, facing him as he does. His eyes widen when you cup his cheeks, he’s so warm now, so soft from the steam. “Let’s head to my bedroom,” you mutter. “Auggie’s spare clothes are there anyway.” 

His hands softly land on your hips, thumbs moving over the waistband of your stockings. “You sure?” 

“I want to see you when you bury yourself into me.” 

That’s all he needs to hear before dragging you out of the bathroom. You both hurry, the sound of the party still lively downstairs. Luckily your bedroom is close to the bathroom so there isn’t much risk as you follow him out half naked, your sparkling dress in hand. 

As soon as you both enter the bedroom, his lips are on yours, pushing you towards the bed until the back of your knees hits the edge and you fall. He follows your dive, his weight pleasant on top of you. 

Feeling numb with want, you quickly tug his shirt off of him, and his hands fumble with his belt. Joel doesn’t even bother to take his pants off completely. He frees himself with one hand and pushes in without a word. You both moan, mouths inches apart from each other. Neither of you breaks away from the eye contact. It’s so intimate like this. Your cheeks burning at how naked you feel having him witness the parting of your lips, the flutter of your gaze. 

You feel so full, so complete. The slow drag of his cock making you see starts every time he presses forward, brushing against something devastating inside you with every move. Tears gather in your lashes and he kisses them away. Then he drags his lips down to your neck, sucking at nipping. Your breath catches in your throat, your back arching as you clench around him. He groans into your skin, thrusts becoming shallow and quick. 

“I’m not gonna last, honey,” he rasps. “Tell me where.” 

Just as he says that his hand slides between your bodies, finding your throbbing clit. He draws quick circles, your muscles constricting immediately. At the very last second Joel covers your mouth with his own, muffling your cry as you gush around him, insides twitching and pulsing. He swallows the sounds hungrily. “Where?” he growls against your lips. 

“On my pussy,” you gasp. “Want to feel you there.” 

He tugs at your bottom lip with his teeth before moving away, you spread your legs further, pushing yourself apart with two fingers. Your mouth waters at the sight of him. His hand wrapped tightly around his cock as he strokes himself. It doesn’t take him long to come undone. Your eyes roll when you feel it. The vicious spurt of his come, the way it drips. It feels like it lasts forever. He comes and comes and comes— painting you with his seed. 

When he’s done, he slips his softening cock back inside, pushing himself deeper into you. You both whimper in unison, and he nuzzles the crook of your neck.  You begin to play with the ends of his hair, nails scratching the back of his neck. 

“Happy New Year, Joel.” 

“Happy New Year, sweet tea.” 

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #tommy miller x reader #stay in bed new years special #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfic

[pbelfz]

Two to One | 14 |

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader x Midoriya Chapter Title: Angling Chapter 13 | Chapter 15 Story Masterlist Summary: You are a simple college girl working at a cheap, back alley café! The top heroes, Deku and Ground Zero, visit your work in hopes of ordering coffee, but they pick something else up instead. You begin an interesting relationship with the pair, while slowly becoming aware of certain underhanded tactics they are using. Idolization isn't always that bad... Right?

WARNINGS: coercion, corruption kink, virginity loss,

“So, Deku, have you seen what news articles are saying about you recently?”

The TV talk show host, Ema, on her show, Ema, changed the topic to an attention-grabber, and the audience noticeably silenced. Izuku sat across from her, relaxed in a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up half-way and the top two buttons undone. He must have shaved this morning – or his makeup crew did it for him – because the light stubble that was growing in was nowhere to be seen.

The interview played on the small cable television kept in the staff backroom of Satou’s. (Y/n) was on lunch break and glanced periodically at the TV, trying to convince herself she didn’t actually want to watch.

Deku smiled back at the host. (Y/n) knew that he was probably aching to slouch in that chair or at least rest his cheek in his palm. It wouldn’t be a good look for the Symbol of Peace, though. The public didn’t know how tired he always was.

“There’s quite a lot of news articles that say a lot of things about me,” Deku replied, and he wasn’t wrong. (Y/n) had been wise to keep her Deku and Dynamight news consumption limited to Twitter – for what it was worth, anyway.

Ema grinned, glancing at the crowd and back to Izuku.

“Well,” she started, “Some people have noticed how often you cross your legs, Deku.” Her gaze flickered to Izuku’s current posture. His legs were crossed, all right. The camera zoomed in on them. Izuku waited patiently.

(Y/n) never took her eyes off of Izuku. His brow twitched the slightest hint at the urge to furrow, but he didn’t. He continued to offer a kind yet curious closed-mouth smile.

“And we all know what it means when a man is able to cross his legs!” Ema looked to the crowd, checking her own presentation in the monitor.

The crowd was heard giggling, especially when Izuku finally made a face that must have been itching to press through. However, he’s been in the public eye for eleven years now; he’s learned many tricks of de-escalation, redirection, and humor.

Izuku kept his legs crossed and a soft smile. He fought the desire to shift in his seat, knowing how talk show hosts picked apart any sign of weakness for the audience’s pleasure, even if it wasn’t on a predetermined script. “I don’t really think that tracks…,” Izuku’s reply wasn’t as well-thought out as it could have been. He was juggling to maintain composure and his reputation for a comment that was off-script. As the Symbol of Peace and the Number One Hero, Deku became rather strict about how his image was viewed.

“Oh, really?” Ema gave the audience and then Izuku an impressed look. (Y/n) noticed Izuku’s smile was less prominent now.

Izuku then took his Ema-branded and provided mug of coffee that was sitting on the table between them and gave a purposefully overexaggerated sip. The audience laughed. Ema laughed as well, and while everyone was distracted with Izuku’s slight diversion, he sent a glance at his personal assistant, who was standing just out of sight behind the stage. She understood what his look meant. Izuku continued to smile as he set the cup back down on the table.

Sakurai, Izuku’s assistant, quickly made her way over to Izuku’s head of PR team, Fukuda, who had already communicated to Ema’s team that Izuku would no longer be a guest on Ema in the future. Sakurai briefly mentioned that Ema should quickly change the topic or otherwise face a lawsuit for a breach of contract. The head of Ema’s team hurried to signal her from her earpiece.

“So, Uravity was–,” Ema hesitated, and Izuku knew she must have gotten the signal. “You and Uravity teamed up this past week against a class SS villain. What was that like?”

Izuku uncrossed his legs, smoothing his pants, much more comfortable to discuss hero work. (Y/n) lifted an eyebrow at the TV. She wondered what all that was about.

Katsuki’s kisses had a tendency to come with unchecked desperation, almost like he was searching for something within (Y/n). She wondered if he kissed Izuku with the same heat, but as her eyes watched him pulling away from Izuku, still sucking on his tongue, she couldn’t help but want a taste, too.

Izuku’s cock prodded against the inside of (Y/n)’s cheek, heavy and thick. Watching them kiss above her proved to be distracting, as her previously long licks and sucks mellowed into kitten licks. Izuku broke away from Katsuki once more, looking down at (Y/n) in his lap. His hand rested on her cheek with his thumb making its way between her lips, pulling her mouth open even further. She looked gorgeous – the most beautiful he’d seen her – with his hardened penis slipping slightly out from her slacked jaw.

“You okay?” He voiced his concern. He checked in with her more regularly than Katsuki did. (Y/n) was brought back to the task at hand, and she wrapped her lips around Izuku’s tip once again, swirling her tongue around his slit. Izuku watched, captivated, his chest heaving as he groaned with each suck. Katsuki’s cock bobbed next to her face as he kneeled next to her. It was almost teasing, the way it brushed against her jaw. She glanced up at Katsuki, now taking Izuku further into her mouth, allowing him to sink deeper as he tested her limits, but Katsuki was fixated on sucking on Izuku’s nipples. With a cock stuffing her throat, she sputtered, but Izuku stayed where he was.

“It’s okay, you’re doing fine,” came Izuku’s words from above her. She felt his hands on her jaw, massaging her neck to allow him in further. She whimpered around him, opening her mouth even wider as Izuku slipped almost to the hilt. “Oh, fuck… Watch the teeth, baby,” he directed her, feeling her throat swallow around his shaft. “Ohhhh, my god…”

Katsuki marveled at (Y/n). Tears were streaming down her face, the most he’d ever seen. He bent down, kissing Izuku’s navel and then his tuft of pubes before he felt (Y/n) attempt to push him off of her. Izuku pulled out immediately. Spit and precum engulfed Izuku’s cock and spilled out of (Y/n)’s mouth as she gasped for air. Izuku knelt down, capturing her lips in an open-mouth kiss, swallowing everything.

Katsuki yanked Izuku off of her, smashing his lips against Izuku’s. He’d been left out long enough. As soon as she recovered, (Y/n) hungrily took Katsuki’s cock into her mouth, making him moan against Izuku.

However, he hesitantly pulled away from her. He shared a glance with Izuku, and (Y/n) watched as they silently shared a conversation with just one look. Izuku met (Y/n)’s eye with a small, kind smile. He knelt down, embracing her and exchanging a sweet kiss on the lips before pulling away.

“Do you think… tonight is the night?”

(Y/n)’s stomach stirred at Izuku’s suggestion. She saw movement in the corner of her eye, finding Katsuki flicking his wrist around his shaft. He waited a moment before speaking up.

“She’s more than ready,” fervor dripped off his tongue. (Y/n) didn’t have a moment to reply, yelping as Katsuki repositioned her onto Izuku’s lap, lying her back against him and facing Katsuki. She finally got a good look at the Number Two Hero’s face, and he was damn near ravenous. She felt Izuku’s hands on her – or were they Katsuki’s? – stroking her arms, her legs, her hair. The men moved with such fluidity and harmony; someone was spreading her legs, and someone else was stroking her breast. Izuku’s hard cock pressed between her cheeks, mere centimeters away from her cunt.

A honeyed haze clouded Izuku’s foresight. “Lube, Kacchan,” Izuku held his hand out, and Katsuki passed him a tube of their preferred lubrication from the nightstand drawer. (Y/n)’s breathing picked up, but neither of them seemed to notice. Why weren’t they noticing? She heard Izuku pop open the tube, and Katsuki’s fingers were stroking her slit, paying particular attention to her clit. (Y/n) squirmed against Izuku, who shushed her. She was feeling hot, too hot, too warm. Everything was burning. They were too close, there were too many bodies. She was going to suffocate.

Izuku reached forward, and his lube-covered fingers gently prodded (Y/n)’s pussy, easily dipping inside. Izuku pulled out, reaching further to stroke her pucker with his fingers, making (Y/n) gasp and recoil slightly at the intrusion. Or were they Katsuki’s fingers? God, help her. Regardless, Katsuki laughed, low and sensual.

“Who’s takin’ which hole?” Katsuki addressed Izuku, his eyes fixated on (Y/n)’s sopping cunt. Izuku’s fingers swept through (Y/n)’s hair; he appeared to be thinking.

“Stop…”

Both men paused immediately.

“Stop, please.” Her voice was no more than a whisper; it surprised her they heard her at all.

Katsuki shot backwards, unraveling himself from (Y/n), while Izuku’s brow wrinkled into a furrow, looking down at her in his arms. They hadn’t noticed she’d been crying. Izuku swiftly shifted and turned her around in his lap, cradling her. It was almost instinctual how he attended to her.

“Hey…,” he was kind. He put on his hero tone, the one he used with children who cried after being saved. “What do you need from me, hm?” (Y/n) felt stupid and small when he spoke like that, but right now, it made her feel safe. (Y/n)’s silent tears quickly became sobs. Katsuki watched with wide eyes as Izuku rocked her softly. The men exchanged looks, but they said no words. Guilt washed over the two of them, but Katsuki felt it smack him harder than Izuku. “We stopped. We’re done, we stopped,” Izuku’s hushed whispers consoled her.

“I’m sorry,” Katsuki’s tone was muffled and quiet – or as quiet as it could be. The apology slipped out easily, naturally almost. How many times would he have to apologize to her? Katsuki didn’t move from his spot, kneeling at the corner of the bed, putting himself as far away from (Y/n) and Izuku as he could. Izuku pressed his lips to (Y/n)’s temple. He inhaled, smelling the sweet scent of her leave-in conditioner.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” he uttered to her. Katsuki only watched, unsure what to do. Out of all of his years of quirk-training, his hands have never felt so heavy and out of his control. He wanted to help, to reach out and hold her, too, but he was afraid of making things worse.

“We don’t have to do anything else tonight,” Izuku stated, both to (Y/n) and Katsuki. (Y/n) then seemed to spring upright, and Izuku let her, watching as she wiped her tears away, but her sniffling remained.

“No, no. I can do this. I can,” she was convincing herself than the heroes. Izuku looked her in the eye, frowning. He kept himself from shaking his head. He felt like (Y/n) might be too sensitive for anything disapproving right now.

“Do you want to get some ice cream? Watch a movie, maybe?” Izuku offered alternative things to help calm (Y/n) down. Katsuki’s gaze turned downward. Something filled Katsuki, almost akin to envy but darker. They both had approached (Y/n), so why did he feel like the only bad guy in the room?

Katsuki huffed, unable to gather his words, watching (Y/n) slowly nod. She wasn’t ready for this. Not both of them, anyway. 

Izuku leapt up from the bed. “Well, good!” Katsuki and (Y/n) watched him. Izuku shimmied back into his pajama bottoms. “Let’s go watch a movie, then.” He turned to face his partners, taking in (Y/n)’s red-rimmed eyes.

“I’ve been dying to watch the new Spider-Verse movie!” (Y/n) knew Izuku was trying to lighten the mood, and she appreciated it. He held her pajama shirt, which was previously forgotten about, along with her matching shorts on the bed. “Arms up!”

(Y/n) unenthusiastically put her arms up for Izuku to place her shirt over her head. The cotton slipped on easily, Izuku making sure her hair didn’t get caught anywhere. (Y/n) reached behind her and retrieved her shorts, slipping them on herself. Katsuki watched them both as he pulled his own pajama bottoms back on; Izuku hadn’t looked at him since they called it quits tonight. Neither had (Y/n).

Izuku held his hand out for (Y/n) to hold, and he pulled her to her feet. Her tears had dried, and her sniffling faded. She was shaken up, feeling guilty for leading them on. Katsuki watched Izuku lead (Y/n) out of the bedroom, heading for the living room to start the movie.

Katsuki sat on the bed, removing himself.

He slept in the bed alone that night, while Izuku and (Y/n) slept on the couch.

“We need to talk about last night,” Katsuki stood at the door of Izuku’s home office. It was six in the morning, and everyone was preparing for the day – Izuku and Katsuki more than (Y/n), who waded around in the kitchen with instant coffee in her hand, threatening to spill on the floor with each sleepy sip she took.

Izuku glanced up at Katsuki from his computer before returning his attention back to the monitor. Izuku liked to squeeze in a jog in the early mornings, so he wore blue gym shorts and a compression shirt that clung and stretched around his pectorals. He was trying to send some files to his work email and sidekicks before he started his day.

Izuku’s fingers moved with lightning dexterity on the keyboard. “We will,” he replied without looking at Katsuki. The latter scoffed.

“Will we?” Katsuki sounded more direct than he intended to, making Izuku finally offer a punitive stare in his direction. Katsuki glared back at him. All the All Mights on Izuku’s office merchandise seemed to become even more lifeless than they already were.

“Kacchan, I’ve got it handled,” Izuku attempted to pacify his partner. He was too tired for this. (Y/n) appeared beside Katsuki in the doorframe.

“Is something wrong?” She asked in the middle of a yawn. It was a question she found herself asking too often with these two. Katsuki all but pushed her into Izuku’s office.

“We need to talk about last night,” he blared, pulling out chairs for himself and her to sit in. Izuku rubbed his face, stretching the skin of the corners of his eyes, and ran a hand through his hair. When something nibbled at Katsuki’s nerves, he just couldn’t let it go. It was like an ice pick, picking away at his scalp. He wanted this settled, and he wanted this settled now.

“Katsuki, I’m supposed to be out the door by now,” Izuku tried.

“Too fuckin’ bad, Deku. Family meeting,” Katsuki slouched across from Izuku at his desk, his knees spread wide and his arms crossed, with (Y/n) sitting beside him. She just wanted this over with.

Izuku checked his watch. A gold Rolex that (Y/n) could’ve sworn she’d seen Katsuki wear before. They must’ve had matching ones.

“Alright,” Izuku relented with a sigh of a word, leaning down and rummaging through a drawer on his desk. The sooner they got this over with, the sooner everyone could start their day. Izuku sat back up, placing a few documents on the empty space of his desk. (Y/n) couldn’t see the details of the text from her angle.

“(Y/n), are you okay?” Izuku finally addressed her. They locked eyes, and the first thing (Y/n) noticed was that Izuku wasn’t smiling.

(Y/n) played with the ends of her hair – an anxious trait that both Katsuki and Izuku’s eyes flickered towards. “Yeah, I’m fine… Last night just shook me up a bit.”

“Is there anything we can do differently next time to make you more comfortable?” Izuku asked. (Y/n) glanced between the two of them. She couldn’t help but feel like this was a business transaction, especially being seated at Izuku’s desk like his consumers.

She stumbled over her words. “I don’t know. I mean, maybe? I was just overwhelmed. I didn’t know what to do.”

Katsuki butt in, louder than he should’ve been and shaking his head. “You didn’t have to do anything.” Izuku’s posture didn’t falter as he continued to face (Y/n), but he gave Katsuki a pointed look.

“We can try again whenever you feel ready. There’s no rush,” Izuku commented, picking up the forms and placing them back in a drawer of his desk. (Y/n) watched his scarred hands move about the polished cedar top, wondering if a similar one sat in his agency office.

Katsuki stared at Izuku. He already apologized, but Izuku had not. Katsuki’s finger tapped on his bicep.

“In the meantime,” Izuku’s gaze flickered away. He appeared hesitant. “We can establish a safe word. To use whenever you want us to stop what we’re doing.”

Katsuki looked to (Y/n), who glanced between the two heroes. “Safe word?”

“A word you say to let your partner know to stop everything. We can also use the traffic light system: green, yellow, red. Green means we can keep going, yellow typically means to slow down or check in, and red means to stop,” Izuku was on the cusp of rambling.

“Why can’t I just say ‘stop’?”

Izuku and Katsuki met eyes, and Katsuki scratched the back of his neck. Izuku answered.

“Sometimes, it can be unclear if you actually want to stop. A safe word allows for no discrepancies.”

(Y/n) nodded, but she wasn’t sure she understood quite yet. “Do you and Katsuki already have one?”

“It’s ‘Bronze Age’,” Katsuki grumbled. “Finger snapping if we can’t use our mouth.”

(Y/n)’s chest thumped at the implication. “Can I use the same, then?”

Both men nodded quietly, and Izuku finally smiled, checking his watch. 6:15am. He stood, ready to head to the door and go on a quick morning jog.

“You on birth control?” Katsuki blurted. Izuku jolted at what appeared to be his volume, pausing with his hands on the top of the desk just as he pushed his chair out to stand. It was admittedly a question he was also curious about. (Y/n) jumped, too, eyes bolting.

“I am.”

There was a pause no longer than a beat. “But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with unprotected sex! Um–!”

Izuku silently released a breath, and Katsuki relaxed, too.

The “family meeting” concluded itself, as Izuku would be running late if they continued. (Y/n) didn’t feel like this conversation was over, though. Izuku was the first to leave, skipping his morning jog entirely and throwing his daily routine off. It didn’t bother him as much as it would have Katsuki.

Katsuki waited at the door for (Y/n) to put her shoes on. He was dropping her off on campus today. He hadn’t said a word since Izuku left, but that was normal.

“Thank you for wanting to talk about that, Katsuki,” (Y/n) said as she tied her laces. Katsuki grunted in response.

“Izuku’s such a gentleman,” she was thinking aloud, remembering how Izuku prioritized her comfort over his own sexual pleasure. Safe words were a new concept to her, and she felt warm at being introduced to them. Katsuki snickered from above her, and she tilted her head to look at him.

“You kiddin’? Idiot fucks like a rabbit.”

Date nights felt magical and yet few and far between with Katsuki and Izuku. It was difficult for everyone’s schedules to correspond, and even more difficult for the heroes to put aside their hero mindsets to relax accordingly. Alcohol helped.

The trio sat in the VIP section of a high-end restaurant, much like the one on their first date. The only difference was this restaurant served freshly caught and prepared seafood, hibachi-style. (Y/n)’s anxiety was no secret, glancing around at the other patrons sitting lengths away with their backs turned to them, paying them no mind. No one even questioned who she was and why she was with the top two heroes when they all arrived. There were no paparazzi in sight, almost like they were barred off from this district, and Izuku and Katsuki were at ease.

It didn’t take a genius to realize that neither of them liked having the cameras on them at all times. Apart from their own suburban home, the small, dark corners of expensive restaurants seemed to be their only retreat into some semblance of normalcy. Katsuki had the decency to smile more often, and something that previously stiffened Izuku rolled off of him in waves, leaving behind a much looser, playful man.

“I can drink, too, right?” (Y/n) was being sarcastic, but she still hesitated when she reached for her sake. Izuku laughed and nodded. Katsuki smiled as he bit into his sushi.

“Yes, dear,” Izuku kid. He and Katsuki already had their share of sake, feeling warm. (Y/n) sipped on the hot liquor, feeling it mix nicely with her food in her belly.

“So, (Y/n),” Izuku started. “How’s work going?”

(Y/n) froze, almost dropping her chopsticks as she reached for the fatty tuna sushi.

“We haven’t heard you talk about it much lately,” Izuku added, focusing on his food. Katsuki eyed her. (Y/n) wanted to know where this serious-Izuku came from. Just a moment ago, they were laughing about how the lewdest photoshoot Izuku’s ever agreed to was a closeup of his middle and ring fingers, fingering a grapefruit. Izuku retorted by saying that the scandal of Katsuki’s suit being ripped around his crotch haunted the Explosion hero for years. Their agency still gets rather… colorfully worded letters regarding the incident.

But now, (Y/n) felt all eyes at the table on her again.

“We know you’ve been missing work,” Katsuki was always grumbling. When he wasn’t grumbling or mumbling, he was shouting much too loud for any conversation he was a part of. (Y/n) had half the nerve to ask him to repeat himself.

“How–?”

“We’d stop by to grab a coffee, and you wouldn’t be there during the times you said you were,” Katsuki explained. (Y/n) quieted down.

Izuku spoke almost fluidly, like they’d already planned out this conversation ahead of time. “We were thinking you should quit your job.”

The table went silent. Katsuki stopped chewing, maybe even stopped moving, all to gauge (Y/n)’s response. Izuku watched her. The other guests of the restaurant carried on with their families, dates, and friends, ignorant of the debacle occurring just a few feet away from them.

Izuku felt the need to explain, his palms dry of any sweat that could have produced. “I mean, you’re living with us now. We’ve got you covered on the bills, tuition, anything else you need.” (Y/n) met his eye. He wasn’t smiling. She really, really wished he was smiling. Izuku trailed off, hinting that he wanted to know how (Y/n) felt about the idea. “I know, it’s sudden…”

“Izuku,” she started, “You always say ‘we,’ but how does Katsuki actually feel about me living here with you both, jobless?” (Y/n) felt resentment rise up into her words.

“It was my idea, actually.”

Katsuki.

(Y/n)’s head snapped in his direction. He wasn’t looking at her, but he met her eye with a sincere glint right when she turned to him. He was telling the truth.

(Y/n) slumped back in her seat, wanting to sink into the plush leather cushions of the booth seat. Her eyes skimmed the generous rations of food on the table, only half dug into, for an answer to their question.

“You don’t have to decide now–,” Izuku attempted to be gracious.

“But we already–,” Katsuki interrupted him.

“Kacchan,” Izuku firmed his tone.

“Don’t you fucking ‘Kacchan’ me,” Katsuki snapped, miraculously managing to keep his voice down, even lowering it an octave. He turned to (Y/n), getting heated. She could tell when he was getting upset by the way his upper lip curled into a small snarl. “We’ve already set up a bank account for your own personal use, and we’ve been wiring money to it every paycheck.” He whipped around back to his partner with a viciousness. “If she doesn’t decide now, I want that fucking money back in my wallet tomorrow. It’s been weeks of this shit.”

This was the first (Y/n) heard about this, and it made her dizzy. They have money where? For whom?

“Why haven’t–?” Before (Y/n) could finish her thought, Katsuki gave her an ultimatum.

“There’s 3 million yen – and counting – in a bank account that we’ll give you access to only if you agree to quit your job. Today.”

(Y/n) gaped at him, bewildered and brazened. What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” Her thoughts couldn’t even form into the words she needed. Izuku was quiet, letting Katsuki say his piece.

“Don’t you ‘What the fuck’ me, either. Do we have an agreement?”

(Y/n)’s mind moved at ninety miles per hour comprehending the past two minutes. She quickly weighed the consequences, still feeling much too blurry. What were they asking of her exactly? Quit her job? How would she support herself? Oh, well, she’d have the 3 million yen in the bank… And she’s living with them now… Usually Katsuki is the one preparing her meals… They’re paying her tuition… Still, though, something felt innately anomalous for her. She’d been providing for herself since she was a teenager, and now suddenly, there’s two men in the picture who want to do all the hard work for her? She didn’t really know how to feel about that. However, at the same time, why was she fighting it? This could lead to an easier life for her. She’d been fighting for so long, and now an opportunity to just focus on her studies – something she’d been desiring forever – has just fallen in her lap.

“Can I think about it?” She had to try.

“You can think about it until it’s time for us to leave the restaurant. Then, I want a decision. Just fuckin’ knowin’ how some of my money’s just sitting in there for you makes me goddamn sick to my stomach.”

(Y/n) swallowed, feeling like she’d just been picked up and thrown every which way by the tornado that was Katsuki. He said it was his idea for her to quit, but now he’s upset about the entire thing? Her back felt tight. It’s been hurting lately whenever her anxiety acted up.

Work at Satou’s for 900 yen an hour or rely on Katsuki and Izuku fully? At least now she can say she’s not cheap; her pride cost 3 million yen. Still, she was hesitant. And stubborn.

“Would there be restrictions on how I use that money?”

Izuku shook his head, looking at Katsuki, who turned away, resting his cheek in his palm. “You’re going to get your own card, and we’re going to be putting money regularly in the account. Like, an allowance,” he explained. Katsuki seemed to withdraw from the conversation entirely.

“’Allowance’ as in I need to earn this money?” (Y/n) hammered him.

Once again, he shook his head. “No. ‘Allowance’ as in Kacchan and I will continue putting aside money from our paychecks and wiring it to your account for you to use.”

(Y/n)’s stare seemed to harden just a pinch. “If I quit, can I still work my last two weeks?”

“Yes,” Izuku affirmed matter-of-factly. Katsuki tapped his finger.

(Y/n) had to think about what she was going to tell Hana.

The room felt heated – maybe it even was, (Y/n) couldn’t tell anymore – and the bodies were so, so warm. Especially Katsuki. (Y/n) told him that he ran hot, and he told her to shut the fuck up before spreading her legs to dip his tongue into her cunt. Izuku slipped underneath Katsuki, wrapping his lips around his hardened cock and sticking his tongue out to lick around the base of his shaft while the head prodded the back of throat. Katsuki gasped into (Y/n)’s pussy, her slick covering his chin. He reveled in the sensation of Izuku sucking him off from underneath, feeling him wrap his hands around his hips, pulling his ass down further, encouraging him to fuck his mouth. Instead, Katsuki pulled his hips back, bringing his tip to Izuku’s lips. He knew that if he fucked his throat, he was going to cum early, and he was trying to hold out. Katsuki’s lips encircled around (Y/n)’s clit, sucking and nibbling, and her hands pulled on his hair. He pulled away to watch as he inserted a finger into her, and then a second one, before flicking his tongue against her clit once more.

She came quickly and in waves, splashing on his chin and down his neck to his chest, squealing like a freshly made porn star.

“Oh my fucking god,” Katsuki was mesmerized at the mess she made as he finger-fucked her through it, encouraging her to squirt more. “More, keep coming, c’mon.”

Izuku’s hands had wandered, and while he continued to suck Katsuki off from underneath him, his fingers were tracing a line up his ass. He spread Katsuki’s cheeks, eliciting a groan from his partner from above.

Katsuki pulled off (Y/n)’s breast with a wet pop. “Deepthroat,” Katsuki instructed before returning to his suckling. Or demanded, depending on the outlook. Regardless, Izuku did as he was told, relaxing his throat and feeling Katsuki begin to lightly thrust his hips. (Y/n) watched Katsuki’s hips move, running her hand through his hair as he popped from one tit to the other. He thrusted lightly into Izuku’s mouth, careful of his partner’s gag reflex, even though (Y/n) was sure Izuku didn’t have one. She watched as Izuku used his free hand to stroke himself, taking note of his technique to pleasure himself – when he twists his wrist near the tip of his cock, how tight of a grip he uses, how he plays with his balls. One of Izuku’s fingers on his other hand circled around Katsuki’s asshole, and she bit her lip. Suddenly, Katsuki pulled away from both of them, flushed and panting.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum if we keep this up,” he was out of breath. “I need a minute.”

Izuku laughed and nodded, still on his back on the bed. (Y/n) was also breathless, but she felt intentional.

“I want to try tonight.”

Both of the men looked at her. “You sure?” Izuku asked. He was looking at her upside down. (Y/n) nodded. Izuku sat up, reaching for her hand and pulling her forward. (Y/n) collided into his chest, but he was smiling. She loved when Izuku smiled.

“We have to figure out how to do this, then.”

Katsuki was back in once he heard this, and he already had an idea in mind.

“Deku on bottom. I’ll be in the back,” he was stroking dick as he spoke. Izuku started to move into position when he felt (Y/n)’s hesitance.

“I-um…,” (Y/n)’s guilt made her tentative, “I don’t think I’m actually ready for… Both of you…”

They all stilled. Katsuki’s hand ceased its motions mid-stroke. “Maybe just one at a time? Or just one today?” She offered, but she had to keep herself from wincing because the suggestion felt like nails on a chalkboard.

(Y/n) couldn’t see, but Izuku and Katsuki looked at each other. They were trying to determine who it was going to be that took her virginity. Katsuki turned to (Y/n).

“Who do you want it to be?”

Izuku watched carefully. (Y/n) held back a groan, feeling the tension. Why couldn’t they just rock-paper-scissors this shit out?

Izuku opts himself out. “I’ll wait my turn,” he smiles, but (Y/n) can tell it doesn’t meet his eyes. “Can I hold you while he fucks you?” (Y/n) nodded quietly.

Izuku shifted on the bed, moving behind (Y/n), cradling her between his legs. He’s still hard; (Y/n) can feel him between her shoulder blades, leaking precum against her neck. His touch was soft, pulling her hair out of her face and placing kisses on her temple and ear. She melded into him. It was his job to make her feel comfortable right now. He liked to watch, anyway.

Katsuki got a good look at her as he spread her legs. He tapped her inner thigh as he stroked himself, the condom wrapper in his mouth.

“S’read your t’ighs mure,” Katsuki said, lowering his tone. (Y/n) did as she was told; she would’ve normally been really embarrassed about doing this if she hadn’t just squirted all over his face a few moments ago. Katsuki ripped the condom open, carefully rolling it onto his hard girth. (Y/n) thought it looked really weird – seeing a penis covered in latex.

Katsuki flicked her clit a couple of times, making her flinch and hiss, but she bit her lip once she saw him grip the base of his cock, lining himself up with her cunt. Izuku praised her as he pushed in. Katsuki let out the most guttural groan she thought she’d ever heard from him.

“Oh my fucking god, how are you this tight?”

“Shhh, you’re doing so good, baby. You remember your safe word, right?”

Katsuki was going as slow as he could, but holy fuck, was he barely making it by. He ground his teeth in order to still his hips from pounding into her. Izuku’s hands busied themselves by either playing with her nipples or stroking her hair, but he couldn’t pull his eyes from Katsuki’s thick, long cock sinking deeper and deeper into (Y/n)’s tight, virgin pussy. He felt the jealousy pull at him, but he pushed it back; he was going to get his turn. Katsuki had to be first at everything, after all. Maybe this was Izuku’s punishment for being the Number One Hero.

He had been so entranced by how well (Y/n) was swallowing up Katsuki, he’d forgotten to check in with her. He glanced down at her face; she was grimacing and breathing like she was giving birth. He kissed her. “You’re okay, you’re doing so, so well. You’re so beautiful, so gorgeous. Look at how well you’re taking him.”

“Ohhhh my god,” (Y/n) moaned.

“Shit, you’re bleeding,” Katsuki’s hips stopped moving. He was halfway in. He’d never been someone’s first before, so he was taken off guard. “Do you want to keep going? We can stop if–?”

(Y/n) thought it was sweet when Katsuki let his worrywart out. She shook her head vehemently, smacking Izuku with her hair.

“No, no, no, it’s just starting to feel goo-mmmm!”

“Fuck her through it, Kacchan,” came Izuku’s order. Katsuki nodded, too captivated by how tightly her cunt was squeezing him to bite back. He repositioned slightly, giving himself a better angle, and rolled his hips slowly. (Y/n) yelped, her eyes rolling back. Katsuki thrusted with precision and practice, and he was going slow for her. Izuku’s eyes flickered from where their sexes met to (Y/n)’s face, both giving him fuel for his own pleasure as he stroked himself.

Katsuki’s breath quickened, and Izuku recognized that it was getting harder and harder for him to control his pace. His hands balled up the sheets beside them; Izuku was surprised his quirk hadn’t activated. Perhaps, he thought too little of Kacchan’s control over himself. That had really only happened about a handful of times. Still, he seemed afraid to touch (Y/n). Izuku has been the one caressing (Y/n)’s body, while Katsuki has been the one doing the fucking.

“If you want him to speed up, you have to tell him, love,” Izuku uttered to (Y/n).

“Faster, Katsuki. Faster, please!”

That was the only permission Katsuki needed.

Katsuki leaned forward, gripping the headboard beside Izuku’s head, rolling his hips with a sudden urgency about them. The sound of skin slapping filled the room, and Izuku was getting close to his own orgasm, too. Katsuki must’ve been close the entire time, but he was drawing it out for (Y/n).

Izuku just brought (Y/n) to her third orgasm by stroking her clit, making her cunt clench even tighter around Katsuki. (Y/n)’s head had been bobbing onto Izuku’s shoulder for some time now, already fucked out even from Katsuki’s previously slow pace.

Izuku reached down, wrapping a hand around (Y/n)’s neck, pulling her head up and holding her by her jaw. He pressed lightly on the sides of her neck, testing the waters.

“Watch him fuck you. Look him in the eye while he fucks you.”

“Izuku–!”

Katsuki looked up from where he was splitting her open and met her eye. His hips slammed into her once, twice, three times.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming, oh my fucking god,” Katuski groaned, filling the condom with his seed. He leaned over his partners, his softening cock pulling out of (Y/n). Izuku leaned up for a kiss, which Katsuki happily indulged. Katsuki moved from between (Y/n)’s legs.

“Your turn,” Katsuki had quickly recuperated, but (Y/n) was a different story. She whined, and both men turned to her.

“I’m… I think I’m done,” she was tired and sore. She wanted to go to bed. If Izuku was hurt, he didn’t show it. Or he thought he didn’t. Katsuki glanced at his boyfriend. Izuku didn’t look at him. He just knelt down and kissed (Y/n) on the forehead.

“Another time, then.”

#tto #the story is finally picking up #deku x bakugou x reader #midoriya x reader x bakugou #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #deku x reader #katsuki x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakudeku x reader

[mymarsmoonandstars]

It's been a week since I saw Wakanda Forever, and ever since, it's consumed my thinking. There are a million things I'd love to discuss about the film, but what keeps me up at night is Shuri and Namor.

Shuri had every right to gut his ass. Namor brought flooding and destruction to her home, killed her mother, all while knowing she was suffering from the death of her brother. Hell, Namor nearly killed her (by impaling her, which how did she survive that idk, anyway). And what was the worst thing that Shuri had done to him? Say no to his alliance to go to war with the surface world? Shuri wasn't the one who killed Namor's two subjects. She actually tried to save them. Yet just like T'Challa, she's forced to deal with the consequences of other people's actions, and when she stands over Namor with a blade to his neck, her internal struggle with this flashes across screen. It's a powerful sequence, but the one that captures me the most is when we hear her mother telling her to show Namor who she is. Not only is it one of many callbacks to the first film, but really, who is she? Who is Shuri? She is struggling with her identity, as grief often does to a person.

When audiences first met Shuri, she was the genius younger sister, the comic relief, who took solace in her lab. But now all this has been taken from her, and taken so suddenly. She's now front and center, now her country's most powerful figure, no longer the jokester, no longer a sister, no longer a daughter, and feels like a failure. The moments where she stands over Namor is us watching her return to herself but also become someone entirely new. She sees the destruction reverse. Sees Namor's hope. Sees their mothers and their nations. She understands that they are similar just as much as they are different. She finally realizes that ending Namor's life cannot reverse the destruction nor her pain, but sparing him is the answer to ending the cycle of it. She recognizes that even though her mother and brother are gone, she is still sister, still daughter. Death in Wakanda is a beginning.

Above all, Shuri understands she cannot think of only herself anymore. She cannot push her people to war because of her own grief and vengefulness. She becomes a leader, in granting mercy. A protector.  And extends this protection by offering it to Namor and his people. This brought a bitter taste in my mouth at first, but it isn't about who's right or wrong, especially when both sides have a little right or a little wrong to them. It's about navigating the actions of their forebearers in the best way they can.

Her multifaceted character is symbolized by her panther suit--it's reminiscent of T'Challa, Kilmonger, and her past self. Now that she's burned her mourning clothes, hopefully in the next movie, we'll see her accept this role with newfound confidence and surity of its purpose. I'm also hoping that Shuri kept Namor's little baby ankle wing that she sliced off and puts it up somewhere to serve as a reminder that she bested him. Can you imagine? I can't wait to see more of her.

Then there's Namor. And dare I say it, he was justified in his feelings of wanting to kill Queen Ramonda. She was cunning and tricked him and had two of his people killed in the process. Remember the scene where he's cradling his subject's face as she dies? And she asks if he can save her and he does not answer because he knows he cannot? And then--was it Namora?--who says, with such blame dripping in her voice, that he was busy meeting with the queen during Nakia's attack. Namor is so angry, and very possibly, so ashamed (and scared?). His ultimate goal is to protect his people, and he failed. He's a god and Ramonda made him look like a fool. To him, she had to go.

Ryan Coogler said that despite Namor being about 500 years old, he wanted him to still feel somewhat childlike. And is he! He's rash. He focuses only on the immediate response without thinking of the ramifications. He seems almost charmingly innocent in his hopefulness that Shuri would want to join him. There's no doubt they wanted us to feel a romantic connection betweeen them, or perhaps just from Namor's end. I don't know who gives clearance on the music, but whoever does, they are always very intentional and unique about it, and a love song plays during That One Mesmerizing Scene. The theories that Namor is infatuated with Shuri just weaken me. She's the first person to ever see Talocan. The bracelet. The mural. Him acknowdging her power. Him waiting for her to beckon him. I. have. folded. No one look at me.

I really hope the MCU explores their relationship. And though I'm sure it would never be a romantic one, that does not make it any less intriguing. Ryan is phenomenal with his villains. Just like Kilmonger challenged T'Challa not just with war, but challenged his core beliefs, Namor did the same with Shuri. The only difference now is that Namor is still alive, and this sets us up for a delicious exploration of a complex relationship between two leaders who have similar wants but conflicting perspectives.

Man. I love them. MCU, please let us see more of them. And if we do, please. Be careful with them.

#and the fact that this is between a black woman and brown man like PLEASE #seeing black women in multilayered relationships is something I did not know I starved for until now #shuri #namor #wakanda forever #shuri x namor #anyway let me talk next about how killing queen ramonda was a thematic mistake! #wakanda forever spoilers #black panther #black panther spoilers #wakanda forever meta

[earthtooz]

earth... i saw that anon abt rin x afterglow but hear me out... reo x sweet nothings........... WE'RE SO NORMAL ABT HIM

x : SWEET NOTHING :*+ﾟ i find myself running home to your sweet nothings.

in which: reo doesn't think he has many loveable traits. you show him otherwise.

warnings: domesticity fluff, 2k words, gn!reader, mentions of insecurity and food, pet names for the reader, there's a little angst but this is comfort, semi-unedited, semi-coherent writing sorry y'all it gets worse LMFAOOOOOOOO yolo.

a/n: this is 2k words of me purely loving reo. reo if you're reading this... hmu baby... WE ARE SO NORMAL ABOUT HIM. HERE. 2K WORDS THAT I WROTE ON A TOTAL WHIM THAT I DROPPED ALL MY DRAFTS AS SOON AS I SAW A REO ASK. this is the fastest ask i've ever whipped out. thanks for requesting :>

reo doesn’t think he has many lovable traits.

sure he’s popular, well-liked, whatever, and as much as he’s aware of how large his social circle is, reo can’t help but wonder if all of it is… just for show. that if the people around him know nothing of genuinity and dance towards him in exquisite gowns made of money, refined manners, and masks carved in ‘円’ symbols with expectations of expensive favours and luxury. 

it sickens reo a little when he thinks about it. on his worse days, he thinks that it’s all he’s worth: money upon money upon money.

is there anything else he has to offer? 

he returns home squeezed dry, mind racing with questions and he finds himself sinking under. everyone is up to something, everyone wants everything from him. he wonders when he’ll be able to take some of it back. 

the smell of steak cuts through his thoughts, filling his nose immediately as the athlete steps foot into his apartment. reo hadn’t registered how hungry he was until now, not having had anything to eat since lunch since he thought he’d have dinner but he left before it could even be served. got too fed up of the company to stick around.

since when did he become so… picky about his company?

walking into his property, he’s greeted with the sight of you dashing around his kitchen, plating multiple things at once whilst a pan sizzled atop the stovetop. it was his favourite; ichibo steak. reo’s stomach rumbles just thinking about it.

(he has an answer to his question: since you came into his life, showing him what it was like to be loved with the same fervour that he loves the rest of the world.)

“oh my-” you abruptly say, frozen when you notice the figure in the hallway, relaxing when you register that it was just your boyfriend who hadn’t the effort to make himself known. “reo, welcome home.”

he walks over to you with a small smile ghosting his lips. “hi love,” he greets, the two of you meeting halfway in a comforting embrace, one that reo melts right into. you press your face into the cold fabric of his suit, chilled by the cold weather outside. the smell of his cologne lingers. “what a pleasant surprise.”

you part, both wearing a lovestruck grin. “i hope it’s okay, you just texted me that you hadn’t had dinner and i thought it’d be nice if we eat together. sorry for dropping in without notice.”

he doesn’t know why you’re apologising. if he came home to this sight everyday he’d be over the moon.

hand cradling your cheek, he presses his nose against yours. “‘s more than okay,” he mutters before closing the gap in a gentle yet breathtaking kiss. his heart stutters back alive, pumping wildly when he feels you, so warmly, so comfortingly, so real, smile against him. 

“how was your high school reunion?” you ask, parting first. reo scrunches his face in distaste. partly at your question, mostly because he thought you pulled away too soon. 

he doesn’t want to think too hard about the bar he was at not too long ago, booked out specifically for said reunion to happen. doesn’t want to hink about the people crowding around him, asking about his career as an athlete and as the ceo of such a successful company. their praise leaves a sour mark in his heart. after two hours of the same questions, he had enough.

“left two hours in. should tell ya enough.”

“aww, sorry to hear that. hope you’ll feel better over dinner.”

“babe, i already feel amazing now that you’re here.”

you giggle at his shameless flattery before patting his shoulder, a subtle way of telling him to ‘knock it off’. “go get changed and relax. i need to cook the steak before it gets past how you like it.”

how he likes it.

reo is reluctant to go, making that known as he frowns whilst his hand squeezes your waist. you push him away with a gentle shove. “go.”

“okay,” he sighs.

after five or so minutes, reo emerges, dressed down into some comfortable pajamas. dinner is prepared now and you’d taken the time to prepare some juice as well- probably the one his dietician recommended for his athlete diet. he doesn’t like drinking it, you know that, and the only time he does is when you force him to (you promise to give him kisses in exchange and the drink is down in three seconds).

he stares at it in disdain. you, knowing him too well, reads his mind and began laughing, recalling all the inside jokes you have around this pesky little beverage. “c’mon, let’s eat,” you prompt and reo doesn’t even have to think twice before complying.

dinner is simple. it’s a really random assortment of dishes, you both have a bowl of udon, a plate of veggies to share, and there’s miso soup on the side. he appreciates the effort you put into getting all the nutrients he needs despite how demanding it can be. 

“thank you for the food.” 

reo digs in without hesitation, humming at the first taste of a warm meal after such a cold and unforgiving night. it warms him from the inside and suddenly, all misfortunes he’d experienced tonight become nothing but forgotten memories that’ll eventually be left to rot in the crevices of his mind, outshone by the sight of your smile and affectionate gaze.

“is it good?” you ask.

it’s amazing. incredible. the best food he’s ever had because of who it was made by. he doesn’t get to express that though so he just nods viciously, glancing over at your laughing form as he slurps his udon very ungraciously.

you don’t judge. you never judge.

“i’m glad, but please slow down.”

“sorry, i’m just really hungry,” reo confesses.

“i can see. you murmur, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. he keens at your touch, putting down his bowl to drag your chair closer, his thigh now pressed against yours. you chuckle a little at his actions, flustered by the small action.

this is love, reo thinks. you’re laughing together under the bright lights of his kitchen and this is the epitome of love.

he’s home. he’s welcomed. he’s safe. he’s him. he’s loved.

dinner goes by uneventfully, save for when you needed to feed the purple-haired the juice in order for him to drink it, causing you to mock his face of disgust and reo kissing you to shut you up. after a while of talking over empty plates of food, your legs have somehow ended up in his lap whilst he mindlessly draws on your thigh. a heart, his name with yours, and quick scribbles of ‘i love you’ over and over again. 

tonight was disruptful. his soul feels deconstructed, but with each passing second in your presence, he feels okay again. you strip him of his tiresome prestige and welcome him into the realm of normality, somewhere he has craved to be all his life. 

you kiss his scars and leave promises on them, loving all the beautiful and ugly parts of him, parts that he had never let anyone see before you.

the yawn that escapes you ends the conversation abruptly and you hum contemplatively, lulling your head back a little to emphasise your sudden wave of fatigue. 

“i should get going now, let’s wash u-”

“going where?” your boyfriend questions, grabbing your hand for the comfort of holding it and as a way of telling you that he doesn’t want you to leave.

“home?”

he tugs on your wrist. “don’t go. you’re not busy tomorrow, are you?”

“i’m not.”

“perfect. you should the night.” you should stay forever, he wants to say. one day he will; reo’ll muster the courage to ask you to move in.

in faux hesitation, you hum, raising a hand to his cheek as reo leans in to your touch. “you’ll miss me otherwise, huh? fine. i will.”

the smile he beams rivals that of a thousand suns. you wonder how you managed to be with someone as loving and adoring as reo who is willing to love you and all of your flaws. even after such a long time together, that look of awe never faded whenever he looked at you.

“i need to take a shower. care to join?” reo asks, smirking at you whilst standing up to his full height. despite the lilt in his tone, it’s devoid of any lust or ulterior motive, extending the invite to you for another chance to be close and intimate like lovers are- something he seemingly can’t get enough of.

you roll your eyes, playing off his suaveness. “you’re awful.”

“only for you.”

“i’m okay,” you reject his offer, trying not to give in to your temptations. 

reo is insatiable though. “c’mon, are you sure? would be such a lovely way to end the day though, can’t you grant me that?”

as selfless as reo may be, he loves taking in return. as a business man, it’d only make sense that he’d make use of return investments. “you’ll live.”

“please?”

“fine.”

the shower doesn’t take long. you two do your night routines beside each other, reo drying your hair for you whilst gently combing through it, brushing your teeth together, and finishing with skincare. he’s close to you the whole time, bumping his hip with yours gently as he litters kisses all over your face, causing you to swat him away sometimes with a bright laugh. 

it’s with a six-foot athlete clinging to your waist that you climb into bed, diving under the covers with little hesitation. reo takes the initiative of shifting himself to lie half-atop you, pressing into you with a relieved sigh as he feels your hands run up and down his back. 

he feels okay again, now healed and rejuvenated once more.

reo’s too soft. he lets people in when he really shouldn’t, gets to know people too quickly, too superficially, that he never sees to far into their person before moving on. he has left trials of faces in his mind with no true attachment to any of them, none that he would make the effort to hangout with. he has been an empty void his whole life, moulding himself into versions that other people want to see.

addendum. he had been an empty void his whole life. 

but now that you’re here, he has a constant to dive in. you scold him for changing too much of himself to become your perfect lover. he didn’t need to swap the roses he orders every week to freshen up his dining room to be that of your favourite colour, he didn’t need to swap the candles, shampoos, conditioners- anything else of the sort, to match your favourite scent. he didn’t need to always wear his hair up because you said you liked it that way.

no, because you love reo for reo, regardless of the ‘influences’ you had on him. you love him because he’s a great conversationalist, he’s organised, driven to a healthy degree, selfless, will always hype you up especially when insecurities become unforgiving, pulling you from the depths of your mind the same way you do with him. 

all you’ve ever wanted from him was sweet nothing. 

reo’ll run to you every time, no matter what. if it’s been a shitty day and he just needs to hide from the world or the best day of his life, he’ll always come to you to make it a little better.

the theory still proves true now as he nestles himself into your embrace, breathing you in with each inhale- letting his senses memorise all of you that he can, that you’ll allow.

“i love you,” is the last thing he murmurs before letting consciousness slip away, surrounded with nothing but bliss and love to pull him away. he’ll dream of you. he’s sure of it.

you and your sweet nothings that highlight every loveable trait of his.

(you'll kiss the 'bad' ones with the same amount of love too.)

#THIS IS TERRIBLE DO NOT PERCEIVE ME #i wrote with my heart and my soul not my mind #my heart and soul are overtaken by reo btw that's how it works #reo mikage x reader #reo x reader #mikage reo x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #reo mikage #mikage reo #reo fluff #reo x reader fluff #blue lock