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#I could not finish it which is unfortunate given it’s definitely some people’s favorite out there and I don’t wanna yuck their yum
pebblezone · 2 years
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About to serve absolutely abysmal cunt
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tedturneriscrazy · 10 months
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I have now completed Sea of Stars, including collecting all the Rainbow Conches and unlocking the true ending. Here are some assorted thoughts about it (spoiler warning for those who haven't finished it):
I like how the game encourages you to use everything at your disposal, which includes skills and healing items. The MP recovery with basic attacks combined with live mana is a good stopgap for when you're tapped out, and allows you to develop a sort of rhythm to combat. Recovery items are also relatively easy to get between the recipes and abundant ingredients, including the best ones in the game.
The Lock system offers a great deal of complexity and strategy to combat, and encourages you to use pretty much all skills and party members to the fullest
The combo system is great and offers a wide variety of techniques and abilities that helps keep the combat fresh and exciting. The fact that it clearly harkens back to Chrono Trigger doesn't hurt, either. (Just an FYI, I will likely be making a lot of comparisons to CT, because a) it's inevitable given it's a direct inspiration and even brought on Yasunori Mitsuda to compose a few tracks, and b) it's my favorite game, so yeah)
That said, I feel like each of the party members could have had two additional base skills to vary the combat a bit more outside of the combo system. Speaking of which, I kinda wish there were 3-way combos, as well. Just imagine what they could have pulled off with those...
On another critical note, there's a curious lack of status effects, which I felt might have added some nice flavor. I feel like this was mostly replaced by the Lock system, and odds are incorporating status effects might break the flow of the game. That said, I wouldn't mind seeing stuff like poison or sleep or whatever. This might just be a personal taste thing, as I'm sure plenty of people are glad that this was omitted.
The folks at Sabotage managed two incredible character feats imo: They managed to create a character who is widely beloved both in- and out-of-universe without going overboard (Garl), and they were able to have a character who is literally a cyborg ninja pirate without it being silly or cringeworthy, and in fact is one of the more serious and narratively dense characters in the game (Seraï)
In fact, I would say most of the characters are quite memorable and likeable, and it's easy to become attached and invested in their arcs. The main exceptions are, unfortunately, Valere and Zale, who I think suffer a bit from generic main character syndrome and being tied to a Chosen One narrative. Also, B'st comes in a tad late into the game for him to have much impact, and his whole trait of having a strong will kinda falls flat when not much time is given to his backstory or development. That said, these are relatively minor gripes on my part, and I definitely don't dislike any of them.
The soundtrack is fantastic, naturally. Standout tracks for me include Encounter Elite (boss battle) and Mountain Trail, though plenty of other tracks are also great.
I was able to recognize the Chrono Trigger-inspired narrative elements (time manipulation, post-apocalyptic future world, going back to a moment in time to swap out a major character to save them from death), and it made me happy to encounter these.
The art direction and character design are immaculate. To put it in as few words as possible, everything is appropriately appealing and appalling as is called for.
Overall, I enjoyed this game immensely, and it kept me occupied for a good long while. I would highly recommend picking it up for your platform of choice. If I were to give it a numerical score, I'd say 9/10.
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laidlays · 1 month
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this weirdo's thoughts on all the FFXIV classes in Dawntrail so far
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having spent a good chunk of time leveling every class a friend had asked me to give my two cents on my favorite to least favorite. rather than ranking them all as a whole i feel it to be more fair if i split them between roles and put my thoughts there. There will be a lot of MMO FFXIV jargon and I apologize but this is definitely for me and people that have played FFXIV extensively. More in the Read More
This will be a ranking of all the kits that each class has in their respective roles and how fun I personally find them since finishing leveling them in Dawntrail. Starting from best to "worst" with the Melee DPS, my personal favorite role:
Dragoon
The "rework" given to Dragoon is more like a streamline of its Life of the Dragon buff that I think benefited this class a lot more. Its burst phase became much smoother after some practice and I feel that double-weaving all my oGCDs in my burst has been a blast. Not to mention that with Dawntrail almost its entire main combo are upgraded and generally look fantastic despite the overall low damage it does compared to the other melee DPS. But that has not stopped me from feeling like I AM the Dragoon in Dawntrail, so along with my personal bias of Dragoon being my first class in FFXIV, it's my favorite and arguably the best of all the kits without changing too much.
2. Monk
From left field, none of use would think Monk would get ANOTHER rework after the loss of Greased Lightning in Endwalker (rest in peace), but much more than that, we lost how busy the class was with buff upkeep in favor of enhanced GCDs for damage. I think for a lot of Monk players, myself included, this felt unneeded as the busyness OF Monk was what made it appealing. And yet, I find myself having a lot of fun with it despite the changes. The basic opener and rotation that people much smarter than me have mathed out made Monk fairly funny to play as our strongest hitting skills are still the combo starters, so any opportunity in Free Stance we have, it goes into using Opo-Opo skills unless you're building Solar Nadi 1 minute into your rotation. Despite that, it still somewhat plays the same as it did in Endwalker with added GCD skills to dump into burst, but it's not unwelcome. Plus being able to gain more than 5 opened chakra during Brotherhood is great QoL. RIP Anatman, we hardly knew ye.
3. Viper
If it was not for the fact that they decided to change its design a month after release, this class would have been #1, and yet here we are. I have a lot to say about these changes, but that would take up more than I'd like, so I will mainly talk about Viper as it is now in patch 7.05. Right now, I still find Viper very fun, but very clearly hollowed out. It's a very simple "click the glowing button" class and use your charges of Dreadwinder as they come up, and that's perfectly fine. At the very least, the satisfaction of the class is still there as Reawaken is very fun to pull off, especially when its two minute burst IS just two Reawakens back to back. I miss that there was upkeep to it, however, and I hope it's reverted.
4. Reaper
Aesthetically, Reaper is arguably the coolest and edgiest of all the melees, it's definitely one of my favorites looks-wise, especially with the new artifact gear. Its kit going into Dawntrail, however, has remained largely the same, which isn't a bad thing. It's just not as interesting, especially by comparison with the new kid on the block: Viper. What put this class lower is, unfortunately, how Death's Design is incorporated, especially after playing 7.0 Viper on release. Compared to Viper, where the debuff is applied naturally as part of your rotation if you know how to upkeep, Reaper's Death's Design feels very clunky and awkward to reapply, especially during burst. It's no wonder that players end up forgetting about it half the time, it's fairly awkward to use. I wish it could be incorporated into Reaper's kit better than just a separate button.
5. Samurai
Samurai is weird. It had some weird changes going into Dawntrail in 7.0 with Tsubami Gaeshi only being allowed a use under Meikyo Shisui but thankfully they changed it back to its former glory in 7.05. But overall, it's Samurai in Endwalker with extra buttons. Kaiten is still missed sorely, but at least Shoha and Shoha 2 are smashed together now instead of what it awkwardly was in Endwalker. However, I still think that of all the melees it's Samurai that kinda puts me to sleep the most. I don't think I've yawned as much playing a class as I did Samurai, but hitting big numbers is nice, it's just not as enticing as it was for me now. Definitely the most bloated melee class button-wise, that's for sure.
6. Ninja
For me, I think Samurai and Ninja are tied for my least favorite classes in Melee DPS not because they're bad, but their rotations are kinda boring. Ninja's filler in between bursts is probably the MOST boring. The new gauge is a little annoying as it goes a bit against muscle memory and Ten Chi Jin forcing me to stay still for its entire duration has nearly killed me more than I'm comfortable with. And even with its burst it doesn't really feel that good. Forked and Fleeting Raiju don't really add much for me and bloats the ninja skill set in a really awkward way. The potencies on its skills are strong, but they certainly don't sound and feel like it and it's probably because of that that it's my least favorite melee DPS.
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baladric · 2 years
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💘💫🤍🪄 🦋 for the ask thing!
ehehe thank u anon!!!!
💘 Is there any posted fic you want to rework/re-edit/re-write?
honestly kind of all of them? i am chronically dissatisfied with my end products—mostly because i look back at them and see nothing so much as pacing issues, and a propensity to attribute too much emotional intelligence to my pov characters. i'm not going to rewrite them, but if i had a perfect world and limitless time, i'd rework both Sweet Hope and a pearl in my hand. they're both so good, but they could be so much better :')
💫 What is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?
i'm very partial to the comments that involve people quoting the bits that personally victimized them >:3c with a very loud shout-out to the wildly sincere and personal ones—i write because reading has helped me through every hard moment in my life, and hearing that i've given that gift to other people means the fucking world to me
🤍 What's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"?
i think generally people pick up what i'm laying down, but one thing that irks me a little is a minor trend of people reading Sweet Hope and walking out with the "Maia Drazhar Is An UwU Cinnamon Roll" thing still lodged in their heads. as a person who's been categorized by many abusers/toxic loved ones as A Faultless Ray Of Sunshine, i can say that it's an awful, awful place to be, and unfortunately i take my job as Disillusioner Of Maia Drazhar's Fawn Image very personally whoops, which was kind of a central motivator for me in writing that story? like that's one of the core themes, right? maia's aunt attributes a faultless and innate Goodness™ to maia, and everyone gets Upsetti about that because they all recognize that maia chooses to be good, though he has every reason in the world to be callous and cruel—and that it's the deliberate choice of compassion and consideration that defines him, and not some like. idk built-in Sweetness Coding. he is not good or sweet—he chooses goodness and sweetness, and that distinction is very, very important to me, and to my interpretation of maia, because it allows for the complexity of human (elvish lmao) error. he doesn't always say the right thing, nor should he be expected to by those closest to him. he doesn't always make the correct choice, nor does anyone. so like. idk!! he's not A Cinnamon Roll!!! that is very reductive to me and rubs me very wrong!!!!!!!!
🪄 What is your post-writing/sharing aftercare? How do you take care of yourself or celebrate yourself when you've finished a fic?
if it's a longer fic, there is a great deal of celebratory shouting and probably some excited dancing, followed by a jittery lap around the house before obsessively refreshing the fic page to watch the hits go up lmaooooo. for ficlets, i tend to say "NICE" very loudly, drop it and go do something else with a warm ember of satisfaction in my heart. usually there is a little drink involved in both of these.
🦋 What are you most insecure about when you post a fic?
oh boy uhh, everything kind of!! i worry a lot about my characterizations, bc i definitely have Opinions and i've come this far without getting my ass cancelled but i do worry about dumb stuff like oh no what if people don't like that i refuse to believe goblin emperor elves are all Literally paper-white and perfectly blonde or shit i shouldn't have leaned so hard into selectively mute link. and i do worry too about the self-indulgent Breakdown parts of my writing, eg the whole scene in Sweet Hope of maia breaking down at the opera or the big in pearl in my hand where link wigs the fuck out on sidon. those always feel too loud to me, somehow, like i've allowed myself and my characters too much license or awareness or Clarity or something? i usually refuse to reread those parts of stories tbh. like i'll do a cursory editing pass and then never ever touch those sections again bc i just get so embarrassed ;alkdfjwa;d
fic writer ask meme!!
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intrepidradish · 2 years
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Media: The Good Place
Year/my age: 2020-22/30-32
What drew me to the media:
I heard it was good! In 2019, Neil Gaiman was talking about how he really enjoyed it in comparison to Good Omens. I'd seen some gifs around. It was lighthearted and the episodes were short. It was a terrific binge show. You could eat a lot of episodes in one quiet night alone at home (pandemic).
Somehow the first season also wasn't spoiled for me! And more seasons were coming out that year! :0 Huge!
What made me a fan:
Towards the end of the show, Shawn, the Bad Place head honcho, pulls Michael, the once Bad Place now Good Place architect, aside and says something akin to 'I enjoyed our dynamic. You made my existence exciting, which I didn't think was possible. I'm going to miss that.' And as I often do while watching shows, I said "wow that's gay" aloud.
I like Shawn too. He's so... corporate, but in a impish horn, giggling kind of way. He's also so dry and his humor is childish, like a four year old discovering the word 'penis' and 'butthole'. He's also very ancient, and he has a tired quality to his character that I always appreciate.
I also like Michael, who is optimistic and anxious and high energy. He's one guy, not a very good one, that learns to love his friends and that motivates him to change a lot. That's beautiful. That's a character I can stand behind.
So at the end of the show, with me feeling the dulling warm glow of the last episode fading, I decided to write some porn.
Have I written fanfiction for it? Why or why not?
Yes! Sticky Fingers was AMAZINGLY well received. It was originally a one shot. I was trying to grab at the show's humor, which is verbose and goofy and a bit icky. Shawn/Michael was also very uncommon, but I didn't mind. I was just doing a one shot! I was in the middle of writing Predators, yaknow, and Exceptional! This was just going to be a quick experimental jaunt.
Well, it wasn't.
Sticky Fingers apparently scratched an itch for folks in the fandom.
Surprising to me, the most popular ship in the Good Place fandom is Michael/Eleanor (I really thought it'd be Chidi/Eleanor, but *shrug* Michael is a hottie and people are still...ahem... maybe a little racist. OR, big or, it could be that the Chidi/Eleanor relationship was explored to exhaustion and not the Michael/Eleanor one. Who knows. I don't. I'm just judging and a hypocrite.)
Anyhoo, what is also popular to do in the Good Place fandom is AU the Good Place with another fandom. Like "ooooh what if these characters from this other fandom were sent into a heaven/hell situation what would they dooooo?" I have no interest in crossovers.
Shawn is also...hmm... kind of treated like an 'ugly' character because he's 'bald' or something. I have no idea. If you look up Marc Evan Jackson you'll see that he has a fucking gorgeous gay mustache and piercing blue eyes. He probably works out given how that suit drapes on him too.
Everyone knows Michael is hot though. Ted Danson is the oldest man I've ever written porn for, because he's a hottie.
(I also want to pull back for a second. It's so strange that I wrote the genre known as 'old man porn' because I don't have the hots for guys above fifty in my day to day. I find them pretty annoying when I have to interact with them. They always have a chip on their shoulder about being right. I think my least favorite demographic in the entire world is 60+ white men. They are impossible to talk to.)
I'm not going to unpack what I said above in brackets, AT ALL. :)
With the hottie definitions cast in my mind, I expanded Sticky Fingers into 5 chapters and I created a second story called Easy Peasy.
Easy Peasy has less appeal than Sticky Fingers, but that's sort of what I wanted. I made Shawn a human. He's grappling with being a bad demon and a sort of lackluster shitty human. I finally finished last year.
Unfortunately, I feel like I let a lot of people down with it's conclusion. The reason is because...unbeknownst to them... there is another story after Easy Peasy! I probably won't write it! I don't have the time or interest!
One of the issues of writing a rare pair is that I felt like I had to normalize what I wanted to write. Since its the only one in it's ship, I couldn't like... go full hog and make it REALLY KINKY. Which for a time, I really wanted to.
Shawn, a demon with a confusing almost Vulcan hangup of being bad feels good, is so fucking kinky. But I just didn't think the fandom was ready for me to write like CBT without cumming, whipping leathermen. A shame really.
Opinion on the fandom:
I think I said my piece above, but I can't find the fandom really. They aren't present on twitter from what I can see. Maybe I should follow the tag on Tumblr? But I'm not very motivated about it. Sometimes I want to write a story, and just not...interact with a community at all. The end.
Would I read it again?
Dunno. Maybe?
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miekasa · 4 years
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six thirty
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+ pairing: armin arlert x (fem) reader
+ genres and warnings: college au, enemies to lovers… kinda… in a very nerdy academic rivalry kind of way, me being a comedian you’re welcome, fluff, smut/nsfw content
+ word count: 5.6k… pls say sike
+ notes: shout out to ryn​​ for listening to me during our very many rambling sessions and also for extorting me into posting this. consider it a late birthday present for my favorite menace </2
+ side notes: no i am not a part of armin nation and i never want to be, nor do i wish speak of this again.
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Armin Arlert is the perfect student. Prompt and well prepared during lecture; smart and insightful during office hours; the apple of any teacher’s eye. Unfortunately for him, so are you.
If you asked Armin, you were a little too clever for your own good, and liked to make it very well known that you believe you’re the smartest person in any room you walk into. That may be true, but it doesn’t mean that he has to sit there and worship your superiority complex. 
If someone asked you, you’d say that Armin was a know it all, and a manipulative little piece of shit. Again, not a completely false statement, but perhaps a slightly biased character analysis.
Neither of you are wrong. It’s why you’re both the bane of each other’s existence.  
There’s a noticeable grimace on your face, chin in your palm, elbows resting atop your desk, as you turn your head to where, sure enough, Armin is seated where he always is: first row, right side, directly in front of the podium, like perfect little teacher’s pet he wants to be. He doesn’t have any books to unpack like everybody else because a shiny, blue iPad is propped up on his desk in place of all of that. He’s robably looking through his pre-written list of showboaty questions to ask during lecture. Like he’s a cut above everyone else.  
Maybe some of the other morons in this course, but not you, that’s for damn sure. You bet that if you broke his thousand dollar tablet he wouldn’t think he’s such hot shit anymore. Maybe that would knock him down a couple of pegs.
“Look at him sitting there with his stupid blue eyes, and his stupid Bieber haircut, and his stupid, shiny blonde hair, and his stupid fucking glasses. I bet they’re not even real and he just wears them to—”
“Did you just call his hair shiny?”
You snap your head to your left, “What—no, of course not. I said shoddy, he’s probably a bottle blonde. Maybe all the chemicals from the hair dye seeps into his head and warps his sense of reality.”
“I’m pretty sure you said shiny.”
“Shut up, Annie.”
She raises an eyebrow at you, “You got something against blondes? Because your track record would beg to differ.”
“Once. We kissed once, and it was truth or dare, and we were both sloshed.”
“You still chose me,” she reminds you, pulling her notebook out of her backpack.
You huff, ignoring her words and turning your head back to Armin, this time finding him twirling his stupid fucking expensive Apple Pencil between his fingers like it’s nothing. You can feel your eye begin to twitch.
Perhaps he can, too—or maybe he can just feel your eyes boring holes into him—because he turns in your direction and ceases his pen twirling the moment you make eye-contact. More students filter in, walking past your line of vision, but each time they move, you and Armin meet gazes again; neither one of you daring to look away, a palpable tension between you.
His eyes might be icy blue, but you can see the rose pink tint underneath his skin, even from the distance; a familiar blush that spreads across his nose and cheeks. You exhale with a silent laugh, breaking your eye contact before he grows completely red, just in time for Dr. Zöe to start the lecture.
Everybody thinks that Armin’s so brilliant, so smart, so untouchable. You know that his only genius is that he’s fooling everyone into thinking that he’s the kind, humble, little nerd boy who wouldn’t harm a fly, when that’s far from the truth.
Armin is mean. He’s competitive and possessive and snarky and sly. He’s the definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but you’re pretty sure the only person in the world who might believe that is Eren. Though, you’ve heard some of the insults Armin throws Eren’s way, and they’re not exactly soft. Granted, that’s a factor in any friendship, and most of his jabs are coated with a layer of intellect the brunette likely doesn’t understand, but that doesn’t make Armin any less sarcastic. It just means Eren’s too dumb to know what’s going on.
Poor kid. Maybe it’s for the best.
That’s all to say that Armin is nothing but a big talker—not even; a smooth-talker, is more like it. He comes across as perfect, all good and sweet and soft, because that’s what he lets people see. Nobody else looks through to the sharp tongue and ragged edges, because they’re too busy cooing over innocent blue-eyed baby in front of them.
But you know that Armin, the one he doesn’t want other people to see: the one that’s so good, he’s bad; so sweet that he’s sick; so nice that it’s cruel. And you know just how much pressure to apply to make his façade crack.
And you intend on doing so.
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“I don’t know which formula to use—hey, are you two eye fucking again? Cut it out, I’m trying not to fail over here,” Eren exclaims, poking Armin’s shoulder with his pen.
The jab averts the blonde’s attention back to his friend, eyes wide as he blinks himself back to reality. He curses under his breath when he feels a familiar warmth creeping across his cheeks. Few things piss Armin off like the way he gets red in the face after thinking about you, or even just looking at you, for too long. Whether it’s red out of pure annoyance, or another feeling he tries to push down, it’s irritating, and above all, embarrassing.
He spares one more glance over his shoulder, to where you and Annie are sat a few tables away in the library. You’ve looked away by now, focusing back on your notes, but Armin swears he can still see that irritating smirk on your face from this angle.
He rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek. He should be able to keep it together around you by now, but he can’t, and it bothers him. You bother him.
“We weren’t eye fucking,” he refutes, turning his back to you completely, “She’s such a little know it all sometimes, s’annoying.”
Eren raises an eyebrow. He knows that you and Armin don’t get along, but he doesn’t understand why. Armin knows almost all your friends, and you definitely know all of his—Eren would even go as far as to say that you and him are pretty close friends—so it’s not a matter of not spending time together. You’re also the two smartest people Eren knows. In theory you should have more than enough to talk about together, but every time you’re in the same room, you hardly acknowledge each other outside of surface level commentary, or glances that border on staring.
Thankfully, the bickering remains in the classroom for the most part. Eren’s seen you and Armin go at, and he’ll be the first to admit that it’s beyond intimidating. Though, a little part of him finds it oddly entertaining, and he can’t help but to be impressed. All the more reason for you two to start playing on the same team. 
Eren thinks the two of you should get to the root of the issue already. Which, if you asked him, has very little to do with your rivaled academic genius, and a lot to do with your lack of it concerning your feelings for each other.
“She’s not that bad,” Eren vouches for you, “I think you two might get along if you ever spoke outside of trying to one-up each other in class.”
“I’m not trying to one-up anybody,” Armin rolls his eyes, a nasty habit he’s picked up as of late, “And if you stopped and used your brain for a moment, then maybe you could solve the problem.”
“I did use my brain!” Eren’s lips fall into an offended pout, “But none of this makes any sense to me! I fucking hate math, you know that.”
Armin sighs, feeling sympathetic for Eren as he slumps into himself defeatedly. He knows that Eren isn’t dumb, but math in any capacity is certainly not his strong suit. He also knows that he shouldn’t give Eren all the answers, but sometimes he needs a little push to get him there. A little bit of added guidance and motivation to keep him going. It’s either that, or he has to trick Eren into doing the work himself, but clearly that method wasn’t working out today.
“You already solved for the activation energy, now you’re supposed to use the Arrhenius equation in the expanded form.”
Eren’s lips fall into a small o-shape, as his eyes scramble across his paper again. “But—how do you—”
“There’s two measurements given for temperature.”
“Oh. Oh, yeah! Okay, right, but then—”
“You have to convert it to Kelvin first or it won’t work. It’s given to you in Celsius.”
Eren furrows his eyebrows together, and then it finally clicks for him. He mutters to himself as he puts his pencil to paper to begin to work through the problem, “How do I convert—”
“Add 273.15 to it. Make sure you put the bigger one first in the equation, or else you’ll get a negative error.”
“You didn’t even do it,” Eren huffs, angrily punching numbers into his calculator, “How do you know it’s right?”
“Because I took this class already,” Armin reminds him, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder, “Isn’t that why I’m tutoring you?”
Eren coughs over his embarrassed blush, “Oh, yeah, right.”
It’s quiet between them as Eren makes a final attempt at solving the equation, carefully and proudly circling his answer when he’s finished. He looks to Armin with bright eyes, and is content when the blonde gives him a reassuring nod, confirming that his answer is correct.
“Well that was a bitch to work through,” Eren sighs, stretching his arms behind his head with a slight yawn, “Chemistry is nothing but glorified math. It’s barely a science.”
Armin shrugs, but he doesn’t disagree. He isn’t the biggest fan of chemistry, unlike somebody else he knows. “Why’d you take chem if you knew it would have so much math?”
It’s Eren’s turn to shrug, slumping back in his chair and running a hand through his hair, “I gotta take all the pre-med requirements… just in case.”
“You wanna go to med school? Since when?”
Eren averts his eyes from his friend, a telltale sign of his bashfulness coming over him. It doesn’t happen often, but Armin knows it’s sincere when it does.
“Dunno. I’m not sure of it, just wanna keep my options open, you know?” Eren replies casually, “Doctors help make a difference and all that, and surgery looks kind of cool. Besides, if my bastard father could do it, how hard could it really be?”  
A gentle smile grows on Armin’s lips, “You can do it. If you really want to, I know you can.”  
Eren’s head snaps up, eyes wide and filled with affirmation and adoration. He relaxes his expression quickly after, but the pink hues are still present, “Thanks, Min.”
From his position he catches eye of another head of familiar blonde hair over Armin’s shoulder, and beside it, your own hair. There’s a flash of a moment when your eyes meet Eren’s, and you offer him a small wave before turning back to Annie to resume doing your homework. Eren barely gets the chance to wave back, but a dopey smile sits on his features at your kind gesture. It fades when he looks back to Armin, once again pondering the animosity between you two.
You and Armin aren’t all that different, you just need to get to know each other better. Actually, Eren thinks that you might make a good couple if you both stopped overthinking it.
“So, what’s the deal with you and (_____)?” Eren asks, bending his right knee to wrap his arm around his leg and rest his chin on top of it, “You act like she kicked your cat.”
“What?” Armin questions, flustered, “What—no, she wouldn’t touch Soup.” 
Eren quirks an eyebrow at that. “I still can’t believe you named your cat Soup.”
“It’s technically a nickname.”
“A nickname for what?”
“…For Miso Soup.”
Eren blinks. “Okay, if she didn’t mess with Soup, then what’s the issue? You scared of her or something?”
“Why would I be scared of her?” Armin asks, tone incredulous; then softer, more subdued, like a kid who doesn’t want to admit they’re wrong, “’M not scared of her.”
“You stare at her like you are—well, you look kind of angry, but also scared. Like, when you see those balloon things outside of car washes. You hate them, but you can’t look away from them—”
“I am not scared of those!”
“You are, and it’s okay,” Eren waves away his friend’s denial, “Oh, I get it—is this one of those things where she makes you nervous, so you respond with anger and sarcasm instead of thinking through your feelings?”
“You’ve been going to therapy for one month, relax.”
“Maybe you two should go to friend therapy and work this out,” Eren bites back, “It probably doesn’t help that she’s always with Annie. They both look like they would murder someone with no remorse. I admit, it is kind of scary… but it’s kind of hot, too.”
Armin spares him an unamused glare. Eren crosses his arms in defense, “What? I’m not wrong. It’s sexy in a scary kind of way, maybe that’s why you’re always eye fucking. I don’t blame you, she’s hot. I would let her and Annie axe-murder me without regret.”
“Eren?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up and do problem six, I don’t have all day.”
Eren huffs, but flips the page to the next problem, grumbling under his breath as he attempts the, “It’s not as sexy when you’re mean, you know.”
Armin hits him silent.
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Tuesdays are Armin’s favorite days because he only has one class. Sure, it’s three hours long, but it’s much more bearable than his usual eight-hour day.
It’s also the one class he shares with you. Which is why he’s always mentally exhausted by the end of it, but physically, he feels like he could punch a wall; all his pent up anger and frustration is channeled into his body and he’s desperate for an outlet for it. It’s a feeling he hates to love.
Annie seems to have cut class today seeing as she’s not next to you; and it’s almost as if it’s emboldened you to mess with him even more than usual.
He bites his tongue as Dr. Zöe enthusiastically uses your latest point as a segue into the final topic of the evening. He made that same point ten minutes ago. You just worded it differently—admittedly, more concisely, but somehow with a little more nuance, than when he had hesitantly proposed it—and, yeah, maybe you made it sound more convincing, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t come up with it first. If his stupid, fancy stylus didn’t cost upwards of $200 he might have snapped it in half.
You’re definitely the better conversationalist, that much he can admit. Words have never been his forte and he hates the way you can talk circles around him, and that there’s so little he can say to make you stop.
He wishes you would just shut up. In fact, he’d like to shut you up himself.
Thankfully, class ends sooner rather than later. Armin finds himself briefly talking with Dr. Zöe afterwards, most other students having taken the opportunity to leave early for the night. To nobody’s surprise, you’re not one of them, having stuck around to talk to the professor, too.
“The two of you should consider lab research this summer,” Dr. Zöe suggests ardently, walking between the two of you as you exit the lecture hall, “I could really use two students like you!”
Armin chuckles at his boisterous professor. He’s known about the research opportunities at their lab for quite some time now, and he knows that you have, too. “I don’t know that lab work is really my strong suit.”
The three of you come to stop at the hallway intersection, the professor now standing across from you and him. You give them a polite smile, “And I’m not sure that collaboration is mine.”
Armin spares a glance just in time to see you flash one of your own in his direction. Dr. Zöe’s eyes flicker between the two students rapidly, a slight squint to their eyelids.
They aren’t quite sure why their two brightest students seem to despise each other. They wish you two would just get along already, so that they don’t have to spend the summer training half-witted chemical engineering majors how to use basic lab equipment; and instead, conduct some actual research.
“Well, I hope the both of you reconsider,” they smile, “I’ll see you during office hours, I presume?”
You two nod in sync, sending the doctor off with happy smile, just long enough until you see that they’ve turned the corner further down the hall
“Had fun stealing my point earlier?” Armin questions, looking your way as you still wave mindlessly, eye-twitching at your polite façade.
“I would call it improvement,” you tell him, not bothering to turn in his direction; still and smiling waving like the professor can see or hear you, “You should stick to showing, rather than saying. You never were good with your words.”
Armin kisses his teeth together. He’ll give you what you want, if that’s how you want it.
In a fit of irritation, he grabs your moving hand by the wrist, and pulls you down the opposite hallway, not caring for your dramatic wailing behind him.
“Hey, Einstein, the exit is the other way, do you have any idea where we’re going?”
“Ever heard of observational learning? Maybe if you shut up for a second, you would figure it out,” he snaps, pulling you further.
There’s a door on the left that Armin knows is unlocked, and he’s quick to open it and pull you inside. Before you have the chance to glance around, he has you pushed up against the wall, jaw forced up and forward.
He could scoff at the small hitch in your breath at his actions, clearly a little too satisfied with being manhandled; but instead, he takes the opportunity to press your lips together. Armin quite likes the feeling of your lips on his; warm and soft and far too welcoming; a rare moment of silence.
“Someone could hear us.”
Or not so silent.
“Then be quiet,” he snarls.
Armin feels your fingers weave themselves into his hair, scraping along his undercut in sync with his lips trailing down your jaw. A groan falls from his when he feels you tug at the ends of the strands, just hard enough to force his face back to eye level with yours.
“You’re the one with the big mouth.”
“You’re so smart, huh. Always got something to say,” Armin lets out a low chuckle, deft fingers running down your sides to squeeze at your waist, “You can be really fuckin’ annoying, you know that.”
You mirror half of his ministrations, letting your right hand trail down his chest barely brushing over the very visible bulge in his jeans, before hooking your index finger under the belt loop, effectively pulling him closer to you.
The smile on your face is dirty, but you’re not laughing like he was, “Do something about it then.”
His blue eyes grow cloudy as he takes a good look at you; slowly rakes over your features, from that stupid, snarky look in your eyes, to your kiss-bruised lips, down to your chest, and back up again. Armin finds himself copying your smirk for all the wrong reasons. But it’s your own fault; you always did like to push him one step over the edge.
“Fine.”
Despite your twisted grin there’s a look in your eyes that’s eager; willing; ready for the taking. That same look you have when you talk over him in class; when you pretend to ignore him around your mutual friends; when you want him to fuck you stupid.
Armin uses his right hand to cup your jaw again, closing the distance between your mouths with a less than gentle kiss. He feels your groans reverberating through his body, waves of heat accompanying them and going straight to his erection. Your arch your back into the kiss, but he forces you backwards, left hand flat against your tummy.
Following suit, he pushes himself against your body, pressing his knee between your legs; the thin fabric of your stockings doing little to prevent your thighs from rubbing against him.
He swipes his tongue over the seam of your lips, earning a frenzied whine when glides his tongue across yours, and teasingly licks at the roof of your mouth. Your tongue is lithe against his, but somehow just as deceptive and sly as always, and Armin would be a fool to deny that he loved it.
There’s a spark flickering in his stomach when you push your center harshly against his; and it’s only ignited further when he feels you bite his bottom lip. A guttural growl escapes him, his right hand moving to your throat with practiced ease, pushing the back of your head into the wall.
He pauses for a moment, drinks in your wide eyes and desperate visage, “You are the single most frustrating person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”
And he couldn’t get enough of it if he tried. He couldn’t get enough of you.
You must see through his words, into the grainy expression of adoration in his eyes, because he can see it filtering into yours, pupils dilating with both want and care.
“Aw, baby, I love you, too,” you pout, leaning forward as best to can to peck him on the lips, “Now, shut me up and fuck me. It’s exhausting being this pretty and smart-mouthed, you know.”
Armin dips his head into your neck, squeezes against the column of your throat with warning until he hears a gasp escape from your lips. He presses gentle kisses into your skin, in stark contrast to the increasing pressure from his fingers, waiting for one last request, and then, finally—“Please.”
He smiles, loosens his grip for a moment, just long enough to hear your pretty panting, before slotting his lips against yours again. Your moans are lewd and sloppy and breathless between kisses, and it makes his dick twitch in his pants. You really are so fucking loud. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
He uses his free hand to push your skirt up, and subsequently dip past the weak barrier of your tights and underwear. The slightest flicker of his fingers against your center has you choking out a moan, and Armin is forced to press his right thumb harder against your neck.
“Quiet,” he reminds you, “You asked nicely, so I’ll give you what you want. No need to be loud about it.”
He watches you nod with short and restricted movements, a sadistic kind of power washing over him at your eager compliance. He uses his middle finger to rub slow, careful circles around your clit; the feeling of your wet cunt against his fingers, coupled with your wanton moaning only spurs on the throbbing in his pants.
“Armin,” you whine, impatiently; but he expected that of you, “Don’t tease.”
His eyes flash to yours briefly, pressing his lips to yours again to swallow your shuddered moans. He dips his tongue into your mouth at the same time he does his middle finger into your cunt. An obscene moan echoing through the classroom, as Armin feels your body arching into his again; feels your fingers frantically flying to his hair, searching for purchase to anchor yourself on.
He pulls away in time to add another digit and watch you groan underneath him. He pushes both his fingers in to the knuckle, carefully curling them upwards to elicit the prettiest sound out of you. He has to admit, it’s probably his favorite thing to hear come out of your mouth.
He keeps a steady pace, pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy with perfect friction, teetering between letting you moan his name and choking you silent. Your hands are frantic in his hair, grasping and pulling and so, so, desperate, Armin can’t help but to finger fuck you harder.
“You want one more?” he questions, but his voice is taunting, words ghosted over your lips just out of reach for you to kiss.
He can feel your leg trembling against his, see you pupils shaking along with your shaking head. Armin stops to smile; he thought you might do that. He could probably make you cry right now if he wanted to. Maybe later.
“Want you to fuck me,” your words short and ragged, eyebrows raised when he uses his thumb to press lightly against your clit, “Armin, please.”
The blonde shakes his head, “You’re dumber than you look if you think I’m gonna fuck you in a classroom, baby, so if you want to cum now, you better tell me.”
You have the audacity to pout of all things, “You’re mean.”
Armin lets out a breathless laugh. “You like it,” he leans forward to peck you sweetly, “So, what’ll it be?”
“Fine, but I want head later, too,” you tell him, words becoming less firm when Armin teases his ring finger against your slit, “Please.”
Armin hums in compliance, leaning forward to kiss you again, this time with more tact, and he chases your whines when he finally pushes a third finger inside of you.
“Look at you,” he croons breaking your kiss and forcing your head back again, “You take it so well.”
“Ah—fuck, there, Armin—there,” you cry, wet heat squeezing around his fingers in intermittent spasms.
Armin watches your chest heave with desperate breaths, air stuttering to pass from your lips to your lungs with his hand around your neck. He can feel your walls constricting around his fingers, feel your body shaking underneath him when he increases his pace. He curls his fingers again, just right, just until he hears you sing a strained call of his name. And when he feels your nails scraping down the nape of his neck, and the slight weight of your body convulsing, Armin knows you’re done for.
He’s nice enough to fuck you through your orgasm, shallow thrusts of his fingers bringing you to and down from your high as he watches you pant for him. He presses small kisses against your throat, up, up, up, until he’s kissing you, and carefully pulling his fingers out.
He removes his hand from your neck, and slides it down your waist to offer you support. He’s not prepared for your sudden pull on his neck, forcing him into a kiss that conveys your content; he’s quick to raise his left hand, palm meeting the wall to hold himself up against your sporadic actions, chuckling lightly into your kiss. You were always so reckless and happy after an orgasm.
You kiss him like you have him wrapped your finger despite being the one pleading moments ago. You do, so he supposes it’s not unwarranted; and he welcomes your flirtatious kisses despite the annoying blush they always bring forth.
And sure enough, he can feel his face on fire when you pull away. Armin scoffs internally at himself; he really should be able to keep it together around you by now. But when you kiss him like that, you kind of make it hard to think straight.
“You’re so good when you’re not… pretending to be good,” you hum, a blissful, hazy look on your features as you wrap your arms around his neck.
Armin shakes his head with a chortle of disbelief; leans forward to kiss you again, “’M not pretending. I am good.”
“Yeah, you’re such a good little saint that arguing with your girlfriend turns you on,” you taunt him, “It’s okay, Armin, you can admit it.”
He groans, out of shallow annoyance this time, and it makes you giggle. “Why are you acting like you’re not complicit in this?”
“Oh, no, no, no,” you refute with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, “You get turned on by hearing me talk about biochemistry. I like it when you tell me to shut up about it. We are not the same.”
“Yeah, because you look hot doing it,” he tells you, “Speaking of which, Eren called you hot today, so I kind of need you to slip a neurotoxin in his Gatorade.”
“Aw, Eren thinks I’m hot? Tell him I think he’s hot, too,” you bat your eyelashes at him, but Armin only offers you an unimpressed glare in return.
“I think he might be onto us, actually,” Armin notes, affectionately bumping his nose against yours.
“If he’s onto us, then it’s because you’re the one giving it away, not me.”
“Oh, because you could never do anything wrong, right?”
“Right,” you flash him an overconfident smile before reaching up to kiss to the tip of his nose, “See you’re so smart, baby.”
Armin shakes his head again in disbelief. You’re a handful, he can see that much.
“Come on,” he prompts, “We should go, I still have to finish my lab write up, and I know you haven’t started your paper.”
Armin tries to motion you forward, but is stopped when he feels your hand combing through his hair, and sees the genuine spark of concern in your eyes. “The one for your elective? I thought you said you were going to finish it on Monday.”
“I was,” Armin admits, “But then I didn’t.”
“You want me to help you with it?” you offer kindly, pushing his bangs back and letting your hands fall down the sides of his face, palms resting against his ears.
He nods gently, turning his head to press a kiss into your left palm, before wrapping his hand around your wrist, “I can help you outline your paper.”
You nod in return, and Armin spares one more kiss, before pulling your hand away to lace your fingers together.
Thankfully, nobody’s around to catch you exiting the classroom, or see you holding hands as you make your way out of the building and towards the bus stop. This was Armin’s favorite part of any Tuesday; the one time he could hold your hand on campus without the fear of getting caught by your friends.
He reasons that you guys should probably tell them soon, though, especially if Eren might have an idea of what’s going on. You were bound to get caught sooner rather than later. That, or Eren and Sasha would start meddling.
“If you think Eren knows, then Mikasa definitely knows,” you note, swinging your intertwined hands as you walk through the parking lot as a shortcut.
“Maybe if you actually remembered to hide Soup’s toys, there would be less evidence for her to piece together.”
“Yeah, well, maybe if you didn’t forget when your midterms are, I wouldn’t have to emergency cat sit the hour before Mikasa comes around, and there wouldn’t be any toys to hide in the first place.”
“I’m bad with dates, you know that!” Armin pouts, “I don’t say anything when you forget about ten page papers until four hours before they’re due.”
“You’re saying something right now, actually.”
“That’s not what I—you know, you’re so—”
Armin’s quiet when he feels your lips pressed against his cheekily, “Annoying. I know. You like it. You’re not very good at staying mad for very long.”
Armin’s tempted to roll his eyes yet again—he really needs to quit it, or at the very least, get your own temper under control before it’s irreversible and completely rubbed off on him—but takes the opportunity to kiss your forehead, instead.
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Your eyes twinkle under his affections. “And that you love me?”
He nods, “And that I love you.”
“And that you’re gonna fuck me before you make me write my paper when we get home, right?”
Armin chuckles and presses another kiss to your forehead, “We’ll see about that one.”
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Hange huffs as they make their way through the parking. They always forget their keys in their office, and always, inconveniently park half-way across the campus. In their defense, this parking lot is free, and the one closest to the Medical Sciences building is not. So, really, capitalism is the one to blame for their frequent late night car lot strolls.
They hear two familiar voices bickering just as they’re about to step into their car, and are more than surprised to see their two favorite students walking together. Walking together and holding hands. Wait—you and Armin are walking together and holding hands?
Hange blinks for a moment, drowning out the sounds of the conversation after they see you two kiss. Their jaw practically falls to the asphalt and they might not blink for a full two minutes as they process what they just saw.
Their trance is broken when it finally, finally clicks together, and Hange has to try their hardest to contain their squeals before sitting in the driver’s seat, an overly forceful slam to the car door following. They waste no time fumbling with the pockets of their lab coat to fish out their phone, and make a call to their favorite math professor.
“Levi, I told you Arlert and (_____) had to know each other outside of class! I think they might be dating! You know what this means, right? I can have them both in the same lab without worrying they might start a chemical fire, and I won’t have to hire two brick heads this summer!”
Levi has never hung up a call more quickly in his life.
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reindeergamesz · 3 years
Text
Starlight
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Summary: You’re a duchess who’s at yet another event where you’d rather be anywhere else. Thankfully the wine is free, and after a slip up with the Prince of Asgard, you indulge a little. But now you’ve caught the Prince’s eye, and you may have had a few too many..
Warning: mentions of sex
Paring: Loki x Fem Reader
This story was inspired by Taylor Swift’s “Starlight”! I adore the song and the story it tells, and I had lots of fun using it to make my own! Definitely several references, so keep an eye out. This story could also definitely have a part 2 with actual smut if that is something you would like to see?! Happy reading and all feedback is greatly appreciated!
Side note: I had an idea to do an entire series of one shots inspired by Taylor Swift songs, but not sure if that’s something anyone would be interested in. Would love to hear some takes on that (:
As always, all stories are posted on wattpad where I have several other one shots!
You sprayed your favorite perfume on your collarbones, and fastened the back of your silver necklace, taking a last look at yourself in the mirror while adding the finishing touches to your ensemble. You truly did not care for these events, but appearances called for it and the free wine was a bonus.
Being a duchess meant your were forced to attend high society events with the other nobles, and the balls that took place at the palace in Asgard was as high society as it possibly gets. Thankfully, being a duchess and not a princess didn’t draw as much attention but still required you to attend these pristine and polished evenings.
You flattened out a few wrinkles in your dress and exited your room, making your way down the golden halls and into the grand ballroom. The room was already packed with people, the whole place dressed to the nine and buzzing with chatter. A few couples have already grazed the dance floor while others huddled around exchanging pleasantries.
You went straight for the drinks, grabbing a glass of red wine. The wine in Asgard was one of your favorite things about the realm, no other wine seemed to ever compare and you always seemed to go a little overboard when given the chance.
You finished your glass quickly and started greeting people. Trying to get the hard part out of the way so you could spend the rest of your evening tucked in a corner and getting drunk. You knew most of the crowd which made things easier, you were able to make your rounds fairly quickly and sped back for the refreshments.
Unfortunately, you didn’t quite make it to your destination before a tall and lithe figure appeared right in front of you and you bumped right into them. You stumbled backwards but a hand flew out and caught you before you landed promptly on your back and pulled you back up.
You steadied yourself and looked up at the person who had caused and saved your fall, you were met with green eyes and a smirk coming from none other than Prince Loki of Asgard himself. You immediately cleared your throat and bowed to him “Apologies my Prince, I should have been paying better attention to my surroundings” you knew your face was heated from embarrassment.
Loki just studied you for a moment, eyes roaming over your form before a smile formed on his face and he bowed back to you. “It is no issue, that was entirely my fault. What is your name, I’ve not seen you here before” he asked. You had heard rumors of the Prince of course, of mischief and chaos, all in the form of a single man. You blinked, realizing you had got lost in your thoughts and hadn’t answered him yet.
You told him your name and title and he grinned widely. “Ah, a Duchess. A pleasure to meet you darling, a shame this is our first time making acquaintances” he took your hand and kissed your knuckles, cold lips meeting warm skin, raven hair falling from his head softly grazing your hand and you blushed. A blush that caught you off guard, because this was just a formality.
You curtsied once more to him “The pleasure is all mine, if you will excuse me.” your original goal back in your mind, wine, and lots of it after that incident. Loki gave you a small nod before stepping aside and allowing you to pass.
Several drinks later and the incident was no longer in your mind, you stood in the back of the crowd against a wall as you sipped your current drink. You shut your eyes and leaned your head back, the embarrassment that had clouded your mind gone and you forgot how much easier asgardian wine got you buzzed.
After reeling yourself back down, your heard someone clear their throat in front of you and your eyes instantly shot open to face the disturbance. Yet again, Prince Loki stood before you with a smirk on his face. His posture was much more lax, hair falling a little more in his face and his grin was a little sloppy, he was drunk as well and maybe it was the liquor talking but he was devilishly handsome.
You gave a small smile back to him. “We meet again, my Prince.” taking another sip of your wine. “Indeed. I couldn’t help but notice you all alone over here and a lady of your beauty should not be by herself at an event as such. I was hoping you would accompany with a dance?” he outstretched a hand to you, you blinked between his face and his hand.
Of course you had danced with many men before, but never a Prince of Asgard, and definitely not the God of Mischief who was eyeing you up and down like you were a prize to be won. Before you brain could even make a decision, your body did for you. Taking his hand and allowing him to lead you to the dance floor.
Were you more sober you would crawl into your skin at the looks you were sure you were receiving at the moment, but some how Loki had captured your gaze and you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off him. He lead you to the middle of the dance floor, and snaked an arm behind your waist, resting his hand on lower back and his free hand in yours.
He pulled you close to his chest, your free hand wrapping around his neck as you began to sway and move with him as the music blared around you. The softest and loveliest sounds flooded the room, “What a marvelous tune.” you said. “Indeed, I’ve grew up with these same songs my entire life, but I seem to never tire of this one.” he admits. You smile up at him, gaze catching his lips momentarily before flickering back to his eyes.
The song picked up and so did Loki, you followed his lead as he drug you around the dance floor, spinning you at just the right moment, dipping you when you didn’t expect it and stirring laughter from you both. It was as if you moved in perfect sync with one another, you twirled around the floor and the only thought on your mind was the handsome Prince in front of you.
His grip on your waist, his hand placed in yours, his green eyes piercing into you, his chest pressed against yours and his mouth oh so close to yours as he pulls you into him as the song winds down. In your intoxicated state and the high you were riding from the dance you wanted to press your lips to his, but before your body could betray you the song ended and he loosened his grip on you and stepped back to bow.
Coming back into reality you quickly curtsied back and finally caught sight of your surroundings, and every eye in the room was on you. Despite the buzz you still had it was not enough to calm your nerves and your face heated up and Loki must have taken notice as he began to lead you off the dance floor, “Would you like to get some fresh air?” he asked and you nodded.
He hooked your arm in his and lead you outside through a door you were sure only would be noticed by those who reside in the palace everyday, and for that not a single soul was accompanying you. You let out a sigh as the cool air hit your face “For a lady of your position, you would think one would thrive in the attention.” he said as you walked.
You laughed and shook your head at yourself and the irony that is your life. “One would assume, but I have never been one for crowds. Truthfully, I only come to these events to keep up appearances, and getting drunk is a plus.” you admit. He laughed this time, throwing his head back slightly. You smile, because he looks so gorgeous when he laughs and the sound itself was also not so bad.
Loki led you to a small pond just outside the palace near the gardens, it was secluded and seemed more like a personal garden. There was a bench facing the water and you sat down, you kicked off your shoes and pulled your feet up under you. You knew this was definitely not appropriate ethics around a Prince, but you were drunk, overwhelmed from all the attention, and still a little high on the dance so you didn’t care and Loki didn’t seem to mind either.
He leaned back into the bench, crossing his arms behind his head and staring up at the dark sky. The stars in Asgard were surely a sight to see, but in this moment you couldn’t seem to peel your eyes off the dark haired Prince beside you. “What’s your biggest dream?” he asked, breaking the silence. You raised an eyebrow at him, his question caught you off guard.
“I don’t know, I don’t think I have one.” you told him, your answer seemed more depressing than you intended once you actually said it out loud. He looked over you, eyebrows furrowed as if your answer truly confused him. “You don’t have a single thing in this universe you dream of?” he asked. You pondered over his statement for a moment before dropping his gaze and looking down to your lap.
“I suppose I’ve never really thought of it that hard, my whole life was mapped out from the moment I was born, as I’m sure you know all too well. I stopped having dreams for myself a long time ago.” you admitted, picking at the hem of your dress, you weren’t really sure what provoked you to be so honest with the Prince. “What’s yours?” you asked, trying to lighten the mood.
He grinned, “To be King.” he answered, you smiled back at him. “Well, you never know, Prince Thor could fall from a cliff never to be seen again and then poof, all hail King Loki.” you joked, stirring a laugh from him again this one more powerful than before and it made you smile wide. “Hey, it’s not impossible.” You shrugged.
“It’s quite all right to dream impossible things you know.” he said it in a joking matter, but you caught the sense of bitterness that lie within the statement. You didn’t really know the Prince’s, but it was no secret that Loki envied his brother. Your smile dropped a bit at the thought, but Loki took your hand in his once more and scooted closer to you.
“I can’t believe I’ve never noticed you before tonight, surely this is your first time at the palace. Someone as beautiful as you would have surely caught my attention.” Loki says smugly, his thumb tracing circles on your hand. You couldn’t hide the grin his compliment gave you.
“I’m sure you were busy with other Princely duties, and I normally keep to the back of the crowds. I’m not keen on big dramatic parties, and it only took me face planting into you for you to notice me anyways.” you chuckled and Loki laughed along side you. “And for that, I’ll forever be thankful.” he added, pulling your hand into his lap now.
You look up at him, he looks absolutely radiate in this moment. You were definitely sobering up now, so you couldn’t blame your thoughts on the liquor anymore. His free hand moves to your face and tucks a strand of lose hair behind your ear that fell free. He leans closer and you suck in a breath, his hand now rested on your cheek.
You lean in too, and his lips land on yours. It’s slow at first, his mouth is cool but his lips are hot. He kisses you longingly, sensually, and sweetly, until you part your mouth slightly and then his tongue slips in. Then it’s rough, greedy, hungry and before you know you’re straddling him as he pulls you closer.
Eventually you have to stop to catch your breath and you’re both panting. Loki smirks at you as you come down from the high “What happened to that bashful women who scurried away from me earlier to the back of the room?” he ask playfully. You narrowed your eyes at him and smirked back “I said I didn’t like large crowds, not secluded gardens.” you shot back.
He grinned wickedly then. “As ravishing as you look under the starlight darling, I’d prefer to see you under my sheets. Come back to my chambers with me?” he asked, leaning in to kiss your neck. His forwardness makes your stomach flip as a smile tugs on the corner of your lips. “Lead the way.” you say.
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idy-ll-ique · 3 years
Text
Just Peachy.
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x F!Reader
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: mentions of injuries and blood, overall very fluffy and cute
Requested: nope
Summary: in which Y/N gets hurt and Ransom is the perfect fiancé.
Author's Note: hiya peeps! ok im gonna say it,,, im a hoe for soft!ransom idc idc. enjoy!
---
"If anything happens while I'm at work, if you get hurt, don't hesitate to call me, alright? I'll be home in 15 minutes. Just call." Wise words by Ransom Drysdale, her fiancé.
Was she going to do that? Nope! Y/N grumbled from her position on the ground; she was walking down the stairs when she had tripped and fallen, ending up in a heap on the floor with one ankle definitely broken and a cut on her temple. Slowly, as the pain got too much to bear, she started crawling to the best of her abilities towards the bathroom to get the first aid kit.
As she neared the bathroom her hopes went up, until she saw the cupboard above the sink on top of which the first aid kit was kept. "Who fucking keeps it so high up?" she cursed under her breath as she grabbed the sink, slowly standing up, praying the sink wouldn't break under her as she applied her full body weight on the poor thing. She was successful.
Now putting her entire weight on her good foot, she reached up and, severely underestimating the weight of the kit, yanked it up, causing the heavy box to come crashing down on her. "Damn it, fucking son of a—" she cursed loudly as the box knocked her off her already weak feet. She fell on her back with a grunt and the heavy box landed on her chest, forcing her to exhale a breath. "Fuck."
Y/N forgot to hear a painful crunch.
She started lifting her hands to push the kit away when a sharp pain shot through her left wrist, causing her to wince. "Oh, great, another broken limb? Just what I needed. Great. Fucking peachy," she muttered and shoved the box away with her right hand, moving to sit up. She tried to crawl out of the bathroom but this time, with only one hand to support her, the task was perilous.
Ransom tapped his fingers on his desk at work in the tune of his favorite song, frowning at the blank open document in front of him. He was working on his second book, but today, inspiration was nowhere to be found. No ideas were coming to his head on how to proceed with the next chapter. I wonder what Y/N is doing, he thought and smiled softly at the thought of his fiancée.
Ransom and Y/N met at a party thrown by a mutual friend. He was being his usual, bitter self in the gardens outside the lavish mansion (yes, a mansion) when Y/N had approached him first. "Hi there, I'm Y/N. I noticed you were being too quiet and you slipped out, and wondered if you wanted to talk to someone?"
He wanted to push her away for talking to him like that, especially since he left the house for a reason, but instead he just smiled at her. A genuine smile. "I'd like that a lot." And so, they talked. Ransom was proud to announce that he had first fallen for her nature, her personality and her demeanor instead of her looks, which was what made their relationship special.
At least for Ransom, given the type of man he used to be.
Y/N was extremely gorgeous in his eyes. That was simply an added bonus. By the end of the party, both of them had walked into the house again and Ransom had put on quite a show about asking her out to dinner, which she readily agreed to. She knew what kind of a man he was; spoiled, full of himself and had a big attitude problem but that one talk with him changed her perception of Ransom Drysdale.
He was truly nice to the people he cared about, one of them being her. They talked for a short while and he was nothing short of polite, sweet and funny at times. He flirted endlessly since that was part of his personality but she didn't mind, she liked it, even. Ever since that day, they were inseparable and now, 4 years later, engaged.
"Fuck shit, fuck shit, fuck shit…" Y/N chanted as she slowly crawled to the living room, the pain in her body increasing by the minute. Finally putting her pride aside, she grabbed her phone off the couch and called Ransom, falling to the floor with deep breaths. Ransom's eyes snapped away from his laptop and landed on his phone when it started ringing.
Grinning, he picked up the call when Y/N's smiling face came into view. The moment she spoke, though, his grin dropped. "Hugh…" Y/N choked out, eyes filling with tears when the pain finally caught up to her. "Y/N? Bubba, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, immediately leaping to his feet. He shut the laptop, grabbed his coat and stormed out of his office, towards his car. Work be damned.
"It's— it's nothing. I'm sorry for calling, I know you're busy—" He nearly scoffed. "Babe, listen to me. You're more important. I'm coming home, I just left the office. Speak to me, bub, tell me," he insisted as he drove like a madman towards his house. "Just got hurt a little bit," Y/N mumbled and Ransom's heart broke. "Darling, I'll take care of it when I get home."
Thankfully, 15 minutes later, he reached home. Ransom hurriedly parked his car and threw open the front door, freezing when he saw his fiancée lying near the couch on the floor, the phone still in her hand as her eyes snapped away from the ceiling towards him. "Ransom," she stuttered and he walked towards her, kneeling next to her. His thumb swiped the blood on her temple.
God, did he want to punch her on her stupid, beautiful face for telling him she was just a little hurt. "Bub, what's this?" He picked her up and placed her on the couch, moving to take her hand but it fell limp… in a weird angle. His eyes widened. "Is your wrist broken?" he whispered and Y/N nodded, turning away from him. "And you had the fucking audacity to tell me it was nothing?!" he screamed.
She kept silent as he checked the rest of her body, finding out that her ankle was broken as well, the skin around it swollen black and blue. "You're a fucking dumbass, you know that?" he muttered as he called a doctor, sitting on the floor next to the couch. "I didn't want to disturb you." She was wheezing and he turned to her, only to see her clutching at her chest with a pained expression on her face.
"Baby?"
"Hurts." He sat up and ripped the t-shirt off her, eyes darkening when they landed on the bruise forming on her chest and between the valley of her breasts. "What the fuck happened when I was gone?" he hissed as he covered her up again. "I… I fell down the stairs first and broke my ankle," she began, fidgeting. "Well you should've called me then!" he insisted, exasperated.
"I didn't want to be a burden," she admitted in a small voice and Ransom's resolve broke. He teared up a bit and pressed his lips to hers, shaking his head. "You're not a burden, Y/N. I told you, if you're hurt at home, call me. I meant it. Even if it's a paper cut, call. Even if it's a skinned knee, call. I'm always here for you, and I always will be here." Y/N sniffled under him.
"Ransom…" He gently sat her up and sat next to her, only to pull her on his lap as he held her close. "Don't you dare think you're a burden ever again. I signed up for this. A burden is something you're not willing to carry. This? I'm willing to carry this to the end of the world," he whispered, squeezing her body as tightly as he could without crushing her. "I love you, Ran."
I love you, too.
"I know, sweetcheeks." And he grinned when her head shot up and she promptly slapped him on the cheek. "You're so full of yourself, Drysdale," she huffed. "You still love me," he hummed as she snuggled into his arms. "Fortunately for you, unfortunately for me, yeah, yes I do," she sighed.
Soon, the doctor arrived, patched her up and said the worst thing she had ever heard in her life.
"Bedrest for 2 weeks till the ankle heals."
And seeing Ransom's shit-eating grin had caused her to glare so viciously at him that even he had cowered. "Babe, doctor's orders, can't help it." After the doctor left, they were now laying side by side on their bed, staring at each other. "I can't just sit here with nothing to do!" she whined, snuggling closer to him. He put an arm around her, sighing.
"Well, face the reality, kitten. You're staying here and that's an order."
"Funny you think you can boss me around, sweetheart."
"I know I can't but this time, I will. I'll strap you down to the bed, mark my words," Ransom said with a roll of his eyes. "Kinky," Y/N snickered and Ransom kissed her nose with a smirk. "You are not getting up, Mrs Drysdale," he whispered and she pouted, jutting her lower lip out as far as she could along with giving him puppy eyes. "Please, Ran?" Ransom laughed.
"No." She groaned loudly. "Ugh, fine! I'll just get up when you go to work," she spoke smugly and Ransom turned to her, eyes wide. "Oh no you don't." He leaped up from the bed, making her whine. "Where are you going?! I need cuddles, Ran, I'm hurt!" she insisted and he got back into bed, taking out his phone. "I'm making calls to work. I'm gonna work from home now."
"You don't have to do that!" she insisted vehemently but Ransom refused to hear it. "I have to! To make sure your cute, dumb little ass stays in bed like the doctor said," he huffed. After one phone call, he sighed in relief and relaxed against the bed. "Pays to be a Thrombey, ya know," he chuckled, ruffling Y/N's hair as she snuggled into his side.
She was a mess. Her left hand was in cast, and so was her right ankle. After the doctor left she had taken off her t-shirt, leaving her in her sports bra, the wound on her chest a deep purple with flecks of red. There was also a bandaid on her temple for the small cut. "I figured." It was quiet for some time. "You never finished the story, babe. How did you get so hurt?"
"Well, first the stairs incident, I told you. After that, I was going to the bathroom to get the first aid kit but it was too heavy. I didn't know that so when I lifted it, it fell on me. I broke my wrist from hitting it on the floor too hard and the first aid kit fell on my chest," she huffed, "The pain was too much so I called you." Ransom frowned. "You should've called earlier."
"I know. Sorry."
"It's okay, baby, I'm here now," Ransom smiled, giving her a loving kiss on the top of her head. "I'm getting tired," she yawned as the adrenaline started wearing off. "Sleep." Ransom adjusted himself so he was now half-lying on the bed, back resting against the headrest as he gathered Y/N in his arms. She fell asleep a few minutes later.
---
"Ran…"
Y/N touched his side of the bed, only to be met with cold sheets instead of his warm body. She blinked the sleep away and sat up, rubbing her eyes and letting out a yawn. Running a hand through her messy hair, she stood up and limped towards the stairs. 2 weeks had passed and as the doctor said, her bedrest was over.
Her ankle had healed but not fully, while the wrist was still in a cast. The wound on her chest was also feeling loads better. She walked down the stairs and entered the kitchen area only to see Ransom cooking breakfast. "Ran," she whined and he turned around. "Y/N! Get your ass in bed, why are you here?"
"It got lonely." She wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing a soft kiss to his bare back. "Alright, fine." He spun around and grabbed her waist, lifting her and placing her on the kitchen counter. "Sit here." Y/N smiled lazily as she placed her head on his shoulder, watching him cook. He was making eggs. Omelettes.
"How did you sleep?" he questioned when the silence stretched on. "I slept well. The ankle doesn't hurt as much, nor the wound on my chest. But the wrist…" She sighed and Ransom looked at her with a sad smile, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "It'll get better, I promise. I'm not going to stop taking care of you."
"I'd like that very much," she replied shyly and he grinned. It was true, Ransom had truly taken care of her well. Breakfast, lunch and dinner in bed everyday for 2 weeks, he worked in their room and they had cuddled more in the two weeks than they had in their entire relationship. Y/N was super happy with their arrangement.
Of course, sometimes Ransom would be too busy, leaving her alone in the room while he worked downstairs or had a meeting with someone. But then he'd make it up to her by offering more snuggles and kisses. "My best girl," he murmured, placing the omelette he was making on a plate. He then carried the plate to the dining room, leaving her on the kitchen counter.
He returned just as fast, gathering her in his arms and pressing a kiss to her temple as he carried her to the dining table as well. "You're strong," she teased and he huffed. "I better be, or all that working out will be for nothing." She laughed and he placed her down on a chair. "Eat well, I'll be back." With another kiss dropped to her head, he went back to the kitchen area.
Y/N wondered how she became so lucky to have him as her fiancé. Yeah, sure, Ransom wasn't a very nice person in general but to her, he was the best. The man who once called his aunt unsavory things punched someone in the face when they had the audacity to call her the same things. "You better watch your fucking mouth or I'm gonna break all your teeth."
It hadn't affected her much anyway but seeing Ransom's reaction had sent a pleasant tingle down her spine. He was ready to do anything for her. And she had to admit, lately, he was being very soft. She had noticed the changes in him around a year ago; he'd become… domestic, almost. It was fun to see him like that.
His family, well, they were less than pleased when Ransom had first introduced her to them. They thought she wasn't good enough for him and had even tried to break them down. But that had only made them stronger. Ransom was in love with her and nothing his family said was going to change that. "Y/N?"
She snapped out of her thoughts and blinked at Ransom. "Yeah?" He laughed and sat in front of her with his own plate of food. "You were lost in thoughts; the food's getting cold, honey." She cursed softly and laughed along, finally finishing her food.
How had she gotten so lucky?
---
A/N: Thanks for reading! Show some love, likes and reblogs will be appreciated <3
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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years
Note
CQL-Verse: Wen Ning did a whole lot of risky stuff saving JC and the bodies at Lotus Pier. What if NMJ hears and gets talked into helping protect him and the Wen remnants by the Jiang bros, because even if he's a wen, he still 1. whole ass poisoned wen chao 2. straight up commited treason and was punished for it to protect sect heirs and 3. is extremely baby brotherable. you can fit so much h/c into this bad boy
ao3
Untamed
1
Wen Qing was angry about the trials, but Wen Ning thought they made a reasonable amount of sense.
After all, how was the rest of the cultivation world supposed to know what they did in the war without a proper trial? It was only reasonable for them to make certain assumptions about them based on their surname, the same way everyone assumed that those surnamed Jin were rich, those surnamed Lan were beautiful, those surnamed Jiang were bold to the point of arrogance…
The Nie were supposedly known for their tempers, but Wen Ning hadn’t seen much evidence of that so far.
In fairness, his only experiences with a Nie were, firstly, with Nie Huaisang at the Cloud Recesses, which he was fairly sure didn’t count, and now, during the trial, with Nie Mingjue.
Nie Mingjue laughed the entire trial.
“You poisoned the wine,” he sniggered. “At their own celebratory feast…! And then you just went straight to Yiling, where your sister was in charge. And it still took him how long to find you?”
“Weeks,” Wen Ning meekly admitted.  
“Can we go back to the bit where you saved Wei-xiong from the giant dog beast using stolen needles?” Nie Huaisang asked.
“No, we cannot,” Nie Mingjue’s deputy – a somewhat long-suffering looking man that they all called Meng Yao – said. “He’s already gone over it four times, Huaisang.”
“But –”
“No.”
“Spoilsport! Look at how much fun da-ge’s having; it’s not fair.”
“He’s the sect leader. If he wants to hoot like a shrieking monkey, he’s entitled to it.”
“I’m not hooting,” Nie Mingjue protested. “I am recognizing talent.”
“Talent.”
“Exactly. Talent.”
“At…what, exactly?”
“Causing trouble,” Nie Huaisang volunteered. “I recognize it from Wei-xiong, I could spot it anywhere.”
“Could we possibly proceed with the trial?” Meng Yao asked, obviously deciding not to continue with that discussion. “We have six more to finish today. Can I assume that given the evidence of Wen-gongzi’s subversive activities and his subsequent imprisonment throughout much of the Sunshot Campaign, he is absolved of all crimes and allowed to go free?”
“You spoilsport,” Nie Mingjue said, rolling his eyes at him. “Yes, I think so. Wen Qionglin, you are free to go your own way – though if you wish to stay here in Qinghe as a guest cultivator, we would be glad to have you for however long you wish.”
Wen Ning thought that sounded all right.
2
The Nie sect were known for their tempers, and justly so, but Wen Ning quickly figured out that he didn’t need to be afraid of Nie Mingjue’s occasional outbursts (quickly roused, quickly doused) or Nie Huaisang’s temper tantrums (petty) and occasional grudge-holding (rarer but much more dangerous).
No, Wen Ning figured out very quickly in his first weeks that the one to be afraid of was clearly Meng Yao.
Wen Ning had been weak and sickly his whole life in a sect that valued strength above all; he had survived hiding behind his sister, but she couldn’t always be there for him, no matter how she tried. He’d soon learned that surviving on his own meant being quiet and obedient, never making trouble or drawing attention to himself, and it also meant being extremely attuned to the minute expressions that might signal the difference between Wen Chao being angry enough to throwing a teacup at his head and being angry enough to order him to be taken outside and beaten until unconscious.
The same skills helped him in the Nie sect, where people were very often angry. Wen Ning could tell the difference between Nie Mingjue raging to let out steam (moderately common and generally innocuous, easily ignored) and being actually upset (typically only dangerous to the furniture, which was a nice change, but more worrisome in the sense that he might go and do something stupid afterwards), and he could tell that Nie Huaisang’s true anger, so rarely triggered, tended more towards the cold and hidden (definitely a sign he was going to do something, but unfortunately for everyone involved it’d invariably be far more malicious - enough to make you long for stupid).
He could tell that Meng Yao was, despite all his smiles, very often angry.
Like Nie Mingjue, Meng Yao’s temper was easily roused to the point of fury; like Nie Huaisang, his anger lasted a long time and usually called for some malicious action before it could be properly assuaged.
“Senior Meng,” Wen Ning tentatively said one day when his curiosity got to be too much for him. “Could I ask a rude question?”
Meng Yao’s temper, hidden deep in his eyes, flared at once, preemptively, and Wen Ning shivered and looked down at the ground. He had known what he was risking, but he hoped that asking permission in advance might allow him to get the question out with minimal reprisals – cold meals for a few days, perhaps, or being assigned to the training yard only when the most sadistic training-master was supervising, but only for a week or so.
“Of course, Wen-gongzi,” Meng Yao said, and he sounded nice and pleasant and like no question could possibly be rude enough to cause him any disturbance. It was a little frightening how good he was at that. “I can’t imagine what you would want to know that would be rude.”
“Are you related?” Wen Ning blurted out. “To Sect Leader Nie, I mean – his family –”
Meng Yao stared at him. His mouth was slightly hanging open.
“…it’s a stupid question,” Wen Ning concluded, feeling ashamed. Of course Meng Yao had been promoted entirely on merit; it was only his imagination getting away from him. “I’m sorry. I’ll go –”
“No, wait,” Meng Yao croaked. “Related – to the Nie sect – forgive me. How did you reach that conclusion?”
“I mean, you’re obviously treated as part of the main family,” Wen Ning pointed out. There were plenty of Nie cousins that weren’t treated anywhere near as well; both Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang were not only protective but almost possessive over Meng Yao’s time and dignity - surely by now everyone knew that the surest way to get them each angry in their own ways was to slight Meng Yao. “You wear Nie braids like them – you wear clothing like them – you have a temper like them –”
Meng Yao started laughing.
“…did I miss something?”
3
“I’m surprised you didn’t go to the Lotus Pier after you’d been absolved,” Nie Huaisang said, tapping the weiqi piece on the board a few times before making a move. “Given your fondness for Wei-xiong and all that.”
“Wei-gongzi’s very nice,” Wen Ning said vaguely, staring down at the board. He’d played a lot of weiqi in his life – including against Wen Ruohan when the man had still been remotely sane, mostly because he’d been the only one stuck back at the palace with him more often than not – but playing against Nie Huaisang required all of his attention. The first time he looked away, he’d get lured into a trap. “Very kind.”
“And yet you stay here,” Nie Huaisang prompted. “In Qinghe, with us, when even your sister picked the Lotus Pier.”
Wen Ning had never been without his sister this long before. He knew that she still expected him to come to the Lotus Pier. She hadn’t expected him to last the week without her; she’d said as much when she first went, huffing at him for being ridiculous – a Wen as a guest cultivator in the Nie sect, of all places? – and telling him, in between reminders to take his medicine on time, that she’d prepare a place for him there so that he would be comfortable when he arrived.
Her letters, in the weeks and now months since that time, had never overtly asked when he was going to finally get around to moving there, and had recently developed an almost quizzical tone, as if she’d finally realized that he wasn’t.
“I like it here,” Wen Ning said, and moved his piece.
Nie Huaisang moved his own almost immediately in response, which meant that Wen Ning had made a horrible mistake that played straight into Nie Huaisang’s hands. Not an uncommon occurrence. 
“I’m glad to hear that,” he said. “We like having you here, too.”
Surprised, Wen Ning looked up.
Nie Huaisang was smiling at him – he smiled nearly as often as Meng Yao, but unlike Meng Yao, he never smiled if he didn’t want to, so his smiles were actually sincerely meant each and every time. He had a wide range of smiles: nervous smiles, cheerful smiles, devious smiles…
Wen Ning was good at reading expressions, but he had to admit he’d never had to work as hard at it as he did with Nie Huaisang.
“We’re a very nice sect, really,” Nie Huaisang said, and even seemed to believe it. “We’re always open to people who are like us. The only thing we can’t tolerate is injustice and betrayal; as long as you stick with us and put us first, you’re ours, and we’re yours.”
That sounded nice, Wen Ning thought, and moved a piece blindly. “You think I’m like you? My sister doesn’t think so.”
“I think you fit in very nicely,” Nie Huaisang said, and his smile had teeth to it. He moved quickly, again. “You’re angry and resentful, but you don’t let it get in the way of what you want - just like us. Your sister probably doesn’t think that about you, either, but then again, that’s why she’s in the Jiang sect, with their heads in the air, dreaming of the impossible. I bet she never even noticed that you had a temper.”
She hadn’t. Wen Ning had been her baby brother and nothing else for a long time; he never had to defend himself as long as she was around. 
He’d never had the chance to defend himself.
(He didn’t resent her for that. He didn’t. She was his big sister, his favorite person, and he loved her so much that he didn’t mind the way that all her fussing sometimes made the world feel cramped and small, as if he were being forced into a place that he’d long since outgrown.)
“Do I have a temper?” he asked, and moved another piece.
“Oh, yes,” Nie Huaisang said. “You’re like me – slow to boil – and like Meng Yao, hiding it behind your eyes. You’re even a bit like da-ge: you don’t need to be the one get the frustration out as long as something deals with it, but if nothing does, it nags at you and wears at you, like a thorn stuck in your flesh, until you can’t be silent any longer. Until you have to do something, or else you’ll explode.”
That sounded about right, Wen Ning thought. He’d never really had a chance to explode in the Wen sect, out of fear of what they’d do to his sister if he did, and he’d been sick with it – he’d limited himself to little rebellions, nameless pranks, right up until he met Wei Wuxian, who was kind to him, and couldn’t stop himself from helping him. He sometimes thought, in the days he’d spent in the dungeons, that if he died he’d come back as a fierce corpse, soul-calming rituals or no, and he’d might even enjoy it if only for the opportunity to finally vent his feelings – to finally pay back every single injustice that he’d ever seen, each one marked down in his heart in an indelible list of regrets.
Maybe Nie Huaisang was right. 
Maybe that was why he stayed here, in the Nie sect, the sect of do not tolerate evil instead of the Lan sect’s chivalry and righteousness or the Jiang sect’s attempt the impossible.
Maybe he wanted to fight back for once. To have a temper, to have rage, to be something more than Wen Qing’s shy, stuttering shadow.
“I like it here,” he said again, but if his words were the same then the flavor was different: he meant it this time.  
He understood, this time, what he meant by it.
Nie Huaisang smiled at him and moved another piece. Winning the game, Wen Ning noticed.
“Good,” he said. “Now move over – sit in front of the mirror. I’ll show you how to do your hair right.”
“Really?”
“Really. Also, Da-ge’s been practically champing at the bit to teach you saber, and Meng Yao has been making grandiose plans about redoing the way we recruit and train doctors with you leading the charge, so if you’re not up for either of those, now’s the time to say something.”
Wen Ning settled down in front of the mirror.
“No,” he said. “Those sound good to me.”
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writing-in-april · 4 years
Text
Helping Hands
Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader
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Summary: After a bad case Spencer needs help shaving after getting injured, he gets help from the least likely person to help in his life.
A/N: Day two of my 750 follower celebration is here! This was totally supposed to be a blurb and ended up being so much long lol. Thank you @imagining-in-the-margins for this idea and letting me write it! And thanks to @spencers-dria for helping me out as always! This fic wasn’t originally going to be Gender Neutral I just ended up writing it that way on accident which is cool, I want my blog to be as inclusive as possible! I’ve had someone check it over for pronoun mistakes but please let me know if you spot any! This is also my first time writing in second person for Spencer!
Warnings: 18+, Enemies to lovers, Knife kink (use of a straight razor), Dry fucking, Humiliation, ONE slight nick to the skin- there’s just a very small bit of blood
Main Masterlist Word count: 1.68k
Your friendship with Spencer was shaky at best, the truth was you two were barely able to work together without biting each other’s heads off. It’s not that you wanted to butt heads with him almost every day, but when he picked apart everything you said constantly you always felt the need to bite back.
Emily just had to put you as roommates for this case so you guys could ‘work out your issues.’ Of course the case then ended up becoming one of your longest cases all year. The tension between you and Spencer ran high throughout the entire case, the petty arguments grew in rate as the team got less and less sleep each day. The case combined with the sleeping arrangements was definitely making you feel miserable.
Unfortunately these hellish two weeks didn’t even end with a completely good outcome. We had caught the unsub, but not before one of your own had ended up injured. Spencer had been securing the perimeter around the suspect’s house when the suspect (who ended up being the unsub) attacked him. Luckily, you hadn’t been that far away from him and were able to help him apprehend the man. You may butt heads with him almost every working day, but he was still a part of your team. You would never want him to be seriously hurt or worse. His knuckles ended up getting bruised and bloodied from his unexpected scuffle with the unsub today although he insisted he was fine.
The sight you were looking at now directly contradicted his words. His fingers were shaking badly as he tried to move his straight razor along his jaw that was coated in shaving cream. When he let out a frustrated grunt when he couldn’t get the right angle you decided to try and lend a helping hand. He seemed to get even angrier when you walked into the hotel’s bathroom, this wasn’t new however, he always seemed to get more agitated when he sensed your presence.
“Let me help you.” You snapped while reaching forward to grab the razor, your movements were in stark contrast to your words, only doing that softly as to not cut the both of you.
“Why do you want to help me?” He snapped back with just as much bite in his tone and jerked his hand away so you could not reach the razor.
“Does it matter? You need help and I’m offering to help. So sit down and let me help.”  The real reason that you wanted to help didn’t have to be known by Spencer, he didn’t have to know that you felt guilty. His injuries were from no fault of your own however, you could not help a little bit of guilt pool in the bottom of your stomach. You may not like him very much, but again you did not want to see him hurt.
He finally acquiesced to your request sitting down on the edge of the tub that just had enough of a ledge so he could sit rather comfortably. You reached out and gestured towards the razor letting out a little sigh of relief when he handed it to you, glad that he was finally letting you help.
The handle of the razor was simple in design with no ornaments adorning it and it was made of a dark wood, perhaps mahogany. The simple design of the handle and blade did not mean that it was inexpensive, the weight in your hand alone was a testament of how finely made it probably was. You suspected it might have been one of the only things Spencer splurged his money on.
Soaping up his cheeks again, you then straddled his thighs so you could get as close as possible to him. He squeaked a little in surprise at your sudden willingness to be close to him. In all honesty, you didn’t really want to be that close to him, but you had promised to help him, this just was the only way you could get the correct angles.
Besides the initial squeak the fell from his lips Spencer had become strangely quiet as you got to work shaving off his stubble.
His silence was then replaced by something else, the inability to sit still. Each time you started to scrap the razor against his jaw his hips shuffled under you, making it extremely difficult to get a close enough shave.
“Stop squirming.” He of course felt the need to again not listen to you and he continued to squirm underneath you. You ran your fingers through his hair then tugging on the stands to crane his neck backwards so you could get full access to the underside of his jaw. He defiantly squirmed again, causing you to falter with the razor again, this time accidentally nicking the underside of his jaw.
Instead of hissing and pulling away from you would expect; Spencer threw you for a loop when he let out a loud moan while jutting his hips up into your own. A look of mortification came over Spencer’s face at his actions, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere else, but with your body straddling him he couldn’t quite escape your grasp so easily.
You weren’t going to lie, Spencer was an attractive man, your favorite part of his looks being his fluffy locks and the scruff he left behind after shaving. You weren’t going to pass up the opportunity of having an attractive man underneath you and begging. Experimentally you reached up with your free hand to brush up against the small nick that had only let out just a little drop of blood. Pushing down slightly on it you then rolled your hips to grind against his hardening cock in his slacks. His response to your actions pleased you, his slacks becoming more strained and another moan left his lips, this one much more high pitched.
“Are you ok with this? I won’t be gentle.”
“Yes, please do whatever you want.” You were pleasantly surprised how quickly a plea fell from his lips. It was going to be so easy to ruin him.
“Tell me if you want me to stop. You may infuriate me, but I do not want to make you uncomfortable.” He nodded quickly in understanding before tentatively moving his hands to rest on your hips lightly to make sure you were ok with his touch and so that his hands didn’t suffer from any unnecessary pain.
You were right, it was extremely easy to ruin him. It only took a few short minutes of grinding your hips into his own before you could tell he was getting a little close to his release.
“Is this all it takes for you to get off? That’s a little pathetic.” The humiliating words only made Spencer’s moans louder though at this point they had devolved into high pitched pitiful whimpers. You were glad he was keen on the idea of some light humiliation and decided to continue with some more harsh words, “I haven’t even gotten a chance to use it anywhere near any more exciting places yet. You’re so needy, Spencer.” The evil smirk that made its way onto your face at the thought of getting to use the razor in more, exhilarating places, made Spencer visibly gulp hard.
You shifted a little forward which brought more pleasure to you, enough to push you to teeter on the edge. As you felt your release begin to wash over you surged forward to mark up Spencer’s neck with a hickey to go along with the other slight mark you had left. The rocking of your hips sped up as you worked yourself through your blissful release. Spencer may have been one of the most infuriating people you knew, but you couldn’t deny that even with a few swirls of your hips together he gave you a stronger orgasm then most men ever had. After a few gasps of your breath into his neck after your release you began to focus on his own. You could just leave him hanging and force him to take a cold shower to alleviate the straining in his pants, though you couldn’t deny how good he had been for you.
“Beg me. Beg me to let you finish.” Carding your fingers through his hair once more you yanked hard so you could get to catch a glimpse of his gorgeous neck again. You brought the razor up to rest at the underside of his jaw close to the previous cut you had accidentally given him.
“Please!” Even though his begging was only one word, you were satisfied with how desperate he sounded for you. You had completely ruined him without even taking off a single article of clothing.
“Cum for me Spencer.” As soon as the words of permission fell from your lips, his hips started to meet yours with more vigor. His groans came impossibly louder as he neared his finish, so you surged forward to capture his lips with your own for the first time. Immediately you slipped your tongue into the cavern of his mouth, swallowing all of the noises that tried to escape. He rocked his hips forward once, twice, three times before feeling the front of his slacks dampen with his own release.
When you had both calmed down and slightly processed what you had both indulged in you separated from him to help clean up the nick on his jaw and to grab him a pair of sweatpants to change into. You returned to help him finish shaving making sure to leave the little bit of scruff you liked. As you finished he moved to rub slight circles into your hip, you didn’t let him do it for very long until you made sure that it wasn’t hurting his hands too much. You were both extremely content with your current position. Maybe he wasn’t as infuriating as you once thought. In any case you had enjoyed lending him your helping hands, maybe you could help him again if he was willing.
——
Tag list (message me if you want to be added):
Spencer Reid/CM taglist- @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss
Sub!Spencer taglist- @thatsonezesty13- tags are not working for you for some reason!!
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cocogukkie · 4 years
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2020 in review: kdramas (the heart fluttering, the disappointing, the saviors of 2020)
it’s december 31st! the new year is quite literally upon us (some of y’all are already in 2021) and my procrastinating self has chosen to upload this today. i’ve always loved these rec lists and I wanted to do one for 2020! this year was a rollercoaster for kdramas with some excellent ones and some not so excellent ones. i watched all of these in 2020 but not all of them were released in 2020.
if you want to use my questions to make your own list please do!! or give your favs in the tags, i’d love to read them. (fair warning, some of these have multiple answers bc i just can’t choose one!!)
drama that made me laugh
When The Camellia Blooms (2019)
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i finally got around to watching when the camellia blooms this year and it. was. so. funny. oh my goodness, the comedic timing in so many scenes was pure excellency and im kinda mad at myself that i didn’t watch this last year. this isn’t just a comedy for those who are interested, its a thriller/romance but its also so fucking funny. definitely watch this if you want to laugh (and be touched bc the emotional scenes in this one are beautiful)
drama that made me cry
Sweet Home (2020)
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hahah….. um this one is gonna go to sweet home friends. i went into this one with zero expectations and the first couple episodes didn’t really wow me? but i kept watching and holy shit fam. this show really picks up story-wise around ep 4 and makes the viewer love a lot of these initially unlikable characters. all i can say is that the end was devastating for me and i cried quite a bit. (warning, there are a lot of mature themes in this one so make sure you look for trigger warnings or send me an ask and i’ll list them all out for you) 
best OST
Itaewon Class (2020) 
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i loved the ost for itaewon class!! the music is just so inspirational and pump up music, its so good. my favorites are ‘you make me back’ by woosung and ‘start’ by gaho.
drama with chemistry royalty (aka the best couple) 
i have three for this one because i just cannot choose one. 
It’s Okay To Not Be Okay (2020)
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we recognize this one as one of the best things to come out of 2020. go moon young and moon kang tae have some of the best chemistry i have ever seen in a drama couple. i waited on the edge of my seat every single week for the next couple of episode just so i could fawn over these two. they work so well together, lift each other up, and so fucking funny together and support one another. while they’re not the chillest couple (lmao) they’re most certainly one with the most personality. they’re so cute and bicker and they just get each other. who could ask for more.
Flower of Evil (2020)
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our badass mom and dad 😭😭. this was another peak drama that came out this year and our married partners-in-crime-but-not-really had amazing chemistry. baek hee sung and cha ji won were so cute as a married couple but they were even more precious later on in the drama after certain things unfolded (no spoilers). they both just get each other and protected one another as well as on the most precious kdrama children this year, their daughter eunha. they were so wholesome, flower of evil is so very worth a watch.
Into The Ring (2020)
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this was one of the more underappreciated kdramas of the year but hoo buddy was the main couples chemistry top notch. they were so friggin cute and i just couldn’t. goo se ra is highkey one of the best female characters i’ve ever seen, she’s absolute chaos, lawful chaos, but chaos nonetheless. her other half, seo gong myung is opposite from her as lawful neutral. he’s just along for the ride that is se ra and loves her. they’re both so very fond and protective of each other and back each other up!! very very cute and you’ll definitely replay more than a couple of their scenes together.
most disappointing
Record of Youth (2020)
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it’s sad but true… i went into this one with so much hope and excitement (i was riding off that ‘psycho but its okay’ high) and i was vastly disappointed. the plot mostly focused on the male lead, and there wasn’t much characterization for the female lead which i didn’t like. honestly, i only cared about maybe 3-4? characters in the whole drama. the rest were absolutely terrible or plain boring and i ended up skipping eps 14 and 15 and just watched the finale. i would not recommend tbh.
drama you can’t really get through
Crash Landing on You (2019)
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this one is absolutely on me, i want so badly to love this one. but i just… can’t seem to get past ep 2? i’ve tried!! i swear, but i just cannot get through it. maybe in 2021, i can try again and i’ll enjoy it more.
drama everyone else liked but was meh
Kairos (2020)
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i though kairos was a bit predictable tbh. i know those of us who did end up watching it really liked it but maybe its because i watch so many crime/mystery shows that this one didn’t really do it for me. the writing is quite solid and everything connects well, i would recommend that those who don’t really watch thrillers, to watch this one. (also the friendship between the female lead and her two friends is suuuper cute and worth it alone to watch kairos)
favorite romance
It’s Okay To Not Be Okay (2020)
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yeah… this one wins again lol. what can i say, i just loved it so much and the main theme of the show is romance (its also a comedy and a mental health/healing drama) all i can say is watch this if you haven’t yet, its definitely worth it!! 
favorite mystery
Memorist (2020)  & Watcher (2019)
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i really enjoyed these two mystery dramas. both were super fun to watch and very kinda unique in their own ways. i liked memorist because it was lowkey funny and i liked the relationships between the characters, but most importantly i couldn’t guess the main antagonist by the end! i really thought i knew who it was and then i was completely wrong lmao. watcher was also very good, the main trio had really good chemistry and i really cared about all the characters. (also i’ll never say no to watching seo kang joon) plus the plot twists threw me a bit at the end which is always a feeling i welcome, i love being surprised and wrong (as long as it makes sense)
favorite slice of life
Hospital Playlist (2020)
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oh my goodness, i was late to the hospital playlist party and i regret it because this show is so. so. good. its just a slice of life following 5 friends who are doctors and work at the same hospital together but its so much more than that. this is honestly one of the first shows i’ve seen that are optimistic? in the show, every time i thought a plot was going to play out a certain way (usually negatively, as tends to be life unfortunately) it surprised me by taking the more optimistic wholesome route. characters in subplots changed for the better, became more understanding, chose to do the right thing, etc. if you want a feel good drama where the main characters have wonderful platonic chemistry and just care about each other but is also super funny, watch hospital playlist!! (season 2 is coming out early 2021 and im so pumped)
favorite fantasy
The Untamed (2019)
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this one is a cdrama but i watched it in 2020, mostly because of how many people on the internet were adamant that the rest of us watch this and ngl they were v right. the untamed was very very good and im really glad i gave it a chance and watched it, its also my first cdrama ever. the chemistry between the male leads is honestly what makes this show and its worth the 50? i think? episodes. to be completely honest the fanfiction for the show are peak and if you do watch this, go straight to ao3 and you will not be disappointed.
dramas that saved 2020
The Uncanny Counter (2020) & Run On (2020)
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these two dramas are among those that started airing at the end of the year and will go into the beginning of 2021 and absolutely saved the end of 2020 for me. while neither of these are finished, both have been excellent so far and worth starting. uncanny counter has the best use of the found family trope i have ever seen. i fucking love the four counters and their relationship with each other, how protective they are of one another. they all have amazing chemistry and the actors have amazing chemistry in the making films.
run on has one of the cutest couples that will definitely make my best chemistry list for next year. i didn’t put them on this list bc they actually haven’t gotten together yet but once they do, they’re gonna be freaking adorable, i can already tell. there’s no specific grand events propelling the plot forward, but just following the lives of these unique, interesting and relatable people who have casual yet entertaining conversations with each other. the show is super soft and the main couple are so straightforward and honest (plus theres mutual pining!!)
best dramas of the year
here are my best dramas (and one movie) watched this year, no further explanation given lolol. just watch them and enjoy because these are fucking excellent in the feels department. trust me 💞
It’s Okay To Not Be Okay (2020)
Flower of Evil (2020)
Itaewon Class (2020)
Hospital Playlist (2020)
One Spring Night (2019)
Midnight Runners (2017)
Hot Stove League (2019) 
I hope this gives you some fun stuff to watch!! or convince you to start that drama in your watchlists! 
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Exercise Buds
I’ve seen a lot of people request I do a Tindalos/Cthugha rivalry for the readers attention. So I decided to make this quick little thing with my own twist on it. I wouldn’t mind revisiting this rivalry at some point or maybe having Cthugha try and become a Vtuber.
Cthugha/Tindalos
~By the growing concern of your guildmates and your physical condition you all agreed to take a bit more concern for your athleticism in case a scenario would arise where it would be your only option. Luckily Kengo happened to be an expert on the matter and was able to formulate a regiment for your guild. One of your requirements was a jog at a certain time of the day which you took time to properly adjust your schedule to over the course of two weeks now. However this week on your run you actually crossed paths with a familiar berserker. “ Oh, hey there!” Cthugha greeted you in a nonchalant way as you both almost bumped into each other. You were glad you didn’t because if you had you would have most likely caused an explosion thanks to the large Transient being startled by the impact. Either way he seemed dressed for a jog thanks to his loose gold faded shirt and sweatbands. “I had no idea you would be jogging this route right now. None.” The red entity laughed nervously. You asked him if he had gotten lost on his workout routine. “What? Lost? No way, not a super cool guy like me!” He replied. “If anything I was just… looking for a new route.” Cthugha puffed out his cheeks and blushed a little as he continued. “But, since you’re here… how about you and I-” Before he could finish his suggestion a third voice cut in that snuck up from nowhere.
“Why if it isn’t my two favorite people?” A familiar blue furred arm wrapped around both you and Cthugha in a seemingly friendly hug. “The best summoner I know and… some other guy.” Cthugha took offense to that.
“You know well who I am!” Cthugha snapped in annoyance.
“Hmm…” Tindalos took a minute to ponder. “Nope. I think I’d recognize someone as simple as you.”
“S-Simple!?”
Tindalos chuckled and turned his attention back to you. “So, are you guys out on a date or something?” You corrected Tindalos and clarified you had just bumped into each other not too long ago while out on your jogs. “Oh? Since when did the two of you jog?” A thought clicked in his head. “You must be taking after my advice from my workout streams! Nothing like good cardio before a workout after all!”
“Don’t give yourself too much credit.” Cthugha sneered. “A shrimp like you has nothing on me~.”
Tindalos took a minute to size up Cthugha. “For a simple guy you’re pretty big, but I’m definitely the handsome one.” The blue therian brought his arms behind his head and gave a wink as he posed for both you and the red Therian.
“Stop calling me simple!” Cthugha demanded. To avoid a literal explosion you made an effort to step between the two…
~And it somehow worked. You were now on a run with two of the most physically active transients you knew. You admired both briefly as you flanked behind the two of them. You definitely took note that Cthugha not only looked powerful since he was also a bodybuilder but also was powerful thanks to his power over explosions. Meanwhile Tindalos had an impressive physique despite spending most of his time in his own room and not being as much of a powerlifter as Cthugha was. You were at least grateful Cthugha agreed to play nice…
Unfortunately Cthugha wanted to do anything BUT play nice. He had been planning an opportunity like this for weeks now. He had to memorize your route, find the perfect outfit to show off his physique, come up with the perfect excuse, and work up the courage just to ask you to go on a date with him. But NO. This mutt had to show up and sabotage his perfectly executed plan to woo you. He knew Tindalos probably caught wind of this plan and just “conveniently” went out on a jog of his own just to mess with Cthugha’s well considered plan.
Tindalos just wanted to stretch his legs and when he saw you chatting it up with another Old One he figured it’d be fun. He just thinks it’s fun to tease Cthugha.
~After going for at it for a while you cave first and explain you can’t run anymore without taking a hydration break. “We’ve definitely ran pretty far…” Tindalos added.
Cthugha scoffed at the both of you. “This is pretty far for you? I’m still raring to go!” He huffed out.
“Well good for you. But some of us more complex and intelligent folks need a drink every once in a while.” The therian quipped as he grabbed his water bottle and started chugging.
“For someone thirsty you’re pretty talkative.” Cthugha grumbled. “Oh, um… are you okay though?” Cthugha asked you as you took a gulp of your water. You said you would be okay after a minute to drink some water.
“You only brought water with you?” Tindalos asked. “Why not try some of my sports drink? Don’t worry I’m not sponsed or anything- I just happen to like it.” He handed you his water bottle after wiping off the mouth piece with a tissue and letting take a taste. You were surprised at how sweet it was given the fact it was a sports drink. “Yeah these guys definitely know how to make their stuff taste really good!” The canine continued to rave to you.
Cthugha just watched him fawn all over you and gush about some silly sports drink and he was not happy with how it was going. Cthugha had brought his own water but could go for just a while longer without it. However since the rest of the group was having theirs he figured he would at least take a sip but he could barely concentrate on anything but his anger and jealousy of how close you two were getting. He was so enraged, in fact, he squeezed his own water bottle a bit too tight causing the pressure to build up in the bottle til it couldn’t contain itself- The transient’s bottle burst in his hands from how tight a grip he had on it and the contents of the bottle spilled all over himself, leaving a huge mess of water on his clothes. “Ah!” Cthugha gasped. “Now I’m all wet…!” He was embarrassed to have lost his cool like that in front of you. But rather than be annoyed with him you were concerned as you took a tissue of your own and very carefully began to help him dry off. “What-” You just assumed Cthugha forgot his own strength again and accidentally made a mess for himself so you just wanted to help him before he had a chance to properly freak out. “You’d… do that for me?” The red transient sniffled as he was touched by your kindness and definitely knew he had to ask you out one day…
Meanwhile Tindalos watched impressed. “Well played…” He muttered. “But that would be giving someone as simple as him a lot of credit. Still I’ll admit simplicity does still have it’s charms.”
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murusagi · 3 years
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[Ambush Meal] A Collaboration with Lord Toma!? Love and Madness of Delicious Meal Ft. Cage Translation
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This is a part of Otomate’s April Fool’s Special Event in which the cast of several of the company’s franchises turn into social media personalities.
Orlok: ...Bonjourno. [Pio House] Episode 1926. Today, we're going to film your favorite series, "Oruru's Ambush☆Delicious Meal Next Door".
In this series, I'm going to make a surprise visit to someone's home and enjoy a meal there.
Nicola: Orlok, can you hear me?
Orlok: Yes. The earphones are working perfectly.
Nicola: Great. I also can see you clearly through this camera.
Gilbert: We better explain the rules to the viewers.
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[Rule No. 1: Oruru must obey any instructions given to him through the earphones.]
[Rule No. 2: Oruru must eat the given food without being picky.]
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[The ones giving instructions in this episode.]
Orlok: I'll do my best.
Direttore: Nice answer. Now then, without further ado, let us ambush our target this time around! Please press the interphone in front of you.
Orlok: ...Clicks.
Ding Dong
Toma: Who is it--oh, if it isn't Orlok from [Pio House]! Did you come here by yourself? What a good boy.
Orlok: Y-Yes…
Dante: ...He's stroking his head.
Nicola: That's Orlok for you. He's quick at gaining someone's favor.
Orlok: Umm… I'm happy to be able to meet Toma from "Love and Madness of Animal Channel".
Toma: Me too. So, what brings you here? Do you want to hang out with me or what?
Orlok: No. Actually…
Toma: I see, so you want to have dinner here. Hmmm… let's see.
Orlok: Huh… A-Am I not allowed to?
Direttore: ...We already made an appointment, right?
Gilbert: Yeah, we should have made it…
Toma: You kind of remind me of Shin, Orlok.
Orlok: R-Really…?
Toma: Yeah. He's like a lil brother to me. ...Right. Can you try me calling me Onii-chan?
Orlok: What?
Toma: I'll let you in if you do. How?
Direttore: That's quite the painful request from someone whom you just met.
Nicola: I understand his feelings, though. "Onii-chan"... It has a nice ring to it.
Dante: I'll give it some thoughts if you want to be called that…?
Nicola: I don't know how to feel if you call me Onii-chan at this age… You think so, right, Direttore?
Direttore: Fufu… I will hate it, for sure. Well, I don't have little brothers? No need to worry about that?
Orlok: U-Umm, so what should I do?
Gilbert: Oops. M'bad. We stopped giving you instructions. ...Do as he said. We can't go on with the filming if he doesn't let us in.
Orlok: Okay.
...To-Toma Onii-chan.
Toma: Hm? Sorry, your voice is so small I couldn't hear it. Can you say it again?
Dante: He definitely heard it!
Nicola: Orlok, one more time!
Orlok: Toma Onii-chan…!
Toma: ...Nice. This feels satisfying for some reason. That guy will never call me that, after all. Alright, come in.
Orlok: I… I feel like I lost something important… In any case, I'm coming in.
Toma: I'm making dinner right now. Wait a bit, 'kay?
Orlok: Y-Yes.
Nicola: Orlok, how's the target doing?
Orlok: U-Uhh…
Toma: Bolognese with lots of minced meat~I feel like an Italian already~♪
Orlok: He's humming… some spells, I think? He's frying something while doing that… Looks very focused.
Dante: I see. It's time for our usual "House Tour" then.
Yang: Go to his closet.
Orlok: ...What!?
Nicola: Hm? You're up, Yang? Too bad. I wish you wouldn't wake up for eternity.
Yang: You sure are messing around with me, filming while I was sleeping. 5 billion women are crying right now.
Dante: 5 billion…!?
Yang: In any case, off you go to the closet, Orlok. Let's uncover the true nature of our targ--What are you all…?
Knocks.
Orlok: H-Huh? I can't hear you guys all of sudden...
Gilbert: ...Orlok, can you hear us?
Nicola: Don't mind us and just go on, Orlok. Yang is currently reflecting.
Orlok: O… Okay. So, I don't need to go to the closet?
Dante: Unfortunately, you must obey any instructions that have already been given to you. Let's head there while Toma is cooking.
Orlok: A-Alright.
***
Orlok: ...I found the closet.
Gilbert: Looks normal to me.
Nicola: Hey, Direttore? You've been quiet for a while. Come on, say something interesting.
Direttore: ...Ridiculous.
Dante: Where did all his tension from before go!?
Gilbert: H-Hey, you okay? Is your stomach hurt or something?
Direttore: ...I'm not interested in peeking into someone else's room.
Nicola: Hey, your real self is starting to show, you know? Be careful.
Direttore: ...Oops. I sincerely apologize for the mistake, letting out my honest opinions like that.
Orlok: ...I found the closet. It doesn't look suspicious.
Nicola: Where should we go next? He lives in a one-room apartment so there's nothing to look at.
Orlok: The balcony, maybe?
Gilbert: Nice idea. Let's take a look. Maybe he has a kitchen garden or something.
Orlok: Then, I'll open the curtain…
Opens.
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Orlok: ...This is…
Dante: ...A cage.
Nicola: A cage.
Direttore: That's undoubtedly a cage.
Dante: This must be… the cage he uses for "Love and Madness of Animal Channel", right?
Orlok: To observe the animals…?
Gilbert: Y-Yea. Let's just think it that way.
Nicola: But any animals who could go into this cage… For example…
Direttore: Human beings.
All: …….
Nicola: ...Let's just pretend we do not see it.
Dante: I-I agree. My capo's intuition tells me this isn't something you can touch carelessly.
Orlok: Y-Yes. I'll close the curtain.
Closes.
Toma: …..
Orlok: !!?
Toma: ...Did you see?
Orlok: I-I didn't…
Toma: Really?
Orlok: (gulps)
Toma: Fine. Follow me, I just finished cooking.
Orlok: O-Okay.
Toma: I could only make this much.
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Orlok: Whoa… Amazing.
Gilbert: How could he make this many in such a short amount of time!?
Dante: Now that I look at it again, what are those strange ingredients!?
Toma: You're in your growth period, right, Orlok? Eat a lot.
Orlok: Tha-Thank you. But is it really okay for me to eat this much…?
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Toma: This is Latium's famous Volcano Bocca, a soup containing shrimps, shellfish and vegetables. You can warm up your body with this.
Direttore: Latium… I feel like I heard about it somewhere.
Orlok: I'm digging in...ugh!
Dante: A-Are you okay!? Did he put in poison or--!?
Orlok: S-Spicy… But it has such deep flavors…
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Toma: These are steamed crab dumplings, dobin-mushi, and fried sesames. I used the vegetables from Kaga, queen crabs and barracuda stocks.
Orlok: T-These are great too! It tastes like something a pro chef makes.
Nicola: I get him. They look like the high-quality food you receive at the inns around Kanazawa.
Gilbert: That's an awfully detailed comment you have there.
Dante: Where is Kanazawa, anyway…?
Nicola: A place with the best onsen around.
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Toma: I also have a cake. I heard your birthday is on April 23? Mine is on April 12. Since our birthdays fall on the same month, I made it for celebration.
Orlok: T-Thank you… Hehe… I'm happy…
Dante: …
Direttore: What is wrong, signore? Are you jealous he got sweets?
Dante: W-Why would I…!? I-I-I just think the appearance gets my taste buds tingling…!
Nicola: Endure it for a while. I'll buy you gelato after this.
Gilbert: Anyway, how come Toma knows Orlok's birthday?
Nicola: ...Now that you mention it…
Dante: …
Direttore: Let's put that aside. It's better to keep that a secret.
Orlok: (munch munch)
Toma: How? Is it tasty?
Orlok: Yeah. ...It makes me happy.
Dante: I don't know how to explain it but seeing Orlok eat makes me feel peaceful…
Nicola: I get you. Seeing Gilbert and Yang eat doesn't make me this happy. It's not heart-warming at all.
Gilbert: Yang aside, why do you have to connect it to me?
Yang: For crying out loud, don't put me and Redford on the same shoes.
Nicola: ...Oh? I'm sure I already locked you up. You broke out already?
Yang: Of course. After receiving such a warm welcome, I should give my thanks…
Gilbert: S-Stop it, Yang! Don't pull out your blade!
Dante: You too, Nicola! Put your gun away! We're still filming!
Direttore: Oh… What a scandalous dispute. It pains my heart.
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[We are experiencing poor reception issues. Please enjoy this beautiful view of Sakura.]
Orlok: Thanks for the food.
Direttore: What a good boy. He ate them all without leaving anything.
Toma: Amazing, you ate them all by yourself. I was planning to put the leftovers into a container so you can share it with the others.
Gilbert: I wanted to try some after seeing so many interesting foods like those.
Orlok: So-Sorry. All of them were delicious so I just…
Dante: It's all right. Finishing them off is part of the rules so you didn't do anything wrong.
Nicola: Great job, Orlok. We have enough footage with this.
Orlok: Thanks for today, Toma. I'll be going now.
Toma: Ah, wait a minute. I actually have a request for you.
Orlok: ?
Toma: I still need more footage for my channel, can you help me with that?
Gilbert: Well, why not? He helped us wrap up the filming without any troubles.
Dante: We should return the favor.
Orlok: Okay. I'd like to help if there's anything I can do.
Toma: Great to hear that. Now--.
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Can you get into the cage?
Orlok: ….Huh? ...What?
Toma: I've been keeping my eyes on you. Since you look like a small animal, it’s just perfect.
Gilbert: I see, so it's come to this…
Toma: I figured you'll be lonely so I put some plushies inside.
Orlok: T-That's not the problem here…
Toma: Now, now. You can't tell unless you try. Get in there.
Orlok: I don't want to--.
Toma: Only you can do this, Orlok. Please.
Orlok: ….
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Toma: Can you look here? ...Yes, nice. It'll gain more viewers, I'm sure.
Orlok: Can I… get out of here already?
Toma: No, you just got in here. Oh, right. I have some chains. Can you put them on?
Dante: Even chains… This is abnormal…
Orlok: U-Uuuhhh… Guys, what should I do…?
Nicola: You'll be fine, Orlok. It surprisingly suits you.
Direttore: I agree. I'm sure there are people who are into this kind of thing.
Orlok: ...I'm not fine at all…
Toma: It's not as cute as hamster, but there's a huge demand for something like this. Do you mind if I turn it into a series if it gets good feedback?
Orlok: !!?
Toma: I think we were meant to meet. Shin would scold me again if he were here, though.
Orlok: I want to go home…
Toma: Hm? You want to meet him? He's off for another recording right now, so he probably won't return for a while.
Orlok: ….
...I realized something. I shouldn't trust others. The only one I could rely on is myself…
Toma: Haha. That's a nice expression you have there. With that said, it all depends on you guys whether I should make this a series or not. Don't forget to subscribe to our channel!
T/L Notes:  Dobin-mushi: Food steam-boiled in an earthenware teapot
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aoitrinity · 4 years
Text
The “Me Too”
DISCLAIMER: I am about to put forth further speculation about a major Destiel-related event from this season, specifically the confession scene in 15x18. This is 100% pure speculation and I do not claim to have any insider knowledge AT ALL. If you are not in a place to read such things, please go take care of yourself instead of reading this. Do not cause yourself any additional pain. 
If you are here to be an asshole and call me delusional...uh...I mean, go for it, but like I really don’t get what that’s doing to make your life better? If shitting on people’s desire for understanding a TV show brings you joy then uh...that says more about you than it does about me?
With that out of the way...read below the cut for my theory about the “me too” line.
I know I just unloaded my theory about the finale on all of you the other day, and that I should probably give you all a break in between my bouts of theory-dumping, but I had to get this out here tonight.
If you somehow haven’t seen it yet these last few (painfully exhausting) days, there is a rumor going around of a cut in episode 15x18 of a specific line--a “me too” that Jensen supposedly recorded during the 15x18 sequence, which would have given us all textual validation not only that Cas is in love with Dean, but that Dean is in love with Cas. Various people have been trying to confirm or deny this rumor since it surfaced. We all figured it would have happened during the final scene, with Dean crying, alone. It would have been there in place of the crying, and we hypothesized that Jensen had to dub it over with AMR of his sobs. It was an interesting thought, but we had no real proof it ever happened. I, for my part, started to assume it was entirely false.
But then tonight, on the Latin American CW, we apparently discovered that in the Spanish-language dub of 15x18, they had taken Dean’s last line to Cas, “Don’t do this Cas,” and dubbed it as “yo a ti”--translated to “me too,” seemingly confirming to us that the line did exist!
I watched the clip of the dub excitedly, hoping for some secret new shot that we had been robbed of in the original episode, but the “me too” was simply dubbed over Dean’s line of “Don’t do this Cas,” which is definitely something Dean very clearly said in the original recording. That wasn’t a dub, Jensen said that line.
So what gives? Where the heck did the “me too” come from?
Well, as apparently I am wont to do recently...I talked @winchester-reload‘s ear off and was eventually hit with a stroke of realization. 
I don’t think the “me too” went in the crying scene. I think Dean said it to Cas’s face, and we were robbed of it.
Before I go any further, I want to again remind you that this is PURE SPECULATION. PLEASE JUDGE FOR YOURSELF AND ALWAYS BE SKEPTICAL.
So.
The original end of the scene runs as follows:
Dean: Why does this sound like a goodbye?
Cas: Because it is. I love you.
Dean: Don’t do this, Cas.
*a longing exchange of looks, with Cas smiling through his tears even more broadly than he was earlier*
*the Empty appears and Dean starts to panic*
Cas: Goodbye Dean.
*Cas throws Dean out the way, smiles at him one last time, and is taken*
Now that always struck me as a sort of weird exchange because...I mean, Dean can tell Cas not to “do this,” but whatever he was going to do that would get his ass taken by the Empty, he had clearly already done. But I originally handwaved it as Dean begging Cas not to go and leave him again by dying, even though it was too late, because I was too entranced with the beauty of the scene and of the performances to imagine anything otherwise.
However, after this Spanish-language dub story broke this evening, I started to wonder if the exchange had initially gone a little bit differently. 
What if the “don’t do this, Cas” was pulled from earlier in the scene? 
I would have originally imagined that it actually went between the “Because it is” and the “I love you,” but in the leaked shots of script we got a few days ago, there doesn’t seem to be any line there--Cas goes straight from his “because it is” to the “I love you.” Thus I conclude one of two things: either the line it was adlibbed or added by Jensen on the spot, between the “because it is” and the “I love you,” or it was dialogue that originally came earlier in the scene.
Either way, what matters is that I think that line, “Don’t do this, Cas,” was moved to after Cas’s “I love you” in the final cut and replaced the “me too.” I think the initial episode probably followed the Latin American dub instead, and went like this (with the one line inserted where I feel it best fits, though again, it could have come from earlier):
Dean: Why does this sound like a goodbye?
Cas: Because it is.
(Dean: Don’t do this, Cas)
Cas: I love you.
Dean: ...me too.
*a longing exchange of looks, with Cas smiling through his tears even more broadly than he was earlier*
*the Empty appears and Dean starts to panic*
Cas: Goodbye Dean.
*Cas throws Dean out the way, smiles at him one last time, and is taken*
Well.
Doesn’t that all hit a bit differently now? Doesn’t it now make sense why, after Dean’s line, Cas starts smiling more broadly than he was during the entire rest of the scene? Doesn’t it make sense now that when Dean turns to look back at the Empty emerging, there are way more tears in his eyes than there were in the prior shot? Doesn’t Dean’s body language line up better between shots if we read it this way? Doesn’t it make Cas’s sacrifice hurt both more and less at the same time, because he could go to the Empty knowing he was loved in return? That he had the one thing he wanted most? 
To me, at least, it does. 
Unfortunately, I think that, similar to what I speculate happened with the finale...they were told by the network that they had to cut Dean’s reciprocation because the CW panicked about coming off as too gay at the last moment. You can read all about that in my other post.
Anyway, here’s more food for thought. Remember @oceaxe-ifdawn’s post about how she had spoken with a cast member about how the script for the finale was being frantically rewritten in March, the weekend after they finished shooting for 15x18? Why would they suddenly have to start tossing out their own ending in MARCH? TWO WEEKS before they were supposed to start filming the finale?
What if it was because that was the moment when the network started to pivot? If their contacts on set told them how very beautifully homosexually gay the scene was, and that was the moment that the CW decided that they couldn’t risk losing a very specific (conservative, heterosexual) part of their fanbase and needed to start toning down the gay before it got out of hand? And since they couldn’t obviously go back and reshoot anything for 15x18, given everyone then immediately went into quarantine for COVID, they had to remove Dean’s reciprocation from the script and replace it with another, earlier shot, that could have FEASIBLY gone in its place. But they couldn’t take Cas’s confession because it was entirely necessary to the whole plot of the season (and that, I think, was a fucking genius move by the writers to at least get us this much--god bless you, Bobo).
And this way, the CW could actually have their cake and eat it too--they could claim they were still being accepting of queer people (look, we let Cas confess his affection for Dean!) while avoiding the potential loss of their favorite cishet male audience (whom they really want to transition to Walker after all of this is over because MONEY) that they might suffer if that audience discovered that one of their two “traditionally masculine” lead characters was in love with another man this whole time.
The only reason they didn’t carry it all off is that, when they needed to send the script over to the Spanish-language dubbers for recording, there was some sort of screw-up. They somehow forgot to have the dialogue swapped out back in March and the lines were never replaced in the dub script.
And that is how we got the “me too” line from Dean in Latin America tonight, a line that we had  heard rumors existed, but had no actual evidence of... until now.
I’m sorry to have pulled you guys into this theory with me, but... It just lines up too perfectly. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, yes, but sometimes that cigar is actually a dick. A big, beautiful, gay dick that your stupid homophobic TV network executives are censoring because they are afraid of the reactions of their more conservative viewership.
On the plus side, I think that this more than ever confirms that Destiel is and was always canon. Textually. Reciprocally. 110%. 
And the CW fucking robbed us of it.
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imperiuswrecked · 3 years
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To me, it doesn’t make sense to make Magneto the main villain because it has been done so much before and it would connect it so much to the Fox Films. Also I think there is a GREAT laziness in writing Magneto especially in films. He generally didn’t want to kill all humans, subjugate them yes because he doesn’t trust them. Which isn’t a ‘good guy’ move in itself and he slips in and out of.
He legit murdered genocide I think when he was going to kill all humans. Like no.
I also think that the average cinema goer likes Magneto too much… or maybe that is me. It would also require them to recast the most famous faces of the franchises?
Like is anyone going to care if they recast Jean, Scott, Iceman, Rogue, Kitty, Beast even Mystique but Magneto? I don’t know. I have long been a fan of an actual Jewish actor playing Magneto but following Ian McKellan would be difficult for the casual fans to accept. I don’t think Fassbender left such an amazing impression.
Even my most average MCU fans friends (and god they love the MCU 😤 but I see past it) still talk about how much they want to see a Magneto solo film.
To me I would put the focus on their reveal and sentinels. Then again I thought they’ll go through Krakoa stuff. Like it turns out the mutants have been living on this Island etc
With the ‘simpler times’ comment I have to for the sake of my sanity have to think that it was because Pietro knew where he was. Things were clear to him, as much as it hurt he had his sister. The following trauma had not occurred. Again I don’t think this is true but I am trying to reason bad writing. He didn’t doubt his morality but was indebted and controlled. Shitty actions were out of his control.
I don’t read Avengers so I didn’t know he was shelved for so long.
I think the Trial of Magneto is trying to ride on the coattails of Wandavision because even though she’s not a mutant a lot of the internet was wanting Magneto to show up. So what is the best way to get those fans who wanted to see that? Set up a family comic book where they establish the family again because I guess the MCU fans heard they’ve changed their background and themselves didn’t like it.
I see the Trial of Magneto as something poorly thought out as they saw what the audience was interested in. The timeline kind of clashes uncomfortably with Inferno. Which makes me think it was wedged in there to ride the Wandavision train and undo the retcon on the side of the main storyline.
Thank you for reading my essay/rant
Ok so I'm going to first say you have a lot of great thoughts and great on picking up the whole forced feeling. You are right, it does feel wedged in there and it does feel forced because that's exactly what Marvel did.
The Trial of Magneto was supposed to be an X-Factor plot, it was Leah Williams next arc, here's an article link talking about her podcast: link (yes I know it's bleeding cool but I don't have time to listen to the podcast)
Leah Williams tells us that X-Factor was canceled because Leah's pitch for the Magneto/Wanda story for X-Factor, now called Trial Of Magneto, became such a popular pitch at Marvel but they thought the reader numbers for X-Factor wasn't big enough for this story, so they wanted it as a separate comic. And canceled X-Factor #10 rather than seeing it run as originally planned, with the Trial beginning in X-Factor #15. Williams says she only learned about the cancellation of X-Factor when she was writing #9, so as she had to finish the series quickly, squeezing six issues worth of story into those last two issues, calling it "cramped and rushed".
So I'm not a fan of Leah but the way Marvel treats it's writers has always been terrible so this cancellation doesn't surprise me. Could this be about W*ndaVision? It's likely, but it's more likely this has to do with Hickman bowing out. It's no secret literally everyone hated the retcon and I always knew it would be undone but I didn't think it would take 6 years but here we are.
Hickman leaving is a bigger thing, he stated in an interview ( link ) that he had planned Krakoa and X-Men to be a 3 arc story, and he wasn't allowed to move onto the 2nd arc because the clowns at Marvel liked the idea of Krakoa too much and I'm so mad because that's exactly the kinda behavior that annoys me with the fans, them thinking Krakoa is just a fun playground for the mutants to mess around with.
"Oh, plans have changed entirely," Hickman says. "When I pitched the X-Men story I wanted to do, I pitched a very big, very broad, three-act, three-event narrative, the first of which was House of X. And while this loosely worked as a three-year plan, I told Marvel upfront that I honestly had no idea how long the first part would last because there were a lot of interesting ideas that I had seeded that other creators would want to play with, and so, we left this rather open-ended. I was also pretty clear with all the writers that came into the office what the initial, three-act plan was so no one would be surprised when it was time for the line to pivot." Hickman continues, "However, I also knew that I was cooking with dynamite, and it was very possible that what I had written in House of X, and the ideas contained within, was not actually the first act of a three-act story, but something that resonated more deeply and worked more like Giant-Size X-Men, where it would represent a paradigm shift in the entire X-Men line for a prolonged period of time. So, during the pandemic, when the time came for me to start pointing things toward writing the second-act event, I asked everyone if they were ready for me to do that, and to a man, everyone wanted to stay in the first act. It was really interesting, because I appreciated that House of X resonated with them to the extent that they didn't want it to end, but the reality was that I knew I would be leaving the line early."
I'm so MAD because the thing I was predicting, that Hickman would have it come crashing down and everything would be revealed to be terrible and Mutant Death Sex Cult Island wasn't a paradise is never going to happen because the fucking CLOWNS at Marvel don't want him to move past it. I may have my personal gripes about some of Hickman's writing but we can't deny the man wrote one of the best if only the best Marvel Event with Fantastic Four/Avengers/Secret War.
As for the simpler times comment, like I have my theories that I wrote out here, and that's what I think is most likely but I do think Pietro's life has never been easy or simple once his adoptive parents died. Pietro could be drinking to a time before the Brotherhood.
I would love for a Jewish actor to play Magneto and any other characters who are Jewish. I would love for a Jewish writer to be able to write them too. However Ian's performance literally set him in the minds of the people as Magneto, not even Fassbender's bleh one note Magneto could compare. Imo the only reason people liked the younger Magneto was because he was young, handsome (? ig idk i dont simp for him) and they could ship him with young professor X (cowards. where is the old man ship???) But I feel like a new actor could definitely fill the role if they are Jewish and the writing was good.
Magneto's writing in comics... well I just wish we could have a Jewish writer for him. There's some great stuff for him but I feel like characters like him and Doom could be written better by non white/american writers.
Although by today's standards the og X-Men trilogy doesn't hold up I will defend the first two movies with my life simply because after Blade these movies opened up the idea that a good serious, non campy version where characters called Magneto and Cyclops were taken seriously. X2 in my mind was the definitive X-Men movie. Was it totally comic accurate? No, but it doesn't do what the MCU does, it doesn't treat the watcher like they need to have their hand held through all the military propaganda and "hints to the comics". Also side note; the reason no one cared about any of the other X-Men being recast is because all through most of the X-Men movies the focal story point has been Professor X vs Magneto. If they really want people to care about those characters/actors then we would need stories that focused on them. Not like how Storm barely had any character growth or plot in the og X-Men and even young Ororo got mishandled by the script. This is why I feel we should have "origin movies" for the X-Men that don't do what Wolverine Origins did and try to make a whole new cast but instead should use the stories as they are. If it was Kurt's story then we would see him join the X-Men, and have the other actors revolve around that. Same with each of the others, the X-Men work best when they are working off each other and each given enough screen/page time to shine. Unfortunately we all have our favorites, even movies and writers, so those are who are going to be pushed for fans to love.
Thank you for your long rant and sorry for my own long rant/reply.
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deewithani · 3 years
Text
A clone’s first day at Coruscant prison
Clone Trooper Toast Series Volume 1
Pairing: Clone Trooper Toast x GN!Reader
Word count: 2,336
T/W: Hazing
Rating: G
A/N: I couldn’t help but go serious with this. It was started out as a drabble, but quickly gained its own life and I couldn’t stop. Toast clone is love. Toast clone is life. Toast clone deserves happiness too. I might write another couple of fics to give him some. This is my first fic ever, no beta. If we die, we die.
Tags: @royalhandmaidens as requested.
If you sat Toast down and asked him what his favorite food in the galaxy was, he would tell you it was toast. It was true, and his love for toast begat the name that he was given. He didn’t know exactly what it was about toast that made it his favorite food. It tasted good, sure, much better than the rations that were more commonly served to clones no longer in training (or so he had heard, he was fresh out of training himself), and definitely better than what they served to cadets to ensure their nutritional needs were met, but not exceeded, at the bare minimum of cost. You could put different toppings and spreads on it, giving you a new breakfast every day if you wanted. And it was cheap, so the Republic had no issue serving it to Clones as an “option”, sitting in the breakfast lineup on a tray, next to a small basket filled with small packets of butter and jogan fruit jam. He came to the mess at the same time every day, just so he could have some toast, because breakfast was his favorite part of every day. No, he wasn’t sure what it was about toast itself that made him like it best, but he knew it was his favorite food the first time he had breakfast at the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center.
You thought back to the first time you ever met Toast, the very first day he came to the prison, and the first time you ever saw “First Breakfast”. He arrived early that morning directly from Kamino with many of his other brothers, fresh faced and ready to make a difference in the war. To do a good job. To be a good soldier. To be a good brother. He had high hopes for this posting, and high expectations for himself, and he was prepared to do his duty to serve the Republic and its people. You thought back to that day with happiness. It was the day you met the most wonderful person in the galaxy.
On that very first day on duty he was cornered by a small group of more experienced troopers who were tasked with showing him around and getting him acquainted with his job and the brothers he would be working with. One of the most well known first day rituals the the boys participated in was known as the “First Breakfast”. It was a time where the more experienced clones would welcome their new brothers, in their own special way. The First Breakfast was a tradition, and every clone that worked at the prison had participated in it. Toast’s participation in the First Breakfast was required before he set foot on the floor, whether he knew it or not.
“C’mon vod” the leader of the group, Ether, had said. “Let’s head to the mess to grab some grub before shift change.” Toast spent the short walk answering questions, “How are the cadets on Kamino doing?”, “What do you think of Coruscant?”, “Do you know any girls?”, “Did you chose a name yet?”. He didn’t really know how to answer those questions, he never really thought about his own feelings about his life, but he answered them as best he could. The cadets were doing as well as any other clone had done on Kamino. Coruscant was different than Kamino, but he had never been any other place to make a fair comparison. Of course he didn’t know any girls, there were none aside from the Kaminoans and the Jedi Shaak Ti at the training center. And no, he didn’t have a name, he just didn’t stand out from his brothers enough to warrant a name, either from his vod or from his own heart.
When they finally reached the mess, Ether put an arm around Toast and gave him a rough side hug. “Alright vod. This is the staff mess. There’s mostly clones here, but there is some natborn staff, so don’t be surprised if you see a face that doesn’t look like your own in the mess every now and then. Now, the menu changes, and you know as well as the rest of us that some food just isn’t edible, so let me guide you through what’s good, and what’s not.” As he walked down the line he pointed out exotic dishes, to Toast’s palette anyway.
You sat alone in the corner of the mess, reading the day’s news on your holopad, unaware of the shiny new trooper that Ether’s crew just brought through the door. Ether lifted his voice, pulling your attention to the group, where he had his arm around the shoulders of the timid looking clone. You had heard that Ether liked to put new troopers under his wing, at least long enough to play a mean spirited prank on them, but the clones had always been tight lipped, and you had never seen or heard any solid proof it. Until today. Today, it looked like you might get a glimpse inside the world of a new clone at the Coruscant prison.
You watched as Ether pointed out various foods to the new trooper, shaking his head yes and no at various times, presumably to indicate which choices were better than others. It should seem obvious which were best; some dishes were barely touched, while others were attacked as if they were set out for a pack of loth-wolves. It didn’t take a scientist to know that clones had a liking for the spicy pepper hash that was a staple in the mess, and tended to stay away from the blue hued yogurt. You suspected that Ether was telling him the same.
First Breakfast always –always – included the spicy pepper hash. Every new trooper had to try it, even though all the others knew it was spicier than the lava of Mustafar. Ether knew First Breakfast was a mean prank. New clone trooper, fresh from Kamino? He’s never had anything spicier than some salt and pepper added to the “grey fluff” they called food on Kamino. The long necks probably didn’t even know what a pepper was, if he was being honest with himself. But he had seen more than one new shiny come through those prison doors and fall in love with the spicy pepper hash. They just needed to jump in feet first. Try it, burn up your taste buds, have a good laugh with your brothers, and tada, you’re part of the group! Every single clone here went through it, and it was obvious that almost all of them had a taste for the peppers. Besides, even if he didn’t like it, it was a bonding experience, and there were other things he could eat after today. He wouldn’t be the only clone that would pass on the hash after the First Breakfast, and no one held it against any of the others.
You watched as Ether filled the young clone’s plate with spicy pepper hash, telling him it was the most popular dish at the prison. He didn’t lie, exactly. It was. Loved by both clone troopers and prisoners, the hash was easily mass produced, cheap, and came frozen, allowing it to be safely stored for long periods. It was perfect for the prison, and the workers and inhabitants it contained.  He just left out the ‘it’s so spicy it will make you cry’ part. The new trooper didn’t even know what spicy was, let alone that it caused physical pain, but Ether and the other clones did, and you did too. Unfortunately for the young shiny, you didn’t know that he never eaten anything spicy before. The clone troopers seemed to love it, so why would you think the new guy would be any different.
Ether and his buddies led Toast to a table, in his hands his full plate and a small glass of water. The others had also chosen the spicy pepper hash, but had chosen to drink blue milk instead. “Kriff”, you thought to yourself, “that hash is really spicy. The other troopers are drinking blue milk, but he’s only got a glass of water. He doesn’t know what he’s in for”. You made the decision right then, if this is what Ether has in mind for his “prank”, you’ll have a glass of blue milk ready for what you felt was inevitable. If you were wrong, well, you would just have a glass of blue milk to drink for yourself. No harm, no foul, you could play it off as being thirsty and not bother the clones as they went about their business, but you wanted to be ready in any case. You didn’t like a bully, in any case, and if you had to take the new trooper the milk you could just play it off as just getting to know your new coworker, even if you didn’t work in the same area as he did.
You watched as the troopers started chowing down on their breakfasts, some eating slowly and savoring their meal, others shoveling it in as fast as they could. The new trooper dug in as well, but you noticed his face started turning red almost as soon as the hash hit is tongue. Most of the others with him had already started sipping on their milk, but the new clone was guzzling down his water before he ha d finished his first bite, coughing and trying to catch his breath as the strange food burned his mouth. You decided then that the prank had gone too far, and you got up to take the milk to the beleaguered clone.
“Here”, you told him. “Drink this. It will help take the spiciness away.” Toast, brow covered in sweat, eagerly took the milk from your hand and downed it in record time. “I’ll get you some more if you’d like.”, you said, and he vigorously nodded affirmingly. While you headed back to refill his milk, his brothers all gathered around him, patting him on the back jovially and welcoming him to the crew. On your way back to the table you noticed the small smile on his face, presumably for sufficiently passing the “test” and becoming one of the group. You still didn’t like Ether’s prank, but it did warm your heart to see the new trooper take it in stride, and his brothers gathering around to celebrate his official first day guarding the worst of the worst the galaxy had to offer.
While you were getting him a refill of milk you had an idea. Just because he had a bad experience with the spicy pepper hash didn’t mean that he couldn’t still have some breakfast. The problem was knowing what he liked. You had absolutely no idea. So you decided on the safe bet: toast. You grabbed a plate, a butter knife, and a fork, a couple of pieces of toast, and one pack each of butter and jogan fruit jam. Returning to the table you sat down at the seat opposite of Toast, placing the glass of milk and the plate in front of him, silently smacking yourself in the head when you noticed you added an unnecessary fork to the mix. Thoughts of how he would think you were an absolute idiot ran through your mind, but he looked up at you and smiled, graciously accepting the milk and toast.
He looked at the plate quizzically, before asking “What is this?” You were sure that he wouldn’t trust anything anyone else brought him after the fiery start to his first day, but he listened intently as you explained the different items you had placed on the plate. You told him the toast was an easy to eat food, not spicy and well tolerated by most people, and the butter and jam were used as spreads for the top. You thought he may like it more than the hash, so you brought it to him to try.
He seemed to accept your explanation, and after showing him how to add the butter and jam to toast you watched him take a bite. He chewed for a moment before his eyes went wide and a big smile split his face. Swallowing, he took a sip of milk, then looked back to you and exclaimed that it was the best thing that he had ever eaten in his life. At least, it was the best thing he had eaten up to that point.
“Well then, toast-boy, I’m glad there’s food here that you can enjoy. It’s my favorite food in the mess, I don’t really trust anything else, honestly.” You sat together at the table for a few minutes, asking each other questions and learning about your new friend. As the clock moved closer to the official start of your own day, you moved to wrap up your conversation, and you steered in the direction of your names. After you had officially introduced yourself, he looked at you sadly. He had never had a problem with not having a name before, but now he had to give you his designation, which felt inadequate, but he gave you what he had and explained that he hadn’t chosen a name for himself, and no one had given him a name either.
He didn’t have a name? How odd. Although you rarely worked with the clones directly every one you met had a name of some sort. Was it normal not to have a name? You didn’t know, but kind eyed clone gave you as much as he had. He was nice, and was good conversation, so you hoped that you would see him again.
“Listen, next time I see you, how about I call you Toast instead of those numbers? It would be easier for me to remember”.
“Yeah, I’d like that. ‘Toast’. Thanks for the name!”
You saw him in the mess every morning for breakfast from that day on.
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