#I've heard about some messed up takes from that side of the fandom but i swear that i have lost braincells by reading that

[tommy-kinard-buckley]

Y'all I have been tolerant of the ship war BS since it started but I really feel the need to address the worst part from a buddie fan I have seen so far

I'm sorry but how are we experiencing mass hallucinations when we aren't even saying anything that you're quoting 'from us' (at least not that I've seen anyways) and also please tell me how fighting a fire for 10+hours but not going to the station to change and rest (which would've been logical of him) and instead going to your friends hospital wedding because his boyfriend had invited him is minimal effort? Oh I'm sorry I forgot, that part of the episode apparently never happened. Also I'm sorry to inform you but a lot of the things that I've seen buddie stans (the fans aren't all bad it's just the hard core ones) make up is no where near what is in the show. Also as he has explained in the episode, he just didn't want to pressure Buck into something like stepping out of the closet when he wasn't ready. And the rest of that post had fried my brain with their mental gymnastics

As for this the only thing that I can say because again the mental gymnastics has fried my brain is that Buck was SMILING after the comment. Also he literally started it.

[ddejavvu]

Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Two) (18+) / Part One

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 5.3K / navigation / inbox

A/N: if you've been on my blog anytime since last year and you've heard me mention 'my big hangman fic', this is it! I've been working on Spring Fling for almost a year now, and I'm so excited to share it with you. I hope you enjoy this, and I'm glad so many new people are making their way into our top gun fandom because of twisters and Glen's role in it. Welcome, and enjoy!

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

An uncomfortable nap taken out of sheer spite does nothing to improve your mood. Your neck is stiff now, as is your spine, and it pops when you stretch from your place on the tiny loveseat.

“Well, Sleeping Beauty has risen,” Jake grins, the cocky expression boiling your blood, “Ready for dinner, sunshine?”

“I’m going to push you off of this boat.” You grumble, and Jake blinks, toning his smile down into a grimace.

“Well, maybe some food’ll improve your mood.” Jake rises from where he’d been presumably sleeping as well, though you’re surprised he fell asleep after you and woke up before you. His bedhead gives him away, and he runs his fingers through it, “We’ve got a table reserved in the restaurant for 6, darlin’. We should get there a little early, though, wanna head out now?”

Your nose wrinkles involuntarily, though you wouldn’t have stopped it, “You reserved us a table? I’m not eating with you.”

“We eat together all the time,” He scoffs, “Come on, Y/L/N, this is no different from eating in the mess hall.”

“It’s different because everyone who sees us is either going to think we just had sex, or that we’re about to,” You protest, but he’s out of sympathy to feign.

“Or both,” He grins, running a hand once more through his slightly less messy hair. He’s still barely dressed, and it takes effort for your eyes not to naturally drift away from his face. 

“You’re usually wearing a uniform when we eat in the mess hall, Hangman,” You narrow your eyes at him, glancing pointedly below his neck to his bare chest, but straying no further, “Unless they’ve hired you to be a stripper on board, and I’m just now finding out?”

“Nah, I auditioned but they said I was too good,” He crosses his bulging biceps over his chest, a haughty smirk on his face, “I didn’t wanna steal any tips from the ladies.”

“Right,” You drawl, aiming to move past him to reach your suitcase that’s been mysteriously moved from beside your head to the side of the bed opposite from where Jake had been sleeping. Except, the man blocking your path doesn’t move, and you’re stuck in the small hallway-like space that the loveseat is squished into.

“Hangman,” Your teeth are gritted, and they warp your words slightly, “Move. I need my suitcase, I’m going to change for dinner.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with your dress,” He eyes the fabric with feigned consideration, “Except of course that it’s a little long. It only needs to go up to about here,” He snakes a hand towards your waist, laying two hefty smacks against the skin on your hip that lines up just beneath the curve of your ass. He moves faster than you can back away, but you land a valiant smack against his hand when he withdraws it, “Then you could join my stripping act.”

“Hangman, if you touch me again, I’ll rip off your balls,” You swear, but there’s still a glint of mischief far too bright in his eyes for your liking, so you shove past him, making sure to tap your knuckles gently between his legs for good measure.

He groans, hunching over and breathing heavily, “Shit, Y/L/N, you trying to take out the Seresin line?”

“It’s not that bad,” You drawl, setting your suitcase on the bed and delving into its contents, “But a world where you can’t reproduce sounds like one I want to live in.”

You’re already halfway to the bathroom, your evening dress in hand when he calls back, “You act all high and mighty now,” You can hear the grin that Jake’s voice indicates, even if he’s rummaging through his own suitcase for something to wear, “But later tonight I’m gonna have you beggin’ for me to knock you up, darlin’.”

Jake’s efforts to break into the bathroom you’re changing in are certainly impressive, if nothing else. He tries the knob at first, like you’d have forgotten to turn the lock before stripping naked. When you demand a reason he claims he’d forgotten his deodorant, which is a perfect excuse seeing as you miss no chances to point out his sweat-stench after training.

You spot the stick on the counter and give yourself the satisfaction of rolling your eyes, even if he’s not present to see it.

The second time he knocks, having learned his lesson, “Y/N, I need to pee.”

“I’m changing!” You cry, the straps on your dress proving impossible to untangle. Apparently being jostled in a suitcase wasn’t ideal for the dress’s shape.

“Changing what, seasons? By the time you get dressed our leave will be over, and you’re gonna have to get back into uniform.”

“If you’re so anxious to get to dinner, go by yourself!” You insist, frustration laced tight to your tone, “I’ll figure this fucking dress out, enjoy a leisurely meal, and then I’ll meet up with Daniel afterwards!”

You’re so used to Jake’s rapidfire quips that the silence ensuing after your declaration feels awkward. But it’s a victory, one that you don’t often win against the man outside the bathroom door, and you let it ease the sharp sting of annoyance that your dress is needling into you.

A fist lands heavy against the door, and Jake’s voice is unusually devoid of mirth, “Open up.”

“Jake, no!” You spit out his first name like a hex, “I fucking told you-”

“I’m going to help you,” He calls through the door, knocking incessantly, “Come on, you said you can’t figure out your dress, I’ll help you.”

“Nice try!” You scoff, finally pulling at the correct string and watching as the others fall into precarious place around them. You jab your arm into the hole it’s created and slip the rest of them into formation, standing triumphant in front of the mirror and realizing you look quite like you’ve had sex after all.

You smooth down a few flyaway hairs, grab Jake’s deodorant, and fling the door open, just as Jake flattens his hand to slam his palm into the wood, no doubt trying to make more noise than a simple knock.

You’re looking at his face, and he’s looking at yours, but both of you can feel his hand pressed firmly into your tit. You don’t doubt that he’d intended to hit the door instead of you, but he’s not moving away, either. You both stand paralyzed until his brain catches up with his body and he jerks his hand away, lashes fluttering as he blinks bewilderedly despite the wry grin purposefully etched into his features in an attempt to remain nonchalant.

“Didn’t mean to do that,” He simpers, and you’re certain that’s the closest to ‘I’m sorry’ he’s ever given you. You know him well enough to know he’s adequately flustered, but outsiders might not catch the barely-there pink tinge to his tan cheeks, too distracted by his charming smile.

You overlook the accident if only to save yourself the awkward confrontation, ducking your head and shoving the deodorant stick against his chest. His hands come up to catch it and you make a break for the heels you’d set out by the closet, intent on strapping them on instead of talking to him.

He mumbles a distracted, ‘Thanks,’ when you hand him his deodorant, but the stick remains firmly capped in his hands as his gaze trails after you.

“Your dress looks nice.” He concludes, voice a tone softer than it normally is. It’s- nice. You’re too used to the bite of his southern drawl, the way he pairs a cocky quip with an eye-roll more vicious than even the most belligerent teenager. Now they’re soft and gooey-brown as he stares at the straps on your shoulders. This isn’t the first kind thing he’s ever said to you, but it’s certainly the first in a long time, and you swallow the urge to use it against him.

“Thank you.” You grumble, then, to steer away from the thick silence you’ve been enveloped in, “Not sure it’s worth it, though, those straps were fucking confusing.”

You swear you hear a mumbled, ‘It was,’, but Jake’s back is turned to you as he sets his still-capped deodorant on the bathroom counter, so you can’t be sure.

You’re surprised to find that the elevator is just as empty as you’d left it when you and Jake board to head to the 9th floor. The restaurant Jake had reserved your table at is upscale, and you presume everyone else is too busy boning to manage a sit-down meal. You settle against the back wall of the elevator in silence, looking but not watching as Jake presses the 9 button with a thick finger.

The last time you were in this elevator, Daniel was backing you up against the railing and kissing you.

Just the thought brings heat to your cheeks, and you’re thankful for the support that the wall behind you offers. If it wasn’t there, you’re not sure your weak knees would withstand the crushing weight of your weighty crush.

“Was that where he sucked your face?” Jake’s voice shatters your reverie into a million tiny, unsalvageable pieces, and you forget any momentary truce that you might have had with him only moments ago.

“Excuse me?” You level a glare at the man across from you, unimpressed with his accusation even though it was accurate, “He did not suck my face. He kissed me like a gentleman.”

Jake lets out a bark of laughter, “Right. Because gentlemen smear a woman’s lipstick halfway over her chin.”

Despite knowing you’d have seen any makeup smudges when you’d been in the bathroom earlier, your hand darts to your chin.

Jake takes it as an admission of guilt, and his sharp grin only grows, “Exactly. I’ve sucked faces before, I know what the result is.”

A rather unsavory memory assaults you of Jake crowding a vacationing New Yorker up against a wall of the Hard Deck. You push away the nauseating burning in your chest at the image, intent on never seeing Jake Seresin’s tongue inside of anyone’s mouth but his own again.

“You suck faces,” You conclude, still slightly bothered by what you’d recalled, “Daniel kisses.”

“Daniel,” Jake snorts, grasping for something to tease, “That’s not a very moan-able name, is it?”

“Neither is Jake,” You retort, “Jake sounds like a toddler running loose at the mall.”

“That’s why the ladies call me Hangman,” Jake grins, his eyes narrowed in an attempt at a smirk, “Well, some of ‘em call me Hungman by the end of the night.”

“Oh,” Your face twists into a grimace, and you’re thankful for the dinging of the elevator, “You’re not allowed to talk at dinner.”

“Only way you’ll get me to shut up is if you gag me, darlin’.” Jake laughs, stepping out of the elevator and following behind you even as you storm ahead towards the entrance to the dining room.

It’s an opulent room, chandeliers and crystal adorning every surface. You slow your pace before you reach the reception desk, so that the poor employee doesn’t think you’re going to vault over the counter and attack him, but you’re fairly certain there’s still a scowl on your face when you attempt to speak with him.

“We have a table reserved,” You inform the man, conscious of Jake’s impressive build lingering behind you, present and firm, “Room 838?”

With a quick few buttons pressed on the screen before him, the host nods, customer service smile on full force as he gestures to his left, “Of course, right this way.”

You let him lead, and you try not to get distracted by the grandiose decor. Whether it’s authentic material, or just plastic spray-painted gold, it’s beautiful, and you’re so absent-minded that you don’t acknowledge your table until you’re stopped in front of it.

“Here you are; have a lovely meal.” The man politely excuses himself, heading back to the front to greet whoever else is waiting to be checked in for their tables.

You’d been too overwhelmed by finding out that your hot sexy mystery man was actually your brutally combative fellow pilot to think about what dinner would entail beyond heated bickering. He’d drawn a comparison to the mess hall and your brain had run with it, but this is decidedly different from the drab benches you’re used to.

This is a small, delicate, round table, a white tablecloth draped elegantly overtop. It’s two candles, giving off a small aura of warm light around the dim restaurant, crystalline dishes framed with polished silverware. It’s an enclosed space, it’s knees brushing and eyes twinkling with candlelight, it’s electric shocks when skin meets skin. It’s romantic by design, and you refuse to share it with Hangman.

But you can’t refuse.

The waitstaff is limited and overworked, evidenced by the mountain of covered trays you see them rushing to different tables. It would be rude to storm out, and while you’re not worried about offending Jake, you don’t want to inconvenience the staff.

Jake sniffs out your internal conflict by only a glance at your stiff stance, a skill he’s acquired after years of working out the perfect way to get under your skin. He can read you like a book, and he knows fury and guilt are waging war in your head right now.

You’d like to think he thought fury would win, but it’s guilt in the end. You step towards your chair, reaching out with two fingers to pinch the candle on your side of the table. The flame snuffs out beneath your touch, and the mild burning sensation is worth it to hear Jake scoff.

“Nicely done, killer,” He drawls, sounding offensively unperturbed by your obvious dislike of him. To your complete and utter indignance he reaches behind your back to pull the chair out from it’s seat, offering it to you as a peace treaty.

You are not a peaceful person, not when it comes to Hangman.

You take the opposite seat, maintaining sharp eye contact with Jake as you sit down. He inhales, and you take satisfaction in the puff of his chest, a telltale sign that he’s beginning to get aggravated. He lowers himself into his own seat, but notices the way your hand darts for the one candle that’s still lit, and he snatches it out of your way before you can snuff it out. It causes the silverware on the table to rattle, and you and Jake are required to send placatingly charming smiles to the people at nearby tables who turned at the commotion.

He turns that once-dazzling grin on you like a weapon as he relights the blackened wick of the candle you’d pinched, letting it burn once more to illuminate his features.

You don’t waste a second in snuffing it out again, “The point was so that I didn’t have to see your ugly face.”

“You are the most charming dinner guest I’ve ever had the pleasure of dining with,” Jake croons, unflappable as ever, “Put your napkin on your lap, Y/N, it’ll keep your dress dry when you’re drooling over me.”

You take ash-stained fingers and leave streaky, dark prints on the white cloth napkin, draping it over your lap and folding your hands neatly over it.

“Careful, Hangman,” You warn, your voice low and your face deceptively cheery as you nod kindly at a passing waiter, “They gave me two different knives to stab you with.”

“God, why are you so pissy?” He asks, and for a moment, you don’t know the answer. It catches you off guard, and that’s never supposed to happen, not around Hangman. He speaks again before you have the chance to respond- typical.

“So, we ended up on the same sex boat. Whatever, Y/L/N, shit happens.” His jaw is tense, fraught with annoyance while his eyes blaze like the jet engines he’s so used to gunning, “I’m just teasing, y’know. You know me, I’m not a monster, I’m not going to force you to have sex with me. If you don’t want to, then we won’t, and that’s that. You don’t have to keep snapping at me, I won’t bite you.”

It’s possibly the most heartfelt, sincere thing that Hangman has ever said to you, albeit in exasperation, and you’re not sure you’re comfortable with that. Your rapport with the man has always been full of quips and jabs, nothing like what he’s just unleashed. You’d known he must have had a soft side, but you thought perhaps he’d left it back in Texas, because this is something new. You see a waiter approaching from behind Jake and smile politely at them, clueing your dinner date in to their appearance.

“Unless you want me to,” Jake adds with an insufferable wink, using the last few seconds that you’re able to speak freely to tease you. 

“Welcome,” The waiter smiles, once more with that impeccably tuned customer service politeness as he hands a wine list to Jake, “What can I get started for you this evening?”

As much as you hate to admit it, Jake’s teasing quip is familiar, a well-worn blanket you find comfort shrouding yourself in, and it breaks the awkward tension that had arisen when Hangman had spoken so sincerely towards you.

You don’t dare let a smile grace your features, but one tries; instead you settle for a kick to his shin beneath the elegant white tablecloth.

“We’ll have- mm! The- uh, the…” Jake trails off, eyes roving down the selection and realizing too late that he’s more attuned to cheap liquor in a beachside bar than he is to elegant pairings of food and wine. He recovers quickly, that special brand of Seresin charm, grinning across the table at you, “Actually, we’d like it if you surprised us. Money’s no object,” He throws in a grotesquely over-the-top wink, “Just make it special for my roommate here.”

Your teeth ache as you grind them together in a smile, and you swear you can feel your right eye begging to twitch, “How considerate of you, Jake.”

“Anything for you, dear,” He replies easily, accepting two dinner menus from the waiter and thanking him. You maintain the common courtesy of waiting until the poor man is out of earshot before tearing into Jake, and he’s lucky he’s got both of the menus still in his hands, or you’d smack him upside the head with one.

“I’m not paying out of my ass to get drunk at a candlelight dinner with you.” You hiss, courteous of the other patrons, but barely able to contain yourself.

“No, you’re not.” He agrees, blinking like he’s not sure why you’re close to shouting, “I am.”

“That’s- ooh!” You fume, eyes clamped shut and jaw so tight it hurts. You take a second to breathe, “Hangman, you know damn well I don’t like owing you money.”

You have a very strict no-loans policy, though it only applies to yourself. You have no problem spotting Natasha for a few drinks, or treating Javy to animal fries at In-N-Out, but you’d rather die than let someone use their dollar for your snack at a vending machine. Feeling like you owe something makes your skin crawl, and it’s something your friends have all had to accept. All, of course, except for Hangman, who seems to delight in making your skin crawl.

“You don’t owe me money,” He laughs, taking a sip of the glass of ice water that had been waiting at his place on the table, “And you don’t owe me anything else either, darlin’. I’m paying for the wine.”

“Then I’m not drinking it,” You decide, still caught in your blustering fury, “I’m too tired to deal with your bullshit - you can mill around the ship and beg some poor woman to drink with you, and I’ll go back to our cabin and sleep.”

You wish that the man across from you wasn’t so adept at setting your nerves on fire. You chalk it up to years and years of flying together, at each other’s throats despite being on the same team, but Jake really is able to infuriate you with something as simple as a grin. The way that hollow manipulation glazes over his eyes each time he doles out a charming smile makes your chest burn, and you wish you could get a handle on your frustration. It’s embarrassing, really, that he knows how to pick you apart and induce insanity; you wish you improved at resisting him through practice, but that’s not how it works. It only gets worse, worse and worse and worse until you’re sitting across from him at a candlelit table, yearning to whack him over the head with a black-foldered menu.

“Fine,” Jake snorts, setting the glass down in the wet indent it had made on the tablecloth before, condensation beading at its base, “You don’t have to have any. But you have to take me back to our room - if I get wine drunk, you’ll have to stop me from kissing everyone.”

The startling admission does exactly what Jake intended it to, and you’re caught off guard, the rapidly ticking bomb of frustration inside your chest temporarily disarmed. 

“You’re a drunk kisser?”

“A winedrunk kisser, yes ma’am,” Jake nods, the ammunition he supplies you with a far cry from his typically competitive nature, “First and only time I’ve ever had wine was at my sister’s wedding a few years back.” He reminisces, still holding tight to both menus as candlelight flickers on his tanned face, “She wasn’t necessarily thrilled that I started kissin’ on the groom, but I looked good in the veil when the photographer came around.”

He’s good-natured about the snort you let out in response, and finally he offers the menu to you like an olive branch, “You gonna whack me with this thing?”

“How’d you know I wanted to?” You arch an eyebrow, taking the menu from him. Prices aren’t listed - the cost of your meals was included with the boarding pass, but extras like drinks are something you’ll need to pay a tab on later. Nevertheless, the food looks to be worth your money.

“You get this look in your eye when you’re feelin’ feisty,” Jake notes, taking a look at his own menu, “Your jaw gets all tight, and I start gettin’ the urge to cover my crotch.”

Today was not the first time you’ve ever whacked him in the balls; evidently he does learn, even if he chooses not to apply that knowledge.

You neglect to respond, no longer irritated enough to tell Jake that he’s deserved every hit he’s taken from you, but never vulnerable enough to apologize. Instead you bury yourself in the menu, appreciating the array of cuisine that you’re not often treated to on a naval base. 

Jake lets you remain silent until the waiter comes back with the wine that he’d ordered, and you nod in thanks with a poorly-concealed clenched jaw to the man when he pours you a glass.

“That looks wonderful, thank you,” Jake gushes, eyes slightly narrowed as he raises his glass to his nose, inhaling the aroma wafting from the wine that he swirls gently, “Smell that, darlin’, ain’t it good?”

You reach for your portion with tense fingers that nearly shatter the stem of the glass as they wrap around it. The scent of the wine is oh-so-tempting; surely Jake’s objective for getting you to smell it was to wear you down into tasting it.

You won’t give in.

“Smells fantastic,” You concede, and if the waiter’s realized he’s in the lion’s den, pinned between two aggressors ready to rip into each other’s throats once more, he doesn’t show it. He merely bows, stepping away again and leaving the bottle on your table.

“That’s good,” Jake muses nonchalantly after a sip, glancing down at the menu in his lap as if you’ll believe he’s perusing it instead of plotting a way to make you explode at the table. 

“Well I’m glad you like it, because you’ve got a whole bottle to finish,” You snipe, “I’m not a toddler, Jake, you can’t trick me into eating my broccoli by pretending it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

“Who said anything about tricking you?” He leans back in his chair, wine set back on the table, “Y/N, I can enjoy a nice glass of wine without it being about you, thank you very much. Believe it or not, the world doesn’t revolve around you, and you’re not the only thing I think about.”

You’re more than used to Jake’s accusations of your egocentrism, not because it’s true, but because it’s what he defaults to whenever he can’t think of a response, but is too stubborn to let the issue go. They don’t worry you anymore like they used to, but they do irritate you, and you’re glad for the deep, smooth voice that calls your name from your left to distract you from Jake’s insults.

You know it before you turn; Daniel is there with his roommate. She’s gorgeous, her dark hair intricately braided and styled, a compliment to her skin that’s only a shade lighter, and you’re only slightly jealous of the way his arm is draped around her middle. You quell it by reminding yourself that you’d frenched him in an elevator only hours after meeting him, and this is a cruise meant for casual sex.

Perhaps your voice is a notch too sincere when you greet him, “Daniel.”

You miss it, your attention fixed on the couple approaching your table, but a muscle jumps in Jake’s jaw as it tightens. 

“Well, I guess you’re all some people think about,” Jake drawls, his grin now wolfish and lethal, and while your voice was slightly too kind, his voice is slightly the opposite, scathing in a way, “So you’re- uh, Elevator Boy?”

Daniel’s slight smirk is bashful where he bites the inside of his cheek and nods, “I guess that’s accurate. I- uh, I hope you don’t mind.”

“He doesn’t,” You reply before Jake can conjure up any more misplaced snark, “We’re not hooking up.”

Daniel’s brows furrow for only a split second, a confused reaction he hadn’t been able to politely mask in time. His roommate glances back at Jake, and the knit of her brow is less fleeting; clearly she’s thinking you’re out of your mind for not fucking him.

“Random roommates don’t always work out, I guess,” Daniel smooths over the awkward silence that’s befallen your table, and you want to kiss him for it. Well, you want to kiss him regardless, but now you’re positively fiending for a repeat of earlier.

“He’s my coworker,” You explain, “We really can’t.”

“Oh!” He laughs, and his roommate seems equally amused by your poor fortune, “That’s crazy, and- there’s no changing roommates, is there?”

“She’s stuck with me,” Jake continues aiming that deadly grin towards Daniel, and you’re surprised he hasn’t caught on fire yet. 

“Well, if you ever want to switch for a night,” Daniel squeezes his roommate’s side, his fingers ghosting over her exposed skin in the cutout dress she’s sporting, “I’m not an idiot; Danica’s ogling you.”

You marvel at the friendly banter they share after only a few hours of knowing each other, but Daniel seems fantastic to get along with. Danica laughs at his teasing and manages to look barely bashful when she nods at you, “I wasn’t gonna say anything when I thought you two were enjoying yourselves, but I’d be happy to step in if you wanna get lucky for a night.” 

“That sounds great,” You jump at the offer, but Jake speaks at the same time, voice a hair louder than your own.

“We’re not interested.” He dismisses Danica’s offer but he looks at Daniel to do it, something dangerous gleaming in his eyes that you’re only used to seeing on the tarmac.

A laugh escapes your throat, horridly disguised as something casual and not your breaking point, “Oh, we aren’t interested? I am.”

Jake blinks, shifting his sharp gaze towards you, “No switching rooms, Y/N.”

“That’s for official placements,” You sit up straighter in your chair, turned fully towards Jake now instead of angled towards Daniel, “But they’re not gonna come check on us at two in the morning to make sure we’re all in our bunks. We can swap for a night.”

“I don’t know why you’re fighting so hard for a night in his bed, the elevator seemed to work just fine. Maybe Danica and I can have a few drinks tonight, and you can slip off and defile floors 1-4.”

“That’s not-” You’re hot on Jake’s trail, intent on defending Daniel and pointing out the hypocrisy in Jake’s scathing statements, but a firm hand falls on your shoulder that silences you. Daniel’s grip is firm, but not painful, more grounding as his touch practically sucks the fire out of your veins and replaces it with calm.

“I think drinks after dinner are a great idea.” Daniel speaks coolly, with all the perfect composure you wish you had around Jake, instead of the barrel of gunfire perpetually smoldering inside of you.

“Me too,” You add, and one of Jake’s eyebrows ticks up.

“Really? I thought you said you were going to bed after this. Something about being too tired to deal with-”

“Your bullshit, Hangman.”

What you engage in next would preferably be described as a battle of wills, but to the outside eye, might look like a staring contest. It’s your vicious glare against Jake’s lazy grin, eyes alight with mischief as he does what he does best - piss you off.

“We’ll plan on drinks, then,” Danica breaks the ice, and you’re grateful for the tones of her sweet voice, “There’s a bar on the ninth deck, do you want to meet there?”

“That sounds great,” You hope she takes your kind smile for what it is; gratitude, “We’ll head there when we’re finished with our food.”

“Right,” Daniel nods, squeezing your shoulder and letting go, taking Danica by the waist once more to lead her to the table their water had pointed at, “See you then.”

Whatever farewell you murmur is lost in the general hubbub of the restaurant, something that you wish would happen to the grating tone of Jake’s drawl.

“So,” He muses, playing coy, but you won’t have it, “You’re not tired anymore?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you,” You steel yourself, inhaling and letting your chest puff with the breath, “But whatever you’re doing here; trying to ruin this for me just for shits and giggles - it’s gotta stop. I’ll leave you alone, and you can fuck as many people as you want on this ship, okay? You can have what you came here for, a week-long hookup, and all I’m asking in return is for one chance. I just want one. fucking. chance. to enjoy myself. Okay?”

His eyes cloud over throughout the duration of your speech, and it’s a look you’ve never seen on him before. It’s unsettling, like something’s dimming his spirit, though you can’t tell what. You’ve quipped back at him before, practically every time he’s ever teased you. But perhaps he’s just as unsettled with your newfound sincerity as you were with his, because his face settles into a hesitant expression. You press on.

“You told me earlier that you’re just teasing me, and that you’re not a monster. If that’s true, then leave me alone.”

He looks wounded only by a slight twitch of his eye; perhaps the prospect of being around you and not lunging teeth-bared at your throat is too much to bear. But he nods, slow and rickety like the joints in his neck protest the movement, “Fine. If that’s what you want, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Thank you.” You respond stiffly, glad for the menu in your lap as it provides an easy out for you; you’re not sure if you can stand looking him in the eyes. You’re afraid you’ll see disappointment there, perhaps real dislike, and you don’t want to find out that the only reason he speaks to you is to mess around with you. You’re content in feeling like you’re friends as well, and if he gives himself away now that you’ve asked him to ease up on the teasing, you’re not sure you’ll enjoy yourself at all on this vacation, no matter how much cheap, distracting sex you have. The truth of the matter is that you value the blossom of his friendship no matter how thorny it can be, and you’re not sure if he’s capable of playing nice without an occasional bite. 

You’re sure things will go back to normal on the weathered tarmac, but until then, bobbing along on ocean waves, you want Jake Seresin to be your friend, not your frenemy. If he’s incapable, you want no part of him.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[lefaystrent]

Friendly Neighborhood Criminals

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: platonic Patton/Dark Sides

Summary: Sweet, adorable, mild-tempered Patton who's just beginning to come out of his shell and learn that the world maybe does not in fact hate him for being born... has now been taken under the wings of some well-meaning criminals.

-------------------------------------------------------

Patton can't quite figure out how he ended up here.

Well, he knows he's in his apartment. He had saved up for months just to afford the deposit. And the landlord had been so sweet to take a chance on him with his credit, or lack thereof. Now he has a space of his own, a one bedroom with hardwood floors he can slip and slide on socked feet. He can go to the fridge when he wants and not be yelled at for eating the food or drinking the water.

And sometimes! Sometimes a black and white kitty cat roams the front steps. Patton's fairly certain it belongs to one of the neighbors, and she wears a collar. He's not supposed to pet cats because of his allergies, but he likes to let her rub her sides against his pants leg while he talks to her. It's nice because she doesn't tell him to shut up or tell him he's stupid or call him ungrateful.

This apartment is his new chance at life. A slice of freedom. And he's proud of it.

But then one night, three men break into his apartment. They probably think he isn't there because there is no vehicle parked in his one assigned spot. Owning a car seems light-years away in terms of money. It's not like he really needs one either! He has a bus pass and two legs to walk on!

Regardless, the three men break into his apartment, picking the locked front door, and they come in uninvited to see his apartment that he is very proud of.

His apartment that has no furniture.

"What the fuck?" Patton hears one of them say. As soon as he heard them picking the lock, he panicked and cowered behind the bedroom door. He huddles now on the other side, peeking out the crack and scared that closing it will make too much noise.

"Is this one empty?" another asks. They walk into the center of the small living area. It's an open space that melds into the kitchen, separated only by a short island counter.

"No, I've seen a guy coming in and out. Someone's been living here."

"Maybe they just moved out?"

"No, I just saw him earlier today. There haven't been any moving vans."

"Uh, bedroom then?"

"Oh God," Patton shudders in fright. He knows he's not supposed to think the worst in people, but these guys came in without permission with clearly bad intentions. What if they are looking for him? What if they want to hurt him? Or kidnap him? They had obviously been watching him for some time.

"Maybe. Let's check it out."

Terror slams into him. He throws himself away from the door and spins in the middle of the bedroom, searching for any place to hide. But there isn't one. There are no curtains, no bed to crawl under. There is a blanket on the floor with a pillow. He's been saving up for an air mattress as his next goal. He's been looking forward to sleeping on something somewhat soft.

The tiny closet has no room to hold him, and the window jams up nine times out of ten. They'll hear him if he attempts pushing the pane up and–

The door creaks as it sways open. Three men stare at a scattered-brain mess.

"Oh shit, he's here!"

"I thought you said he left!"

"I thought he did!"

Patton can't take it anymore. He throws up his hands and screams, "Please don't kill me! I can give you my wallet. There's not much in there, I'm sorry. Just please don't kill me!"

"Dude, is that where you sleep?" one of them gestures to the blanket pile on the floor.

Sniffling back tears, Patton responds, "Do you want my blankets? You can have them."

"Do you seriously live here, or are you squatting?" another says. He's wearing a hat. It's a very nice hat and Patton would tell him so if he wasn't about to pee his pants.

"I live here....it's my apartment."

"There's no shame if you're squatting. We won't tell anyone. Do what you gotta do."

A hysterical giggle tumbles out his lips. Patton shakes his head hard enough to give himself whiplash. "No, it's my place, I pay for it, I swear."

"You mean you live like this?" This one wears a dark hooded jacket, hood up.

"Y-yeah?" Patton stammers. He can't understand why they're so hung up on where he lives.

"This is..." the third one strokes his mustache, "Yeah, I can't even make fun of this. This is just sad."

"Do you have food in your fridge?" the hat guy demands. "Please tell me you at least have food in your fridge."

"Uh....uh... yes? Are you hungry?"

In answer, the hat guy strides with angry purpose into the kitchen. Patton can't see him from this angle anymore, but he hears the fridge open.

"There's literally only spaghetti in here!"

"It's...it's cheap to make." Patton doesn't know why he's explaining himself. Had he known that three men were going to break into his apartment, should he have prepared better meals for them?

"Can I have some?" the guy with the mustache asks, only to be cuffed by the hoodie guy.

"Dude, not the issue here."

"Why is there only pasta?!! Why don't you have any tables or TVs or a fucking bed?!!!"

The hat guy had gone past the boiling point. He hollers and slams cabinet doors like no tomorrow. Patton flinches and remembers too vividly of the atmosphere before the apartment. Before he was safe.

"I'm sorry," Patton defaults to how he's supposed to respond. He has been bad and he has to make amends. The tears overflow now and he can't get his shaking hands to wipe the wet streaks away. "I'm so sorry!"

"Oh shit, he's breaking. Virge, do something?"

"What the hell am I supposed to do?! I am not mentally equipped for this!"

"Janny!!"

The hat guy comes whirling back with all the fury of a storm. His shoulders heave. A gloved finger points straight at Patton.

"You!" he roars. Well, it's more like a hiss, but it sounds like a roar to Patton's sensitive ears.

"I'm sorry!"

"You have nothing to apologize for! Obviously, society has let you down. This is unforgivable. Deplorable! You deserve better than this."

"I do?" Patton questions, glasses askew and eyes wide.

"Yes. Come boys, we're leaving."

"Wait, why? Where?" Virge exclaims, waving his hands back and forth at everything and nothing at all. "What are we doing? This isn't the plan."

"New plan! Operation Do-It-Ourselves commences now."

And that is how Patton finds himself standing outside his apartment the next morning watching the three theives from last night moving furniture into his apartment.

He doesn't question if the furniture is stolen. He doesn't ask why they're going through so much trouble. He doesn't ever call the police.

He watches them bicker as they wedge a sofa through the door. He mumbles an answer when they politely ask him which wall he wants it pushed against. He eats the breakfast sandwiches that they brought him, and he feels like he's having an out of body experience.

Janus, the hat guy, directs the other two with confident authority. Virgil, the hoodie-clad one, fills up the fridge with groceries. Remus, the man with the mustache, shoves a mattress into the bedroom.

"What's happening?" Patton mutters to himself later. He thinks he's being quiet enough, but Remus hears him and throws an arm over his shoulder.

"Janus has adopted you. This is how it starts. It's best to just go with it."

Sweet, adorable, mild-tempered Patton who's just beginning to come out of his shell and learn that the world maybe does not in fact hate him for being born... has now been taken under the wings of some well-meaning criminals.

[sunflowerrosewood]

Not A Scum ~ Obey Me! Mammon

Author's Note: Since my other account @cheekyredwillow got deleted. I am adding some of my favorite fanfictions to this account and revamping this one with new ones. I hope to make an actual list of fandoms I am still a fan of! NO requests for the time being.

On to the one shot!

You were the other human transfer student and since became close with all the demon brothers. Mammon was the one you find the closest. He was, as you would say, your first. But even being the first one to make a pact with, you still thought of Mammon as your crush. And while you had an obvious crush on him, so much so that Belphie and Beelzebub would tease you about it, Mammon's crush on you wasn't as apparent.

You knew something strange was coming up when Mammon began to avoid you. It was shortly after some rowdy demons tried to kill you and Lucifer and Mammon protected you. But they did not take into the account of one that disappeared and then stabbed you in the shoulder. 

Lucifer immediately killed that demon and Mammon was yelling because the demon made the injury bubble and burn. It scared him. What you did not know was that Mammon blamed himself. If he hadn't dragged you to the cafe for a drink and left you alone, you wouldn't be in this mess. 

The burn was not as bad but Diavolo made you take the next couple of weeks off. Luckily Diavolo set something up where you could get your classwork similar to Levi and Belphie. Luke and Simeon do check on you other than the brothers. Speaking of the brothers, every single one of them checked on you except Mammon. While it was nice to see them worried, Mammon is usually the first to be there. 

You tried checking in by texting but you would just get the read message. And after a week of being waited on, you could get up and go to him. So you decided to put on some sweats and go outside. You could hear the Asmo, Mammon, Satan, and Levi in the halls so you decided to wait and listen. 

"How is she?" Mammon asked. 

"She seems to be doing fine with homework. The burn is healing nicely. She should be moving soon." Satan said nonchalantly.

"No thanks to you." Levi snapped. 

"What do you mean?" Mammon growled.

"What Levi is saying because thanks to you scum, Y/n was hurt. You left and she was hurt. Lucifer knew something would go wrong but you had to be greedy like usual. Now you didn't even check on her to see if she was okay like you didn't care. You are truly a scum." Asmodeus said as you could see Mammon's fist clench. 

"I was ashamed and thought Y/n would be upset with me." Mammon growled. 

"She would have been happier if you showed up." Levi growled. 

You noticed the three brothers walk away from Mammon. Mammon was looking down and pulled out his phone. You were lucky your phone was on vibrate because you saw you finally got a message from Mammon. He walked in his room afterwards.

Mammon: how are you?

You: I'm doing better now. I'm walking around.

Mammon: Sorry I haven't been by

Mammon: Do you mind if I come by now?

Mammon: I understand if you don't want me to

You: Come on by

You: I've missed you

End…

As soon as you sent your message, you heard a soft knock on your door. You got up and opened the door and could see that Mammon's gold eyes were dark. He looked ashamed and sad. Your heart felt like someone stuck a stake in it. 

"Mammon, is everything okay?" You asked softly. 

“I’m sorry Y/n for not checking up on you.” He said as you tugged him over to your bed.

“Why did you stay away from me?” You asked even though you had a good feeling what the answer would be.

You had never seen Mammon so hurt before. But even though you tried to usher him to sit on the bed, he bent down on his knees in front of you. You noticed his hands were shaking as he touched where you got your wound.

“May I see?” Mammon asked, avoiding the other question. 

You lifted your shirt and the gash where the demon had attacked had softened to just one pink streak on your side. Luckily Luke and Simeon made a medicine to heal it quickly. Mammon touched the wound on your side and you heard a soft whimper. When you looked down, Mammon had his face on your lap near the wound. 

“Mammon please tell me what is wrong.” You begged as Mammon touched his pact mark along the inner side of your left wrist. He pulled his head up and you saw tear streaks down his face. 

“I truly am a scumbag.” Mammon croaked as you felt his hand rubbing your pact mark. “I’m supposed to protect you. All I do is get you hurt and one of the other boys has to clean it up.”

“Mammon please look at me.” You said as his gold eyes met your e/c eyes.

“Y/n?” He questioned as you threw your arms around him and hugged him. You felt him stiffen not being used to contact. 

“Mammon you are not a scum or scumbag. Sure when we first met, it wasn’t the most pleasant. But now you brag about you being my first member to make a pact and it is something I cherish.” You said as Mammon tried to break the hug. “You made a mistake. We all do. But that will not make me love you any less.”

“Of course you would love me.” He said trying to show off but you felt his body shake. 

“Mammon, I know you aren’t okay. But I do promise you that I love you so much.” You said as you felt him hug you back.

“I’m sorry Y/n. I’m sorry. I promise I will take better care of you. I will protect you. I love you too Y/n.” Mammon rambled out as you pulled him onto your bed. 

The two of you stayed in each other’s arms for a few hours. The other brothers ended up peeking in to see. They did give Mammon hell for not checking up on you because they knew how much you loved him. And they didn’t like to see you upset and seeing Mammon beating himself up over it. They knew that since you two finally accepted each other’s feelings that it won’t be so one sided anymore. It also helped to hear each other’s worries and comfort.

[mdhwrites]

if you've seen Steven universe how would you compare it to TOH? I've seen many takes that TOH is Steven Universe 'done correctly' which drives me up a wall, especially since TOH has a lot of the same flaws as SU (pretty much everyone has to be tied to steven in some way- the same way everyone's gotta tie into Luz, White Diamond pisses me off for the same reason the collector does and dear god both finales are messes and the worldbuilding is also kind of messy) but pretty much everyone can agree that Steven Universe's themes of restorative justice are good, its themes surrounding interpersonal relationships and intergenerational trauma is good- I've seen people justify how TOH handles its villains 2 ways "its doing steven universe's restorative justice but like correctly" or "its about killing your oppressors, which steven should have done" which is dumb. Idk this fandom has a huge hate-boner for SU and Amphibia in general though. I also saw someone have the take the collector and belos where foils which... Is weird I can see where they come from but they never are put together in a way that highlights their similarities and differences. So what are some actual comparisons that can made between the shows outside of LGBT characters and surface level stuff?

Sadly I have not seen Steven Universe so I can't really comment on much of it. I've seen the first episode (both halves), decided the gems were insufferable to me and Steven was okay and went on with my life because at the time, I was a full time college student and a part time Walmart employee. I do like some of the songs that have reached me but I never got an in with the show, especially since my early experience with it was much like Gravity Falls where I heard a lot of high concept stuff about it but not much about why I would actually enjoy a given episode, what was enjoyable about the characters, etc. like that. Honestly, the only criticism I know of for it is that people hate the ending.

BUT.

I have seen one other thing. I have seen about twenty minutes of the Steven Universe movie. With that I can say one thing definitively even if it's not clearing a high bar: The Diamond's turn to good is better than the Collector's because they have literally ANY reason to listen to the person preaching at them. The Collector doesn't. In fact, he has no reason to reform and it is drastically out of character for him to care about... Anyone?

Let me start on the Diamond's side because I don't have a lot to say about this but it is something I'm surprised I haven't heard anyone talk about: They were clearly traumatized by the loss of Pink Diamond. Whether or not you think this is a good part of the plot isn't what matters, the point is that this is a literal fact to the story. This grief has gone unresolved for literal decades (just going by Steven's lifespan, someone in my Discord provided the context that they blamed themselves for her DEATH, not just disappearance, for CENTURIES which only bolsters the point I'm making) and has festered in them a desperation for their old comrade? Friend? I don't 100% know but you get the point. So when her son arrives and can't be kept by force, they're going to be pretty amenable to listen to whatever demands means keeping him around. Is that great? No, I wouldn't say it is as the question of what happens when Steven dies is there but it works for forcing them to consider the consequences of their actions and how they may need to change to have the life they desire. It is a compelling force for the first step of change. It's not amazing but it is at least functional from a narrative standpoint, an emotional standpoint and from a character standpoint. Not that it's great but that it is functional. You can string together how this works without having to just invent bullshit.

The Collector has none of these three because he's the literal fucking worst.

I've talked about this before but the Collector isn't the child the fandom treats him as. Even if we try to disconnect the second season version of the Collector, who very much so knows what death is and the consequences of his actions, S3 Collector does have a foil to Belos: He's an actual colonizing piece of shit. Not in that he is literally colonizing places but in mindset. Everything to him is something to be used for his entertainment or enrichment or it is to be stripped of all rights and brutally oppressed until it fits the role he desires. This is what happens when you become a LITERAL. FUCKING. DOLL. And he even has enforcers like the armies colonies would use that have wildly more powerful magic, i.e. technology, in order to make that oppression more seamless. Remember: Hexside is actively hiding from roaming stars that he just has going around the Isles that hoover up people, making at least those who resist into dolls immediately without question, and then bringing them to him to be new play toys in his game. That is explicitly what he has been doing to the entire Isles for MONTHS once S3 episode 2 happens.

People do not matter to him and this even extends to King. When King steps out of line, The Collector cracks the whip. He's even willing to KILL KING for having the gall of caring about anyone other than him. Those death games would be just as lethal to King as it would be to Eda and Luz after all. And if you actually do divorce S2's "PLAY AMONGST THE BONES!" line (which is fucking awful because you have to remove literally all of the first appearances of a character which is usually considered, you know... Bad) and believe that he doesn't know what death is... He knows what pain is. He knows what torture is. He knows the despair of being trapped in a space where you can't move or act or do anything except watch as an observer on a world that could destroy you at any moment because your prison is all of your being.

And then he makes people into dolls, with consciousness, without a second thought. He is willing to BREAK people in order to make them play along. His literal plan was to shatter the bodies of the Owl House trio over and over and over again until they were subservient to his desires. That is WORSE than just wanting to kill them. And he only stops to throw a tantrum because he fails to succeed and starts whining about it like any selfish asshole not getting his way. Not like a child: Like a selfish asshole.

So with ALL of this, what does the show do to try to make him consider the consequences of his actions? Well... Nothing. It claims it's trying to do something but the tour with the trio is much more a circle jerk about how amazing the show was and how much could have happened if not for the shortening ("That sounds like something that could have been its own spin off!" Or whatever King says to Eda talking about her and Raine's time at Hexside) than it is about talking to the Collector. There's a couple lines here and there, talking to him about what works for making friends but does it stick?

No, the Collector learns nothing and in mocking Steven Universe, they make that clear. The Collector is told that people are complex and you must show compassion. Rather than actually believing this, he uses it like a blunt hammer, just like all of his other solutions, to make a problem of his go away. That's why he hugs Belos and assumes it will work. He is not considering the complexity of humanity or the person he is applying this to. It is just to solve a problem so he'll get praised and go back to playing his games. Nothing. More.

And then he fucks off instead of fixing the damage he'd done because why would he stay? Why would he help? He hasn't learned anything and he doesn't want to help these people. He has NO motivation for why he helps save the Archive except otherwise he loses his sweet crash pad. So afterwards? He's gonna go somewhere where he can be himself and not be scolded for it because this toy is no longer fun.

Edit: He does stay to change everyone back from dolls. That much more falls into the "It's the ending, we have to have the problem only he can fix be fixed by him" despite the fact that he is responsible for so much more destruction that would theoretically be pretty easy for him to fix as well. He only does what is demanded of him for the sake of a happy ending, not because of character motivation, not from how I see it at least.

The most condemning part of this is that it's all around Luz. All around someone he doesn't like. He sees Luz as trying to take away his only friend after all and, you know, he is correct about that. They don't even try to hide that fact during the tour. They're still clearly upset with him and not even trying to be his friend, they're just lecturing him. It doesn't work from a character perspective, a narrative perspective or an emotional one. King MIGHT have with better writing, there's a reason I always wanted the Collector redeemed by one of his games forcing him to have to kill King by the rules he made before breaking it and having to face how that's unfair and cruel to others since they wouldn't get that leniency, but that's not how the show plays it. King is an unwilling servant for one episode and then VERY against the Collector in the next until after the death games. When he first shows up, King isn't trying to mediate, he is ready to fight just like the other two. He's not the Collector's friend and he never was so why would the Collector bother listening to him?

That is why me saying the Diamonds, even with my limited knowledge, works better than the Collector is almost literally the worst you can do when it comes to something like this. All the setup is wrong, the catalyst requires explicit retcons and don't work with the character and the payoff is... Nothing. Literally nothing. The only way to have done it worse is to have had everyone praise the Collector before he then stabbed Amity and no one acted like that was a problem. It can only function because we are TOLD he's redeemed even if he never shows it.

Andrias standing alone as a farmer, accepting the punishment for his actions and trying to make better on them, is such better payoff to a redemption arc than anything the Collector gets and his redemption was in character and setup by his past. So then let's get to one of your last points: Why is it that the TOH fandom rags on SU and Amphibia so much, especially for their endings, when theirs is such shit?

Well... Because that's the reputation of TOH. That it is the 'good' one. That it is better than almost all other media. The show itself, with moments like the Collector mocking the SU ending by hugging Belos, reinforces this. As such, for you to criticize TOH as failing in a department that other shows are not rapturously praised for is to fall out of sync with the show itself. As such, all other works must be placed beneath it, especially if those are widely believed to have a flaw in an element to then raise TOH up with. This is part of why so many people want to say the Amphibia ending is wrong because the Amphibia ending is brave and controversial and saying something while the TOH ending?

I mean... Do you really think the Collector's the only part of it objectively flawed like this? Because if a major redemption for your big bad is botched this badly, you can bet other problems exist. I've talked about them at length. But there are probably people out there who would call me the Lily Orchard of TOH if I was better known.

See you next tale.

======+++++======

That last line isn't an endorsement of Lily Orchard btw, just that I have to imagine it's the label I would be given. What little exposure I've had to her works is... YIKES. Just fucking yikes. My Discord has really enjoyed every time I've live reacted to a video of hers they've posted there. sigh

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Late Night Visit: Part 2

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x GN!Reader

Summary: Insomnia again and another visit from Spiderman. Will this become a common occurrence? A part of you hopes so.

Part 1

You thought that after that night of meeting Spiderman/Peter, that hopefully your insomnia would start to diminish a little bit. It didn't.

So here you are now, sitting in your bed reading a book that you had been meaning to read for a while now. You were about a third into the book when-

Knock, knock, knock.

You look at your window, seeing a familiar face, "Peter?" You place your book to the side and rush over to your window, opening it up, "Uh, hi?"

He rips off his mask and grins at you, "Hey, can't sleep again?" You shake your head. He gives an understanding nod, "That sucks. I guess you can help me out again."

You move to the side and he climbs in. This time, he has a backpack with him, "Um, what do you need help with?"

Peter slides his backpack off and unzips it. He pulls out a pizza box, "Well I bought this pizza and I don't think I can finish it. Thought that if you were awake, you'd help me finish it?"

The scent of it wafted over to you and your mouth began to water, "I suppose if Spiderman needs my help..."

Peter grins, "Perfect!" He waltzes out of your room and to your living room where he sits on your couch, placing the pizza box on your coffee table. He flips open the lid and winces, "It's all messed up, but it'll still be good. I promise!" he looks over your shoulder, "Have you tried this place out?"

You shake your head as you sit beside him, "Nope. Never heard of it."

His eyes widen, "You've never heard-oh, you're missing out!" He pulls a slice out, the cheese pull making your mouth water even more. You grab a napkin and use it as a make shift plate. You take a bite as Peter watches with eagerness.

When you swallow you go, "Well damn. That's some good pizza."

He's smiling with pride, "Knew you'd like it!"

You two continue to eat and chat. It was a little weird. The way that Peter/Spiderman is here again with you, but this time acting like you two are the best of friends. You didn't necessarily mind it. The guy was cute and great company. You just weren't sure why exactly he was here.

So after you two completely devour the pizza, you two are lounging on the couch. Peter is laying back, hand on his stomach looking satisfied.

You sit up and look at him, "Why're you here?" he looks at you confused so you clarify, "You literally just met me and this is the second time you've come here, but this time to just, what, hang out?"

He shrugs, "I guess."

"Why?"

"You're cool. I enjoyed your company that night. It-It's nice to have a friend. I don't really have much of those nowadays. But if I'm bothering you, I could go," he gets up from the couch, but your hand catches his wrist.

"Wait, Peter, stay. Please." he slowly sits back down and you continue to speak, "I guess, I dunno. This is a bit weird for me?"

"Do you not make friends with people?"

"I do. But pretty sure none of the friends I've made are freaking Spiderman!"

Peter snorts, "Yeah. What are the chances that one of your other friends is a superhero?"

"Zero to none, probably." you're both giggling and you fall back into the couch, "For the record, you could also come by during the day, but not as Spiderman. Peter will do."

"I'll keep that in mind," he replies with a soft smile and you both fall into a comfortable silence.

____________________________________

6 Months Later

You're asleep, thank goodness. It took a while, but you were finally able to get back to a normal sleeping schedule. So you were definitely grumpy when you heard a knock at your window.

"Go away, Peter!"

Knock, knock, knock!

"Nope!"

Knock, knock, knock!

"Stop it!"

Knock, knock, knock!

"Uuuggghh!"

You pull back the curtains to reveal Peter holding a bouquet of flowers, dressed in civilian clothing. He smiles at you as you open your window, "What?"

He grins and holds out the bouquet, "Happy Six Months!"

You're frowning at him, but you feel yourself wanting to smile. You take the flowers and help him in, "You couldn't have waited until we saw each other later for this?"

"Well I thought I'd ring in the anniversary of us getting together by recreating how we first met. Minus the suit and me bleeding out to death."

You snort, "Yes, thank you so much for not spearing at my window close to death."

He kisses your cheek, "I'm sorry I woke you."

You yawn out, "It's okay." You place the flowers into the vase on your night stand and plop into bed, "You can make it up to me by cuddling me."

"Deal," he says as he quickly kicks off his shoes and pulls of his clothes, only leaving himself in his boxers.

You go to your side of the bed and he goes to his, immediately pulling you towards him so that your back and flushed against his chest. He brings your blanket over the two of you and settles in.

With a kiss on your shoulder, he murmurs, "Good night. Love you."

You mumble back, "I love you too," a smile on your lips as you fall back asleep.

[by-ethan-fox]

So I saw Gundam Seed FREEDOM...

... and honestly it defies analysis.

I will avoid spoilers for major plot elements in this write-up.

I'm a huge Gundam fan. This shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone who has followed my work for a long time, as I frequently bring it up, even in entirely inapplicable situations.

But even though I've been a fan since the late 90s, I'd never had a chance to see any of it in the cinema - so when AllTheAnime organised a special short run of the movie for UK theatres, I jumped at the chance.

What I saw surprised me.

To clarify, I'm not one of those Gundam fans who hates SEED. Sure, I love the UC, but I'm not gonna lie, Wing was my genesis within the fandom so I'm as likely to watch G-Gundam as 08th MS Team, though I do lean towards the grittier side of the franchise, with War in the Pocket being my favourite entry.

But most relevant to this is that while I enjoyed SEED, I've always been critical of Destiny for some really bizarre plotting that, frankly, kinda left the CE timeline in a mess. Like many fans, with the show having been off the air for nearly two decades, I gave up on the idea the movie might exist literally years ago.

With all that out of the way...

The movie does exist. Finally. And is it good? Bad?

The weird thing is I don't know what to say, and that's weird for a writer.

It's awesome. It's terrible. It's goofy. It's clever. It's idiotic. It's bizarre.

But it's over 2 hours long and, honestly, I was never bored, which I guess is a success?

Perhaps most surprisingly, the movie expends ZERO ENERGY on helping you if you haven't seen the near-100-episodes of CE anime which came before this. Like, if you haven't seen SEED and or Destiny, you are just utterly fucked. The show wheels characters and plot-beats from the prior material in-and-out in a manner I could best call aggressive. I last watched Destiny about ~7 years ago, and I'm a self-admitted Gundam nerd; but even I had to look up a few things on my phone afterwards.

Then, fan-service. Of both kinds. All sorts of things get pulled out of cold storage for the movie... But it works. Though that also stands as a testament to how this is, in the truest sense, a 2004 anime throwback. I actually heard some people in the cinema groaning at some of the Gainax Bouncing going on; but then given the jiggly silhouette in EVERY OPENING TO SEED, frankly it would've been stranger if it had been absent.

I think the movie has loads of problems. Even by CE standards, some of the storytelling was really goofy and dare-I-say-it, "cringe". It recycles probably too much and certainly doesn't stand on its own as a piece of media (though that's not so much a failing as a clear, conscious choice).

Also... It has that "anime movie" thing where the plot feels a bit filler. The first time you have this new guy on the scene with shock-white hair, being all edgelord as he talks about war and destiny and fencing or some other weird metaphor you kinda see the entire movie unfurl before you. If you're a longtime anime fan this isn't so much your first rodeo as your daily commute.

From there, the story takes numerous predictable turns, dips liberally into melodrama, sets up some great Mobile Suit fights, with relatively few surprises (note, however, I'm not saying "no surprises", as there are some, and also, I'm not suggesting it's tedious).

And yet...

It's fun.

It's really, really fun.

That's the crux of all this. That's what really matters. And honestly, when that new theme comes out of the speakers, sounding in perfect key with the types of music that ran through SEED's run, and Kira's onscreen, and he's locking onto a dozen targets and beams are spamming everywhere and everything's exploding in that weird pink way that things in SEED explode...

Have you ever tried to play a videogame from the 90s that you haven't played in years? And do you know how touch-and-go that is?

Gundam Seed FREEDOM is, if I'm to compare it to anything, like that.

But thankfully, it's one of the times when your memories might have been optimistic, but they're not wrong. That game may be a bit crude, a bit rough around the edges, and have more boob and ass jiggle than you recall... But it's good. So good that you find yourself sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of your console, grinning like an absolute loon, until it's 2am and you can no longer feel your feet.

If you have fond memories of the SEED era of the Gundam franchise, don't miss it.

[oodlyenough]

6-2 magical turnabout

I gotta admit I was deeply skeptical of this one, because it felt weird to jump back to Apollo and Athena and Japanifornia after the tutorial, and I'd heard about the uh questionable way Phoenix and Trucy's relationship is handled, and the Gramarye retcon stuff was a mess ...

but I actually really liked it! At least as much as Turnabout Academy, where I think they are similarly "so dumb it loops back around to being fun" (not a bad place to be for an AA filler case). What gives this one the edge is that SOJ has actual gameplay again. Thank fucking god. I can click things! I can investigate! There are minigames! I have to solve puzzles myself instead of waiting for NPC Athena to do it for me! These are the most basic elements of an AA game and somehow Dual Destinies had none of them, making SOJ feel like a revelation. So I think that makes this my fave case since AA4? Wow

Anyway let's get into it

I like the idea of defendant Trucy. Trucy was so ignored in AA5, and even in AA4 where she was a major player we rarely dealt with how she honestly feels about things. So it was nice to explore that a little more. Being a defendant is a rite of passage for an Ace Attorney character. She's all grown up now.

A magic show as the scene of a murder is a really fun idea also. It just gives great excuses for the shenanigans that take place in any murder case, and the solution feels less contrived bc it is with a perpetrator and a set design where those things are expected and facilitated naturally without a shit ton of contrivances and coincidences.

Apollo and Athena, for all my complaints about how they cannibalize each other's screentime just by simultaneously existing, are a fun team. And this time we actually got a lot of interactive banter because we actually got to CLICK STUFF wow so great much gameplay.

I do really enjoy Athena. I wish this franchise would get out of the habit of creating these interesting but half-baked characters just to park them immediately in the next instalment to create more interesting but half-baked characters. I have the rest of SOJ to go but I don't imagine Athena will have much of a role to play in it, just like how Apollo got shafted in DD to make way for Athena, and Trucy fared even worse. The main cast is so bloated the games can't balance everyone.

I am THRILLED Ema is back. Some of her new sprites are sf cute too. Overall, I have to compliment SOJ's sprites, which are very detailed and have lots of different animations. Many characters have new/more expressive ones, and they look way better than DD's 3D models.

The Gramarye lore is a hot mess. I do not believe the new writer remembered that Trucy is a Gramarye on her MOM'S side, since apparently the "Gramarye creed" was "passed down from my father, from his father", making it... the Enigmar creed. I also, generally, could probably have done without some of the way the Gramaryes were discussed here. They were pretty obviously a toxic shitshow nightmare in AA4, and Phoenix explicitly wants to protect Trucy from the truth of that. Here, we introduce the Jonkler out of nowhere, and have him cursing Magnifi and taking his revenge on ... the toddler... and it's all just a little bit weird. The poster of him being CANCELLED is the funniest thing I've ever seen though so I can forgive a lot of it just for that.

Also where is my man Valant. Why the hell would Trucy invite the Onceler to her show and not him lmao. Justice for Valant!!

I've also never wished Apollo knew his heritage more than in that last bit where Tony Stark was raving about how he defeated the "last" Gramarye lmao.

Nahyuta is ... fine so far. Honestly I know he's so unpopular in fandom but he's kind of fine so far? Not an immediate fave, but not even in my bottom two. The bit where he talks about studying Japanifornian culture made me think of the Dalek that "knows everything" because it downloaded the internet in 2013.

I've been semi-spoiled for Apollo and Nahyuta having a history together, and I have to say I'm pleasantly surprised that the game is not concealing this, but teasing it right from the off. I liked that in Apollovision his dialogue box is labelled "Nahyuta" even though everyone in-dialogue is calling him by his surname. I suspect this might be more a game dev limitation (character limit?) than anything else, but even if that's the case, it's a happy coincidence. The real test will be if they manage to stop Nahyuta and Apollo from feeling like a redux of Edgeworth and Phoenix, or Athena and Blackquill. Much of my issue with the end of DD was that it felt like we were just revisiting the trilogy's greatest hits without the same depth. But... whatever. I'm intrigued enough, at this point.

The biggest problem with this case, the elephant in the room, is Phoenix, who is inexplicably not there for his daughter's debut, did not even send flowers (apparently), and does not even talk to her on the phone in the last scene. This is exceedingly stupid and reeks of a total narrative oversight because they're not even trying to make some kind of point about Nick being a bad father. It's just a total lack of thought or effort. But ... anyway I have a whole other post written up about how Trucy and Phoenix's relationship is written in all the games, so, more on that another day, I guess. TL;DR Canon is a liar sometimes.

The "Gramarye[Enigmar] Family Motto" stuff, which is already so similar to the Mia Fey wisdom, could've just been collapsed into one thing: Trucy as a performer adapting that lawyer motto to her own life would be a nice way to show how Trucy is influenced by Phoenix, as well as Apollo and Athena. But uh, well, the game doesn't seem to care much about Trucy and Phoenix, so. I also find the "smile though your heart is breaking" mantra, including the JUDGE telling Trucy to look happy lmao??!?!, is like, kind of weird tonally, to the degree where I wonder if there's a culture gap happening. But I don't know enough about Japan to say.

Overall, though, I enjoyed this case. SOJ is off to an OK start with me so far, at least in comparison to DD.

[antigonewinchester]

on the topic of fandom reactions to Cas in season 6, it makes me think abt 2 things I've heard recently.

one was this post, about a show I haven't seen but made some interesting points abt western fantasy media & how characters who are intending to do the right thing but seriously mess up are rare: there's the very common Good Guys vs. Bad Guys, there are stories where All The Guys are Morally Complicated, sometimes there are shows about just Bad Guys, there are the shows about Good Guys Turning Bad, but it's rare to see a character who is trying to be good but still messes up majorly. I think that's part of the 'problem' with Cas in S6, in that his overall intention (stop Raphael/the Apocalypse) is good, but the way he goes about it, keeps secrets, the gaslighting, is really not good. it's also Cas intentionally making those choices. he doesn't go "dark side," he doesn't go full villain, he's trying again to prevent the end of the world and fucks up in how he does so.

second is from a talk I was listening to the other day, which proposed American culture is built on an idea of the "final judgement," or the idea people are judged as Good or Bad and given the fate they deserve. this talk suggested that our criminal justice system isn't based on justice but on finality: the judgement of crimes is a Final Judgement, so it matters less whether than judgement is actually true vs. there is a judgement being made, and it's more important for judgement to be applied & upheld than for those judgement to always be true. (which is, for example, reflected in this horrifying real-life case of a father accused of killing his son on incredibly faulty evidence, and the court's & judge's refusal to consider his innocence years later).

all of this comes together in a complicated mess around Cas in S6. he has good intentions, but acts in bad ways, but he's not a villain, but he's not a hero either, so what does someone do with him? to call him Bad in S6 feels like a final judgement, and how is Cas supposed to come back from that, so people default to calling him Good. and frankly there's a similar failure of moral imagination on the writers part in how S7 and Cas's arc is written, because its framing turns into "Cas feels really really bad & was trying to do something good & should they forgive him?" they don't want to take Cas beyond the 'point of no return,' so they de-emphasize the messed up stuff he did and focus on Sam and Dean (well, really Dean's) resentment towards him as a conflict to solve. because that's an easier conflict, and a more understandable conflict for the audience, versus trying to do something more complicated with Cas changing as a character because of his mistakes.

[doodlegirl1998]

Really thinking about what you said "My Abuser academy"and it feel too right in canon.

Look Endy being forgiven and people apologising to him feels it was a progression of a nig scheme. Let me try to explain

BK is visually being abusive to Izu. Hori undermines that, somehow and only god knows what this man thinks, makes Izu's tears a joke.

Fandom went along.

And you see many, many arts with Izu and BK.

Some people think Hori will redeem him.

Then we go to Endy. He is abusive to his family and at first it seems this will be taken serious....but Endy's redemption begins when he got what he wanted...and he doesnt lose anything.

It is all a progression. If people found funny BK trying to kill Izu (and I bet there are people like that) than...there are people who wanted to see abuser Endy be redeemed.

Hi @mikeellee 👋,

Yeah I have to admit in my more cynical moments there are parts of MHA where the messaging can feel quite malicious at times;

The constant undermining and playing up for comedy with Bakugou's abusive behavior seems to be (combined with what I know of Japans stance on bullying) mean-spirited in particular toward Izuku. Also using both AM and Aizawa as mouth pieces to push the narrative that whatever toxic mess that Bkg and Izuku have going on is a rivalry? Like Izuku has some fault in Bkg's toxic bullying bullshit? Nope! It's shit to read and I hate it.

Hori now brushing over the true weight of Endeavour's abuse with his retcons "Rei just tripped", "Incest in the Himura family is why Dabi and Rei are crazy" (a take I've unfortunately heard from Endeav fans), "Evil Touya tried to kill Shoto so that's why Endeav kept Shoto away from the other kids - he wasn't deliberately separating the masterpiece at all!!) Also the way Hori is framing this is gross - like with Izuku and Bakugou - he's trying to make out like Endeav's victims also have some fault in how Dabi turned out.

Bonus - have a third example! Hawks and Twice. What did Hawks lose for killing Twice? His reputation with the heroes? Nope. His job? Nope. His wings and/or health? Nope. Experience any crippling guilt for stabbing his mentally ill friend in the back and murdering him in cold blood? Also Nope, to add insult to injury Nagant, experiences more guilt than him, has a moment where she looks up to him for still having HOPE! And he answers with 'I guess I'm an optimist.' How can you be Hawks?! Where's the goddamn guilt you should feel?! The conflict? The...anything apart from being up Endeavors ass! Do you feel my anger about this?! Granted Toga is using Twice's blood to go on a murderous rampage but she didn't use that to kill Hawks or go after those he cares for like Tokoyami (does he care for Tokoyami, actually?- that bond feels like Tokoyami likes Hawks more than Hawks likes him to be honest but the point still stands.)

TLDR - the abusers and murderers in MHA lose nothing as long as they're on the heroes side which is a godawful message to have considering the heroes in this story are meant to be like super powered cops.

[giggly-squiggily]

Hey, I just found your blog and I've been binging all your fics. Demon slayer is probably my favorite manga that I've read, and your fics are my favorite in the fandom. I just love your characterization and all your headcanons for the characters. 

I read your fic Cuties, and was wondering if you'd ever think of writing a sequel for it? There's no pressure of course, but I'd love it if you wrote one; it's my favorite arc and has some of my favorite characters. Either way, I love your work and can't wait to see what you make in the future.

Heyo! Oh my goodness! Thank you so much, anon! 🥰 I appreciate it! And of course I can! :D The Swordsmith arc is my favorite arc too, so this was an absolute blast to write! I hope you like it!

Cloud 9 (Taglist peeps)

@myreygn, @thatbigbisexual29 @duckymcdoorknob @wolfyeatstacos @gladdygirl18 @baby-tickles2022 @cupcake-spice13 @backy-san @t-wordiiish

“Let’s get Genya!” The words sent a shockwave throughout the mentioned boy’s body, nearly gluing his feet to the floor. Panicked, he watched as the tiny girl- Nezuko was it? Nod excitedly up at the Hashira, sharing a look of undeniable mischief.

“What? No- Nonononono, that’s not necessary!” He didn’t wait to see if they’d follow- he was flying down the hall, pumping his legs like he was chasing after a demon. He could get away! He could-

“Gotcha!” Mitsuri’s hand closed around his Yukata from behind. It was like being grabbed by a steel chain- her strength was incomparable! Genya swore as he was jerked back, feeling his legs slide out from under him by tiny arms. Even Nezuko was this strong? He heard she was a demon, but come ON!

He could almost hear Nemi in his head. “Foolish brother. Never underestimate your opponents!”

He was partially grateful Sanemi wasn’t here now to witness such tomfoolery. He’d ‘tsk’ at him so much.

“Mm!” Nezuko cheered to his left, her tiny hands immediately coming to his sides, pinching and prodding. Genya shot an arm down, trying to protect himself, but then Mitsuri was sitting on his back, one hand easily sweeping both his wrists up in an iron grip while her free hand poked along his armpit. Any attempts to hold in his laughter were gone like the wind.

“Nohohoohooho, plehehahahhahhahse! AHehahahhahahhaa! Stahahhahap, I’m tihiihihiihcklish!” He cried, feet kicking as he squirmed about. Beneath the girl’s giggles, he could hear Tanjiro fighting down a snort. “Tahhahahahhanjiro, hehehehehelp mehehehehehhe!”

“Help is on the way, Genya!” He heard him cry out, the sound of footsteps running towards them. He was saved!

“Good thinking, Tanjiro! Quick, grab his legs!” Mitsuri directed, and all of Genya’s fate in humanity went away as he felt Tanjiro sit on his calves, wiggling his fingers behind his knees.

“Trrahhahahahahhahhhahator!” Genya cried out.

“Sorry Genya, but it’s either me or you- and Mitsuri’s really good at tickling.” Tanjiro offered apologetically, even though Genya could hear the smile in his voice. The gunner was in hell. Between Nezuko’s poking fingers, Mitsuri’s expert scratching, and Tanjiro on his freaking KNEES- he swore he was gonna see the light.

“Ahehahahahhahahahha! Ihiihiiihihm gohohohohohohnna dhihihihihihihihiihe!” He cried out to no one. Eyes, look your last! Arms, take your last embrace! And Lips- Oh you the doors of breath-

“Who’s dying?” Muichiro walked in, blinking at the mess of bodies in the hall. Almost immediately, the chaos came to a halt, everyone blinking up at the Mist Hashira curiously.

Oh dear.

“Hey Tanjiro~” Misturi looked over her shoulder, pointing at the confused boy with an impish grin. The other didn’t need to be told twice.

“Come here, Mui!” Tanjiro all but leaped, flying over the bodies and crashing into Muichiro. Normally an attack like that wouldn’t even budge the Hashira, but Muichiro was still fairly dazed at the sight he walked in on, meaning he was caught off guard.

Bodies hit the floor, the smell of mist and woods hit Genya in the face, and the next thing he knew Muichiro was laughing just as hard as he was, squeaking beneath Tanjiro’s fingers as they flew across his ribs. “Ahahhahhahhaha! Wahahhahait, wahahhhahait, hohohoohold ohoohoohohon!” He cried out, feet kicking and arms slapping at the older boy’s shoulders.

“Muichiro’s ticklish!” Tanjiro cried, delighted. Nezuko squealed behind her muzzle, standing up and dogpiling onto the boy, joining the fray.

It was quite the sight, and Genya couldn’t deny he found the rare smile the younger boy wore rather precious.

“And then there was one~” Mitsuri teased above him.

Oh right- he was dying.

“Wait! Wait, Miss Kanrojihihihiihihihihihiihi!” Genya hooted in mirth, squirming about once more as her fingers attacked his ribs. “Pleahhahahahhahse wahhahahahhait!”

“Hmm, nope! You ignored me at the Hot Spring! That was rather mean, don’t you think? I was pretty upset by that!” Misturi scolded, her voice lacking any real malice. “Now you get to face the consequences!”

“Ahehahahahhha, I’m sorry! I’m sohohoohoohoohrry!” Genya squealed, his laughter mixing with Muichiro’s before him.

“Gehahahhahahaha, stahhahahp ihihihiiht! I’ll kihiihihihihck yohohohohour buhuhuhuhuhuhtts!” Muichiro declared, cheeks red and eyes misty with laughter. With a sudden boost of speed, he shot his hands out and up, scribbling into Tanjiro’s belly.

“AH! Ahehahahhahahahaha, no dohoohohohohn’t!” The older boy yelped, arms coming around his torso in a vain attempt to block. Muichiro sat up, easily switching their positions so he was on top now. “Muhuuhuuhuhuichihihiihihro!”

“Die, Tanjiro.” The Mist Hashira declared, even though his voice shook with laughter.

Nezuko, who was originally helping, sat back to watch. Her eyes grew soft with sleep, and it wasn’t long before she was lying on her side, sleeping like a baby.

Before long, a pile of bodies were scattered across the floor. Genya gasped for breath as he curled on his side, taking in the carnage. Mitsuri had rolled off him and onto her back a few feet away, Nezuko now curled against her chest, fast asleep. Before him, Muichiro had all but collapsed across Tanjiro, rolling off like a snail on a leaf. The only thing keeping him up is Tanjiro’s hand- once tickling now just hanging on to his uniform. Neither were awake- Genya could hear the soft snores beneath tufts of back to blue hair.

“Hehe..hehehe…I hadn’t done that in awhile.” Genya mused, looking over to find Mitsuri smiling gently at him. His face burned, but he didn’t look away. “Sorry by the way…for ignoring you earlier.”

“It’s alright. I know you weren’t being mean.” She reached out, ruffling his hair before moving it out of his face. “He’d be proud of you, you know. Shinazugawa.”

The thought of his brother proud of him, combined with her sisterly touch,  made him tear up for a new reason. “I doubt it..”

“Sanemi’s all bark with soft maple insides.” She reassured, her free hand stroking Nezuko’s back, making the smaller girl sigh in her sleep. “He only acts like that because he thinks he has too. Like Kyo- he acted all smiley even when he wanted to cry.” She looked sad then. “People do the oddest things when they want to protect someone. Be it themselves, or others.”

“I’m sorry about Mr. Rengoku.” He really was.

She blinked back her own tears, smile wet. “Thank you.” Taking a breath, she let her hand fall to his neck, wiggling her fingers some. He immediately scrunched up with a giggle, making her snort. “He does that too. Hey- want me to beat him up for you when I see him again?”

“Huh?” Genya stared. Mitsuri grinned.

“Not actually- but I do know a good chunk of his tickle spots. I can fix up that grump-tastic attitude of his for you.”

Genya considered, then he laughed, wiping his face.

“You don’t need to, but if you decide to anyway, his stomach’s the worst. Even when we were kids, he couldn’t take being tickled there.” He grew quiet, eyes widening. “Don’t tell him I told you that.”

Mitsuri held out her pinky. Without question, he looped his into hers, sealing their agreement.

“Deal.”

Thanks for reading!

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Eyes and Ears

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: An AU where Barbara finds Jason instead of Bruce.

Chapters: 19/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon, Jim Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Sheila Haywood, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character(s), Past Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Older SIbling Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd-centric, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Jason Todd is NOT Robin, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Has a Crush, Adopted Siblings

Chapter Nineteen: Last September

Barbara poked her head in the workshop, and Jason looked up at the source of light as he talked with his friends. He smiled and jumped down from the stage to help Barbara with the pizza boxes in her hands. "What are you doing here?" Jason asked.

"I heard you guys were working on costumes. I could help," Barbara suggested. "If you don't want me here, I could just—."

"You're the best, Babs," Jason whispered, grinning as he set the pizzas on an empty table. Barbara pulled paper plates out of a tote bag, and Jason started eating.

"Jason, use a—."

Jason took a plate from her and finished chewing. "I want you to stay. I'm glad you're here," Jason whispered before turning to introduce her to the other kids. They all thanked her for bringing pizza and ate together.

"You should see Jason's mustache—."

"Gabby, no," Jason laughed nervously. Gabby gave Jason his mustache, and Jason put it on. Barbara grinned. "It's not my official mustache. It's just mustache number one."

The kids fooled around and showed off what they'd done so far. After everyone was done eating, they went back to work, and Barbara helped with some of the sewing work. She and Jason worked side-by-side, and after a few hours of working, they stopped to finish the pizza. Jason was different by that time. He'd grown quiet and business-like, reserved to a specific spot on the stage where he sat alone listening to music. Barbara followed him and nudged him. "You okay?" Barbara asked. Jason nodded and took a deep breath. "Do you want to be alone?"

"I don't have to be. I just wanted some quiet," Jason whispered.

"What are you listening to?" Barbara asked. He passed her one of his earbuds, and she sat down next to him and listened quietly with her eyes closed. After a few minutes, Jason lay his head on Barbara's shoulder, and she looked over at him to see that he'd started to drift off to sleep. "Know what's funny? I've known you for over a year, and this is the first time I've ever heard the music you like," she whispered. He opened his eyes and sat up.

"This is my mom's music taste. It just helps me relax," Jason whispered. She looked over at him again.

"Your mom had great taste... Jason, can I ask about her? What was she like?" Barbara asked.

"She was safe. When she wasn't sick, she was so much fun to be around. Mom was funny and spontaneous, and sometimes she'd get so sad she couldn't—. She made everything okay when she could," Jason explained. Barbara messed up his hair.

"Her best was beyond good enough. She made you the person you are now, and Dad and I love that person," Barbara reassured him, and he smiled.

Jason waited a moment before getting up and stretching. "I'm glad you came to help tonight," Jason thanked her again. Their teacher called them together and had them run through a few scenes. Barbara wrapped Jason's headphones up and held onto his phone for him.

His phone vibrated, and she answered. "Hello?" Barbara answered.

"Hey, Pumpkin. Where's Jason?" Jim asked.

"He's got his hands a little full," Barbara replied.

"Did he eat?" Jim asked.

"I brought pizza for him and his friends... Oh, I'm taking him home later, so don't worry about picking him up tonight," Barbara whispered.

"Thank you, Babs. I'll see you kids in the morning," Jim replied before hanging up. Barbara charged Jason's phone until he was freed up to come back.

"We can go now," Jason replied as he put on his backpack and took his phone from her. He waved goodbye to his friends and followed Barbara out into the parking lot before doing a cartwheel.

"Tonight was fun, huh?"

"You had fun?" Barbara asked.

"Yeah, you were there, and we got to hang out and—. Do you want to help work on the floats tomorrow?" Jason asked. Barbara nodded as she unlocked the car.

Jason threw his backpack in the backseat, and he lay back and closed his eyes. By the time they both got home, Jason was fast asleep. "Jay, psst. Wake up. We're at home," Barbara whispered, and he took a sharp inhale of air before grabbing his bag and following her up. Jason stretched out and said goodnight before taking his shower and going straight to his room.

Once Barbara was asleep, Jason came into her room and got on her computer. She opened one eye and watched as he searched something up. "What are you doing?" Barbara asked.

Jason exited out of his tabs and turned to her. "Were you awake this whole time?" Jason asked. Barbara nodded as she lay on her side facing him. "I can explain... I'm working on something for you for Christmas. I figured that if I started early, I'd be finished by early December."

"Well, what is it?" Barbara asked. Jason smiled a little half-smile before getting up.

"Wouldn't you like to know, Barbie," Jason whispered on his way out of her room. He stopped in the doorway to offer her one last thought for the night. "Let it be a surprise."

Barbara turned on her back after Jason left, and she stared up at the ceiling. As she drifted off to sleep, she couldn't help but wonder what Jason was doing.

When she woke up that morning, Jason sat at her desk in his uniform while eating breakfast. "Good morning," Jason greeted her, "Pop can't take me to school this morning. He had to go in early. I made you breakfast." Barbara sat up and looked around her room.

"I have to take you to school?" Barbara asked. Jason nodded. "What time are we looking at?" She scratched her head as she tried to wake up.

"You've got forty-five minutes. Your breakfast is made, the keys are on the counter, and I made your lunch for work," Jason whispered. Barbara got out of bed and dressed to take Jason to school before eating her breakfast, and Jim came out of Jason's room with a cake.

Jason came out of her room, and they both sang her the happy birthday song. She smiled and thanked them both.

"You guys didn't have to do this," Barbara replied.

"You gotta make a wish," Jason whispered. She smiled and closed her eyes before blowing out the candles.

"Thank you guys," Barbara replied as she looked back at Jason, "How much time do you have before—."

"Barbara, it's Sunday," Jason laughed. She scrunched up her nose and cut the cake. "Yesterday was Saturday."

Barbara gave Jim his piece and then Jason his. "Jason ordered the cake," Jim replied. Barbara ate a little bit of her cake, and a grin spread across her face. She kissed Jason on the cheek.

"Gross," Jason complained as he wiped his face.

"You're the best little brother a girl could ask for," Barbara whispered.

"It was nothin'," Jason replied, pausing a moment before asking, "Did I get it right?"

Barbara smiled and nodded as she ate. "It's perfect, thank you," she smiled. Jason lit up. He and Jim started eating their slices of cake, and Jim nudged Jason.

"Good pick," Jim commended Jason.

[decepti-thots]

in lieu of tf fanon, can we all just agree that the fanon around seekers is just WAY too pervasive???? genuinely. why is seeker fanon Like That. why are seekers sometimes treated as a whole exotic subspecies. i feel like people got too attached to starscream, looked at the silly color swapped jet models due to budget in the original 80's cartoon, and just decided to invent a new kind of weird robot racism. sorry that this is on the bitchery side of anons but weirdly set-in-stone fanon stuff like seekers is what turned me off from reading tf fanfic

The answer to this, that is 'why is seeker fanon Like That', is gonna by necessity involve some discussion of NSFW stuff so I will cut this. But it's kinda. Necessary for the topic, lmao, so. And I do think it's worth actually going through ig. I've seen a lot of folks recently express this exact irritation and confusion, so...

OK so the honest answer: a good chunk of it's just fetish porn tbqh. And people, they are horny for those jets, lmao, and Starscream, exactly. Kink with some worldbuilding scaffolded around it as setup. Which to be clear, when someone is straight up just like 'hi, here is some cheerfully self-aware kink about breeding and shit, do not read too hard into this fantasy nonsense as a coherent narrative- we are here for horny egg laying and the implications will not be expanded on beyond that' I am usually like 'yeah cool go for it!!', lmao. Not my thing, can still go places in execution I'm like 'uhhhh think this through better please' about ofc, but like. Kink's kink, and all. Pretend adult fun times engaged in with full self-awareness are fine, a lot of the time.

My irritation really comes with when this bleeds into stuff that is taking itself seriously and is uhhhh. Not that? Or when it's engaged in by people who clearly don't have a level of self awareness about the above. And the answer is... IMO it's just regular fandom racism tbh, with an extra layer of obfuscation over it because it's got the fantasy analogue thing disguising it. Some people enjoy a lot of tropes that derive from certain strands of commercial genre romance, and honestly a lot of classic SFF as well, that are based in things they do not fully realise are rooted in racism, or any number of -isms tbh. And there's also a lot of people who sort of do notice, but they still want to keep enjoying those things without guilt, so they try and take the underlying logics and apply them to fantasy constructs or whatever in the hopes this will make the thing they like Not Racist. (Spoiler alert: the issue is rarely who the tropes are applied to alone, and this basically never works, because humans have pattern recognition and know how analogies work.)

People like stories about Scary Barbarians, or Submissive Sexually Exotic Androgynes, or whatever. And then someone points out 'yeah but mate, those are racial stereotypes, have you heard of orientalism' or whatever, and people feel bad but they sort of. Want to keep enjoying those stories in a way that is not harmful! That strips out that element succesfully. So they try and write an alien fantasy version, but again. This doesn't actually work most of the time, tbh. Because humans have pattern recognition and the tropes, the logic underlying the ideas in the first place, are often the actual issue. Shrug.

And IMO, this is where you get 'biologically distinct races frametypes who are Just Naturally For Breeding' shit, or whatever other example I can pull out of the TF fanon hat, in ostensibly serious stories about geopolitical conflicts or serious personal drama, ones which expect you to engage with this as an actual framework for how a world could work and not just as a loose excuse for 2000 words of smut. It's not as though canon is totally immune to this to be clear- ask me sometime about how I feel about the mess that is functionism being an analogy for 48563 things, lmao- but fanon is more pervasive because you're contending with decades of this stuff being super pervasive in fandom spaces and it becoming standard for fic. We were having discussions about this exact stuff like. When I was 15 on LJ, lmao. And it wasn't new then! I don't think it's anything unique; it's just got those extra layers of abstraction to sort through in terms of 'why IS this happening with these fuckin planes'.

[licncourt]

I've only read the first trilogy a decade ago and while swimming around book fandom for the last couple of months i've come accross different opinions regarding Lestat post QotD. I've also heard that AR massacred his character in Tale of the Body Thief.

How would you describe Lestat's character arc post QotD? Is there even a character arc? Does he finally get to mature a bit and work on his issues? Does it happen off page? Did he get lobotomized like Louis and Armand?

God this is such a hard question, especially when it comes to a character arc because yes, there is technically a discernable arc for Lestat, but the problem is that it was entirely unintentional and the opposite of was AR seemed to be going for.

The first book after QotD is the best example of this I think. It starts off really strong with Lestat struggling to cope with the effects of Akasha's abduction and the changes to his body, as well as a bittersweet but well-written look into what his relationship with Louis is like at this point in time.

Unfortunately it goes completely off the rails after that. It's hard to say that Lestat is wildly OOC because he's really not. Most of what happens feels pretty authentic to someone with Lestat’s personality dealing with trauma through the lifestyle and moral lens of vampirism. He's manic and self-destructive and vacillating wildly between lashing out at loved ones and total emotional dependency.

The issue becomes some of the plot events themselves and how they're handled. This books is pretty notorious because it really ruins the growth Lestat has experienced up to this point, most pressingly by making him a rapist in both a human and vampire sense.

If this had been played as a reaction to his own assault and a fucked up attempt at taking power back and "embracing" evil to cope, MAYBE this could've been spun into at least some kind of existential horror narrative about cycles of abuse and becoming the evil that you hate, but the tone, the context, and AR's real-life opinions on these issues make it clear that this is just the author's idea of "what men are like" (it literally says that in the book).

This is really the first step in Lestat transitioning from what he is in the trilogy into a messed up male power fantasy for Anne Rice that lacks any kind of self awareness, nuance, irony, or character consistency. From this point on, this macho character completely eclipses the Lestat we knew before as AR turns him into something unrecognizable.

This progresses across the rest of the books (with very brief glimpses of the "real" Lestat that are just enough to add insult to injury). If she had written him as putting on macho playboy persona as an act to deal with his own fear and trauma and vulnerability, it might’ve worked (although it still would've gone on too long). Instead, this is completely unironic, a full change of character with no explanation given as AR started to project her own ideals onto an established character.

By the end of the series, he's clearly happier, but it feels hollow because he's also not himself. He's magically not traumatized anymore, he's a prince who's the perfect masculine ideal and everyone fawns over him as a god. It feels like some desperate fantasy TVL Lestat would have had instead of reality.

He's definitely more mature and suddenly able to commit to Louis and make "good" choices, but we never see how he got there or what changed. There's no healing process shown and no reason for any of the changes. It's jarring and confusing and you're happy for him, but unsatisfied. Sure, things are better for him, but his character is far less interesting and a lot more unlikable so you can hardly be excited for the good stuff.

So basically AR turned Lestat into accidental existential horror over the course of two decades and then popped him out the other side as an alpha male with an eight pack and a crown.

[anna-hawk]

🌬️ Lucky Disaster 🌬️

Sequel to this post

Pairing: BJ x Reader Fandom: Grudge Match Word count: 1471 Rating: T

Summary: The wind messes with your laundry.

A/N: I've been meaning to write a sequel for this for a long time, and this scenario has been in my head for a while, so tonight was apparently the night.

Read and/or listen to it on AO3

Alright, you had known that Pittsburgh comes with cold weather in Winter, but you hadn’t minded that. It’s all about dressing accordingly. What you hate, however, is wind. The weather had been sunny and held only a light breeze when you’d left home this morning for work. You often program your washing machine to finish before you get up, in order for the laundry to be hung up or put in the dryer right after. The weather had been so nice, that you’d decided to put it outside today. Something that you very much regret as you look outside the window of your office and see the tree branches moving around like crazy. 

Nothing you can do about it now, unfortunately. 

Some hours later, you make your way home and hope that the silent prayer that you’d sent out to any deity that would listen had been heard, and that your clothes would still be hanging on the line outside. Parking in your usual spot, you quickly get out of the car to run up the porch to your house and enter it. You’re in your backyard a few seconds later and stop mid-stride once your eyes have landed on the clothesline. The empty, except for two shirts, clothesline. 

“Fuck,” you breathe vehemently, as you finally walk closer and retrieve the two items. 

You look around your backyard, over the hedges and fences, but there’s nothing. You curse colorfully while running back inside and throwing the shirts over the back of the couch. What now? Run around the neighborhood in the cold wind and near darkness to find your… You groan as you remember that most of the clothes had been underwear. Because of course. Great, the streets of Pittsburgh currently have your panties decorating other people’s houses, hedges and probably streetlamps. 

“Great. Just great,” you mutter to yourself, as you walk to the kitchen to fix yourself something hot to drink. Running around in the cold had chilled you to the bones. 

You’re leaning against the kitchen island while slowly sipping from a mug, when the doorbell rings, making you jerk in surprise since you’d been deep in thought about what to do next. Putting the mug down, you head to the door and quickly look through the peephole to check on the person on the other side. The sight of your neighbor makes you smile fondly, while you feel warmth heating your neck. 

“BJ, hey,” you smile warmly after opening the door. 

“Hey, neighbor.” BJ returns your smile with one of his own, his hair adorably windswept. 

Your face morphs into one of relief, quickly follow by intense embarrassment as you see what BJ is holding. A large laundry basket filled with your clothes. 

“Found those in my backyard earlier. I think I got everything, but I couldn’t see if something was lying on the other side of the fence.” He holds out the basket for you, and you take it as if on autopilot. 

“Thanks,” you manage to get out, the word sounding slightly strangled. You clear your throat. “Really, thank you. You just saved me from having to go shopping,” you chuckle awkwardly. 

“No problem. That’s what neighbors are for, right?”

You can read the amusement in his eyes at the situation, but he’s clearly holding back in the face of your embarrassment. 

“Want some coffee?” You wave him in with a nod towards the inside of your house. 

“Yeah, sure.” He nods and follows you before closing the door. You put the basket down in the hallway that gives to the living room before turning to BJ and leading him to the kitchen. 

“Gotta admit,” BJ starts as you fill another mug. “I pegged you for more of a DC kinda person, and not Marvel.”  

Startled, you set the coffee pot down while your eyes widen at the statement. You close them and utter a long groan, putting your face in your palms. You uncover your face at BJ’s small laugh, only to school your expression into a fake serious one. 

“What can I say? Frank Castle just does it for me.” You shrug nonchalantly as you think of your Punisher boy shorts. 

BJ chuckles and nods agreeably, thanking you when you hand him the coffee. 

“You saw any others worth mentioning?” You ask, before you realize what you’ve just said, as does BJ considering the way he chokes on the first sip of coffee. 

Shit, what is it with this guy that destroys any filters that you might have? As if the situation isn’t already embarrassing enough. BJ is being sweet about it, only teasing you playfully, and you go and ask whether he liked some of your panties. Especially because you know that you had also put some of your fancier panties into the washer. Only he had chosen to talk about the funnier ones. 

“Do not answer that.” You lift a hand, palm up in a stopping motion, and shake our head. 

BJ clears his throat and turns the mug around a few times in his hands. 

“What if I did?” BJ glances at you from under his lashes, his lip caught between his teeth almost shyly. 

How can this man be that unbearably hot while also being so incredibly sweet at the same time? 

The heat from your face runs through your whole body as his words sink in, and you realize just how close to each other you’re standing. You bite one side of your lower lip and smile gently. 

“I’m listening,” you say lightly. 

To your surprise, color slowly rises to BJ’s face as he looks away and clears his throat. 

“The – uh – the purple ones.” 

You immediately know which ones he’s talking about. They happen to be your favorite. 

“Oh, yeah, they’re… I’m wearing the blue version today, and-” Why would you say this? Why? “I – sorry – I didn’t mean to-”

“No. No, no, it’s fine. I get it. It’s-” BJ chuckles awkwardly. 

“That wasn’t a come on, you know. I just-”

“I know it wasn’t. I shouldn’t have said-”

“Of course, if you wanted it to be a come on, that’s fine with-” Abort. Abort. Shut up. 

“It’s fine, I – What?” 

You clamp your lips together to finally stop your panicked rambling and stare at BJ with wide eyes. 

“Nothing. Never mind,” you barely manage to keep the hysteria out of your small laugh as you begin to walk out of the kitchen. 

BJ catches you by an elbow as you pass him, his grip gentle. 

“What did you say?” He asks softly, as he gets you to face him again, his eyes trying to catch yours. 

“Never mind?” You hedge slowly. 

“Before that?” His hand is still on your arm, his thumb stroking up and down gently. You’re not entirely sure if BJ realizes that he’s doing it. 

You lick your lips and look to the side, while your heart is in your throat. 

“You heard me,” you mumble, losing the courage to repeat yourself. 

BJ’s other hand moves and slowly, tentatively, slides along your jaw and to the back of your head. 

“I did,” he half whispers, before leaning in at a slow pace, giving you the opportunity to back out if you wanted to. 

You don’t. 

You let him close the distance completely, your eyes falling shut at the first press of his lips against yours. Contrary to your rapid fire exchange only moments ago, the kiss is unhurried and soft, his lips sliding gently against yours. He wraps his arms around your waist, while you clutch his sweatshirt to keep him close. He’s the one to moan as your tongue strokes against his once you’ve decided to deepen the kiss. The pace hasn’t quickened, but the sound he just made sends a thrill of tenderness and lust to mix in your belly. BJ Rose is an endless paradox to you. 

BJ ends the kiss with a small press to the side of your mouth and sighs. 

“As much as I wanna keep doing that, Trey’s waiting for me. I told him I’d just be giving you your stuff back.” 

You nod mutely, but send him a small smile. 

“Yeah, of course.” 

You let go of him, while BJ’s arms take a second or two longer to do the same to you. You silently lead him to the entrance door and open it for him. 

“So, I’ll… call you later?” BJ wonders, hands in his pockets and rolling to the balls of his feet and back. 

You nod and bite your lip on a happy smile. 

“Thanks,” you call once he has stepped off your porch. He turns back towards you. “For my… clothes.” 

BJ grins and walks backwards. “One batch. Two batch. Penny and dime.” 

You laugh brightly and watch him go back home. 

@lucy-sky, @slavic-empress tagging you girls since I know you love him too 🧡

[dream-critical]

Idk just think it’s weird that Q hasn’t spoken out 🤷🏾‍♀️. People getting doxxed and mess (from what I’ve seen/ heard mainly Q’s “fandom” (sorry don’t know the right word to use)) for simply just for being excited for the USMP. Like he can’t just tweet “I don’t condone this” or whatever?

Even about the messaging thing. Haven’t MULTIPLE people tried and contact him with no response (besides Karl)? It is weird that a lot of people tried reaching out and not one response back just saying “I’m ok, just don’t wanna talk” or something.

But me personally (who hasn’t had the time to really look into this) I didn’t see it as “drama” I saw it as “hey this is what has been going on, and I’ve seen what has happened to the people in both communities”

Ok so I'm taking this at face value so if I'm interpreting anything you've said wrongly do feel free to correct me. And I'm sorry if my response seems all over the place I just wanted to reply as soon as possible.

I think in general it is unfair to expect quackity to reply. Is it the most emotionally mature thing to do? No absolutely not. And I'm sure he's aware of it as well. Do I think the whole situation is ridiculous? Yeah. Do I think it was the best move on Q's part? Probably not. Do I get why he did that? Also yes.

Anyway, I think that in a situation like this, where dream has said some pretty passive aggressive things about quackity, both on Twitter and on stream even when they were supposedly still friends, looked down on the things quackity has achieved, like with the streamer awards etc, Q actually does not owe dream a response. Replying to the other people who reached out would mean having to actually acknowledge what is going on and it would end with having to talk with dream as now others will have become deeply involved in this mess. And I genuinely do not think that dream is the kind of person that would actually listen to Q if they actually did sit down and talk but that's another conversation.

Dream also is known for ghosting people (like the way ccs on the dsmp couldn't do lore streams bc dream never replied to them etc) so the way he's reacting to this is just hypocritical to me and the way he has handled it is also very childish. He's basically forcing quackity to reply to him through peer pressure and by relying on his fans bothering Q about it it enough that he'll give up on keeping distance. Which also is not an emotionally mature reaction imo.

You're right the whole situation is a mess, I have even seen some people who claimed to be doxxed being proven false, and while I do feel very bad in case there are people that did actually get doxxed and hope they'll be able to move on from it soon, saying that the majority of the doxxers are Quackity stans is untrue as far as I know. Bc I've also seen lots of dream stans spreading misinfo, claiming everyone is suddenly from lktwt, claiming every person critisizing dream is racist.

Arguments about the usmp/qsmp are mainly rooted in the fact that some people get really vile about it and yes I'll admit some people who dislike dream do go a bit far. But at this point the majority of mcyt twt dislikes dream so it isn't just quackity stans.

I have seen people being straight up racist towards quackity bc of it. And perhaps you could argue I'm biased as someone who deeply dislikes dream but I think there's a lot more hostility coming from the usmp side of the argument.

Either way doxxing obviously isn't ok and I don't condone it and I hope everyone that got doxxers is safe and ok.

However I'd also like to add that the only reason this whole usmp Vs qsmp debate has been going on is bc dream couldn't stop mentioning quackity and the qsmp all the time so I'd say dream also has blame in this and I feel he should tweet something denouncing his stans harassing others instead of putting all the blame on someone else since he's so keen on putting pressure on Q.

Also would like to add that no matter what quackity does at this point, things will not change for the better as the situation has been escalated by dream like a lot.