#This is too much and honestly it's goddamn childish

[watchingblsnowandforever]

We Are Ep. 11

Part 2

Hello again!!!

Here's part 1 of this post. It's not necessary to read that, but this does follow directly from there.

Warning: long post 😊😅

And again, we see Phum coming here for no reason but to drop Peem off.

Also, he usually just stayed in the car previously, but now he's walking with Peem all the way.

I reckon we'll be seeing much more of Phum appearing in front of the Fine Arts building for nothing but to drop off or talk to his boyfriend Peem, in a slight reflection of all the times he came here to take Peem off somewhere to make him do something for him.

And I can't wait for it. <3

Q: something very gay is going on here hmm 🤨

Be glad it's Q (who has enough tact to ask you about it in private) and not Toey who'd immediately call y'all out 😭

He played in water all day with Phum and then they cuddled all night. Next question.

Poor Peem 😭

You just confessed you woke up together 😭

And you think someone as smart (most of the times) as Q wouldn't catch on?

[Also, just an observation: Peem is painting a scenery with water here too.]

Beer knows everything. 😌

He's the only one in their combined friend groups with two braincells, and he has no difficulty calling out his friends (Phum) when they're being idiots.

And again 😭

I see it's not your turn with the braincell yet, Peem

Also, the chicken sounds in the background I was dying 😭😂

Phum's backstory was painful to hear, but I kind of expected something like this. It would explain his attachment to plushies, his fear of losing people and behaviour that might seem "childish".

SO CUTE OH MY GODS

Q gives his beloved pencil case to his beloved nong Toey to draw on, and what does Toey do? Make the most adorable doodle of his beloved P'Q 😭👍🏼

Seriously though, this is really good, and it also probably has a beautiful symbolism that I'm too lazy to go into right now 😭

Coming from Q that means a lot. And Toey knows that very well.

Again, what secretly, you're both about as subtle as the glaring sun on a hot summer day.

And it's time you two idiots (affectionate) get your shit together and kiss as boyfriends (gods know you've kissed as... whatever you are right now more times than I can keep count).

Yeah! You're talking nonsense, Phum, it's obvious you fell first!

*sigh* honestly though, at this point, I don't know how, but they managed to be worse than even ChainPun.

Jokes apart, I know they're both a bit insecure, and they didn't get off to the best start. But I hope that in the next ep, they'll realize they're both head over heels for the other and finally start dating.

Also, about time Peem finally accepted Phum as his personal driver <3

That scene in the shop was very sweet too, and most PhumPeem scenes in this ep had me going all gooey and mushy hehe

This show I calling me out 🥲

But I'm even worse because I can only make Maggi (with or without added condiments) 😭

Do y'all see the importance of this moment?!

Phum in the painting studio?!

This painting studio is Peem's safe space, and he's allowing Phum in there willingly.

Slowly, but surely, he's letting Phum in, and starting to accept that yes, this guy is an idiot, but he's an idiot Peem really really likes.

I knew this was coming but that didn't mean I was ready for it 🫣😳

TanFang are absolutely slaying

Love them. <3

This scene is a goddamn masterpiece. It rendered me speechless. What am I supposed to say to that?

Peem's soft little "You did a great job, getting through those times." has me in a chokehold. The nose boop, the kiss- I'm screaming crying rolling around on the bed.

Tried to do a confident walk away but the gate was in his way 😭

Peem is me though, I bump into things like thrice a day at the least.

He- 😶

I gasped at this scene, because you realize what this means right?

This painting, that was ruined due to Phum, that he had to painstakingly repaint while having to obey Phum's whims, this painting that represents his comfort (I don't know shit about art interpretation, but in grade 12 I had friends who'd taken art and I learnt a couple things from them), that represents himself, and in this painting, he adds bright red roses, for the ones that Phum gave him when he was driving him back because he was absolutely wasted, the roses he didn't have the heart to throw out.

And he's drawing these red roses to represent Phum, to show that inexplicably, but undeniably, Phum is a part of his life now; a part he likes enough to embed in one of his most prized paintings (as assumed from various context clues and such along the series). And when he does, he thinks of how Professor Po said "Every work you create contains a piece of you".

If this doesn't show that despite his caustic and sarcastic exterior, Peem is a sappy mushy romantic at heart (he is a Fine Arts student after all), I don't know what does.

This moment felt so poetic (I literally could write a poem about it and it still wouldn't be able to capture the raw beauty and vulnerability and love of this scene.)

Update: I really did write a poem about it 😭

I really like this scene.

Apart from not leaving Kluen hanging, and making sure he knows, this moment is also about Peem admitting to himself aloud, that yes, he does like Phum. He's slowly getting out of De Nile.

He didn't have to say this, but he did. To gently reject Kluen and tell himself that there was no going back now.

Matt: what in the gay chicken-

Toey: ooh this seems interesting. will they kiss? 👀

Poor Chain 😭

Let him enjoy being shipped with his husband bestie!

And all the while these two are having a staring contest to decide who'll tell their friends.

Beer knows exactly what's going on.

This moment is everything to me (other than the one in the painting studio of course).

Peem tried to muster the courage to tell all his friends that he and Phum were... well, more than enemies or friends at least, but he couldn't.

And Phum, my beloved, while more than a little emotionally constipated, he has consistently tried to tell Peem what he feels. And now, he's the one outright saying he likes Peem in front of everyone. He's the one saying "okay, if you can't, I will." And I love him for it. He does it while staring right at Peem too.

Live Reactions of Friends Who Just Found Out that the Guy Who Ruined Other Guy's Painting and The Other Guy, Who Kicked Him In The Balls For It, Have Fallen Victim to the BL Laws and Are Now Very Much In Love.

Beer: knew it 😌

Fang: my little brother?!

Tan: YOU AREN'T SWORN ENEMIES?!

Matt: I have to deal with another couple?? 🥺🥲

Q: I'm not drunk enough to deal with this shit.

Toey: wait... I WAS RIGHT?!!

That freaking cliffhanger though 🥲

It's better now but at the moment I wanted to commit homicide 😭

I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself, Q's "RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD?!" expression is just too hilarious 😭😂

So that's all for ep 11, see you next week!

And if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! 😊

Here, have a burger and some fries ���🍟

[If you want, my previous posts: Ep. 8 Ep.9 Ep.10]

[itsalmostavengers]

Kiss Me, I'm Irish

Steve wasn't sure what made him say it, to be honest. Under most circumstances, he'd seriously like to believe he was better than this.

It was probably a mixture of things. The fact that it had taken him several days and multiple financial bribes by Natasha just to get him to wear the damn thing, for starters. Also the fact that she'd absolutely assured him it would get him out of the 6 month no-sexual-contact slump he'd been in for the last... well.

You can take an educated guess as to how long it'd been.

Anyway. He'd been wearing the ridiculous 'kiss me I'm Irish' shirt for 10 hours of the 24 that made up St. Patrick's Day, and yet still no-one had approached him during that time. Steve was beginning to think that maybe there was just something seriously wrong with his personality.

He'd gone out shopping with the shirt on. He'd had a drink with Bucky wearing this shirt - and yet it was Bucky, somehow, who had managed to get the number off a talkative woman who'd sat alongside them while they'd been sinking their traditional St. Paddy's Day Guinnesses. Not Steve. Bucky hadn't even showered that day, let alone worn something that was begging strangers to throw themselves at him.

Honestly, it wouldn't have bothered him under most circumstances. Steve Rogers was not the kind of man to to get pissy about being overlooked - Lord knows he'd been dealing with it for most of his life before the serum. It was just the fact that Natasha had been so sure it was going to work. She'd gone and gotten him all hopeful for nothing.

He was a humble man - but seriously, he was at a real risk of developing some sort of complex from this, and there was already enough of that in the Avengers already, thank you very much.

It was this, ultimately, that caused his sour mood during the team dinner. And this which also caused him to say what he said.

Bruce had been passing him the garlic bread, as any polite person would do at a dinner setting. He'd noticed Steve was uncharacteristically quiet that night, and Steve hadn't wanted to say that the garlic bread was the wrong brand to what he normally loved, he hadn't wanted to say that there'd been a gnawing, desperate want in him for the last 8-odd months of living in the Avengers Tower, brought about by the constant sight of sharp brown eyes and fast hands and a razor sharp, quick-witted tongue.

So when Bruce had asked him what was wrong, Steve had instead gone for the one thing that seemed easiest:

"I've been wearing this stupid shirt all Goddamn day and no-one has kissed me yet."

It was childish. Uncharacteristic. Steve could see immediately that Bruce regretted even asking - because honestly, how the hell did you even respond to a comment so infantile? And Steve knew that - he knew it as soon as he said it, because he shook his head, cursed his stupid instinctive honesty, and opened his mouth to begin to try and pass it off as a joke. A silly, ironic comment, brought about by too much Asgardian-infused alcohol and mixed with a healthy amount of sexual frustration.

Unfortunately, someone rather important had heard his commentary.

"You've not been kissed all day?" Said Tony from across the room, where he'd just walked through the door. He was wearing a suit, the same way he always did - far too busy to be engaging in St. Patrick's Day nonsense. But his eyes were firmly on Steve, taking in the ridiculous shirt with a small eyebrow raise and an indistinguishable look on his face.

Steve could do nothing but shake his head dejectedly, rolling his eyes and then standing up to go grab some water. Thor's mead had done a bit of a number on him - he was man enough to admit that.

"It's probably for the best," he said. (Sulkily.)

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

The sheer bluntness of Tony's words threw Steve for a loop, if only for a moment. When he glanced behind him, Tony was looking at him downright incredulously.

"Steve," he declared, "if someone like you wears a shirt like that and does not get to at least second base, then it's technically classed as a crime against humanity. I hope you know that."

Steve just shrugged defeatedly. "Go take your case to the International Court of Human Rights then," he muttered, pulling a sip of water from his glass.

There was a moment of quiet. Steve knew he was probably imagining it, but he thought he heard Tony splutter a little bit.

And then, of course - in the way that Tony often did - he had to go and change the course of history forever.

There was a dull thunk as Tony dropped his suitcase at the door. Then the sound of very confident, very determined footsteps. At this point, Steve was still facing the faucet, but once he heard those same footsteps rapidly begin to approach him, he thought it prudent to turn and face them. Call it the soldier in him.

He was met with a faceful of Tony Stark, stalking up to him as if there was some sort of fundamental problem that needed fixing. A glitch in his software that he quite simply could not live with without rectifying.

In a way, it was very Tony.

There was a singular moment where Tony looked at Steve's stupid shirt and paused. Where he considered the implications, just for a moment. But Tony was Tony, and to him, the future was always simply another problem to be solved later,

"I'm sorry," Tony said bluntly, and he sounded slightly raw-edged, like he'd been speaking in meetings for too long or pretending to be someone else just a little too authentically, "but I can't let that injustice go on any longer."

And then, without a moment of hesitation or doubt, Tony curled his fingers around Steve's neck, pulled him in, and kissed him.

Steve had a small, infinitesimal moment of panic where he thought of what was going on - what he was doing with his teammate, with the man he went to war with every other day - but that voice was quickly silenced by the pure, sheer relief that came with kissing Tony Stark. The utter euphoria of feeling his world suddenly slotting into place. This was a puzzle piece that Steve had not even realised was missing until he'd plucked it from under the rug.

Tony kissed like it was the last thing on Earth he'd ever do. His confident fingers wound their way into the short hairs on the back of Steve's head, pushing him further into the confines of Tony's mouth, the dangerous allure of his tongue, Christ, Tony could sure as shit make a kiss work in his favour. His three-piece suit was soft, well-made, but his skin was better. The scratch of his beard was something Steve had fantasised about for months and yet never known until that very second - his eyelashes batted up against Steve's brow bone, his lips were soft and tasted like the coconut moisturiser he always wore.

Steve could only make a small noise of shock, joy, lust, love, in the back of his throat - and then, of course, he was kissing back. His hands moved of their own volition - smoothing down Tony's defined biceps, curling across the small of the other man's back. It took him a huge amount of self-restraint from palming his hand across the taut material that covered Tony's ass.

If this came back to haunt him, Steve could just say the shirt had compelled him. It wasn't his fault. It was, however, the best kiss of Steve's life.

Tony's mouth was masterful - his teeth bit down teasingly against Steve's bottom lip, uncaring of the audience they were keeping in the dining room, unbothered by his own admission of enjoyment, pulled from his mouth in a low, seductive moan. His hands wandered shamelessly. They stroked Steve's shoulders, his jaw, before travelling south, skirting his hips and then settling authoritatively on Steve's ass. Were it any other circumstance, Steve would probably have thought Tony was hypnotised. Or possessed.

But... you know. The shirt.

Eventually, and after a hefty amount of abuse from everyone else at the dinner table, Tony forced himself off Steve's mouth. Admittedly, even he seemed dazed - even if only for a moment before composing himself.

Hands sliding off Steve's body, they quickly adjusted Tony's own suit. He cleared his throat.

"There you go," he declared hoarsely. "Fixed it."

Somewhere to their left, there was a snort of amusement. It was probably Clint. Asshole.

Steve gaped at Tony. "Thanks," he managed to force out. His voice was far, far more strangled than he'd intended it to be.

Tony looked at him for a moment, blinking slowly. He was so unbelievably attractive, and he'd just kissed Steve like that, and for a moment, Steve wondered whether he could just pick Tony up and carry him away to whichever bedroom was closest. He wondered if Tony would let him. Steve had never thought that would be the case, but God... that kiss...

"Anyway," Tony said, just a touch too loud to be casual, "I have to go do... Um. Work. Probably." He nodded, glancing once more at Steve. "Happy Saint Patrick's Day," he said softly.

And then, without another word, he walked off in the direction he'd come.

Steve stared.

Clint, Bruce, Natasha and Thor all groaned.

"Well, I'm sure that's not complicated anything," Clint said mutinously.

[whore-mel]

You slowly wake up. Your head is aching and your throat is sore. You look around. Where the fuck were you..? you're in some kind of basement..

"...w-what.." You mumble confused, you don't remember how you got here....

"Well, good morning, sunshine" A voice suddenly says, cutting off your train of thought. You flinch slightly.

"Who's there!?" You ask panicked.

"Behind you, dumbass."The voice says annoyed. You try to turn around, but then you realize that you're tied to a chair. You're even more confused now.

"I'm..tied to a chair.." you mumble.."Who..Who are you!? Did you kidnap me!?" You say angrily, you're slightly scared. The voice sighs and mocks you.

"'diD yUo kiDnaP m-'. NO, If I was the one who kidnapped you, I wouldn't be tied up too, sweetheart." He says annoyed. He sighs again and slouches slightly, you can feel the back of his head hitting yours.

"And do you seriously not remember me? Maybe it's because I don't have my mask and voice modulator on.." He mumbled. You try to think of who it could be. You don't know, honestly. And your brain ain't helping, you don't remember shit from yesterday.

"Uh..no..who are you?" You ask awkwardly, he sighs in annoyance again. 

"Uh..I can't really say.." He responds..you deadpan, that didn't help much did it..?

"...ok?? Well, do you know how we got here..?" You ask, trying to get something..an answer out of him.

"Yeah! And it was your fuckin fault!" He snapped. You frowned slightly, you didn't even know this man and he's accusing you of getting you both stuck here.

"What!? How is it my fault, asshole!?" You asked, annoyed.

"Well, I was trying to kill you. BUT you-" He starts speaking, but you cut him off.

"WHAT!? What do you mean trying to kill me!?" You gasped, you scowl and try to think about it. Then you remember the first half of last night, getting a call at 2 am. 

"HEY! you're that asshole with the knife! Uh.. ghostface! Fuck you!" You yelled at him. He chuckles and sighs again.

"NO, fuck you for getting us here. I was happily chasing you. BUT THEN you decided to act all brave and run out the house into the forest. And you thought it was a great fucking idea to SCREAM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FOREST late at night, which was really fucking dumb"

He argued back, which did shut you up for a moment. He rolls his eyes, and you stare at the wall Infront of you. Then you smack his head with the back of your head, since y'all are tied back to back.

"OW, The fuck was that for!?" He frowned, and you sighed.

"That didn't explain how I was the one who caused this." You replied with a smirk, kinda happy that you hit him. He mumbles something under his breath.

"Your screaming caused them to notice us and capture us, sweet cheeks" He rolled his eyes. You're now even more confused, and annoyed.

"Who's them..?" You softly asked. He groans and smacks your head with his. You frown.

"You're dumb. But think of the worst person you could imagine." He nods with a smirk. You gasp in shock and horror.

"We were kidnapped by cannibals!?" You screeched (like a pterodactyl, caw caw)

"OW, my fuckin ears, sweet cheeks. Lower that tone. But no. It's worse." He slowly nods again. You gasp once more.

"Is..is it..Satan!? We were kidnapped by the devil!?" You gasped. He sighs, annoyed.

"If I kidnapped us, why would I be tied up, love? Think logically" He shakes his head in annoyance. You deadpan and roll your eyes.

"You're not-"

"YES I AM! IM THE DEVIL!" He yells at you. You didn't even finish the goddamn sentence. You grimaced and sighed.

"Tell me who kidnapped us!" You argued, getting fed up with his childish behavior.

"Fine..we were kidnapped by.."

[gossipgirloff1]

hi, so this will be a long post so sorry about that 😅

but with all the talk about red flagui, i also want to point out some stuff about lando. as a fan, i’ve noticed way more things because i’ve supported him from the start.

one of the first things is just his attitude that can be seen through his choices. like with his merch, it’s so expensive and the shipping fee is crazy, which makes it hard for me to buy his merch. compared to max, his merch is more expensive and he rarely has discounts. he’s changed so much to care about the money, which is also why he moved to monaco after he said previously that he wasn’t going to. i just miss his old ways. like in 2020, he donated money to charity and shaved his goddamn head for charity as well as having quite a few helmets for good causes. i sure don’t see him doing all this goodwill with his money anymore. but now, as he’s getting more attention for being with magew and his behavior, it’s clear to see that the fanbase is turning against him because his new merch collection still hasn’t sold out like it used to (it’s preorder though, so who knows.)

another thing is the way he presents himself. he’s lost that bubbly, energetic attitude from his twitch streams back during quarantine and now he’s hanging out with people like red flagui. honestly, people attract similar people. we all know magew’s problematic past, and i’m sure lando is more than aware, but the fact that he consciously chooses to still be around her is giving me the ick. it’s not even a serious relationship either, it’s probably just fwb or a situationship or something. it’s giving pr attention and honestly, the two of them need to stop acting like they’re the shit. like leaving hints is so childish, and at this point, we’re all moving on to something actually meaningful. the only attention they’re getting is negative and they definitely lack the maturity that people like oscar and lily z have. (sidenote: joao is free!!)

i used to be such a big fan of lando and thought he was genuinely a good person, but after the whole red flagui ordeal, i think we all got the ick from him. and don’t get me started on his childish behavior of unliking anything joao likes. joao’s probably giggling while lando is probably fussing over the smallest things. i know he’s probably still somewhat insecure and stuff, but i’m guessing magew’s heels are higher than his standards. he needs to focus on improving himself (maybe starting with better strategy calls with the team) before he should go out and date. in addition, he’s so rude nowadays, like cutting off poor yuki. i dunno, that just makes me feel so bad for yuki-san. “no one was listening anyways” 😭🤧 like in general, i think he lacks social awareness.

all in all, i think lando cares too much about his “cool playboy” appearance and money. he really just needs to grow up and focus on himself first, because right now, he’s the same as red flagui, almost. they both need to grow up, and lando’s completely forgotten how he used to be, and now he’s so rude and totally different. as a lando fan, it’s so disappointing, especially since he’s been getting good results now. - 🧋

Hi 👋🏻

No problem love to read your thoughts ❤️

[casuallivi]

The Midnight Kiss

from a thoughtful elriel piece, to this silly fest. Me in a nutshell. sorry guys, I could not find a movie reference for this one nailing the date pace killed me, I wanted to be organic, but not boring, but comical, but not too much, and here comes cass/mor screams into the void so here's a pretty pic of breadticks 😬

Enjoy. Comments are welcomed and cherished :)

Part 5: Not the girl you are used to

 “No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“No.”

“Do you honestly believe you can trick me into saying yes?”

Cassian grinned like an idiot, thumb swiftly skating on his phone keyboard, texting God knows who. “You used to fall for that.”

One would think he wasn’t so interest in the conversation, but Azriel knew his brother, could read the tension on his unstoppable tapping feet, the nervous twirl of the watch on his wrist, the childish attempt to beat him by exhaustion. Azriel ignored him. Cass could try all he wanted, but he was not agreeing to this insanity.

Tablet perched on his knee, he continued to work through a selection of garment choices for the winner of the Revelation Designer Award to choose from.

You see, Azriel didn’t believe in unpredictable events, because that would mean he wasn’t prepared for the “incident” happening, and Azriel was always prepared. In order to be ready, he spent a copious amount of time building back-up plans, which had proven to came in had along the years. His, wasn’t the least stressful way of managing a department, but sure was an efficient one. Needless to say he had nearly to none free time. Cassian, on the other hand, seemed to have a lot to spare, deciding to dedicate a part of his day into trying to annoy Azriel to submission.

Azriel had no interested in satisfying his brother’s current itch. A cunning, blond haired itch, who he also had no intention of getting involved with anymore. That’s why he was using this meaningless reunion - more of a one-on-one with his brother - to look through the strongest candidates’ portfolios, selecting D-Day outfits.

“Come one man, you are not thinking this straight. She’s the hottest model these days, runway elite.” Cassian moved forward, pushing a video of Morrigan in Azriel’s face, braving her latest runway in goddamn lacy red lingerie. Her color. Nope, do not go there. “She’ll be a good addition to our catalog.”

Azriel averted his eyes, crossing a giant ‘X’ in the current dress with a little more strength than necessary, the pen scratching the glass. Nope. He’d not be looking either.

“Hiring her for a sporadic shoot is doable, signing an exclusivity contract is dumb, a waste of money. She’s a runaway model, we’d have to compensate her that, pay her contract breaching, pay her even when she’s not working. You are the money man Cass, you know is not worth it.”

“She’s so fucking hot, tho. Trust me when I say she’ll raise our sales. Who wouldn’t want to see a hot girl getting delivery to their home monthly? Hell, I’d sign our magazine.”

"You don't sign our magazine?"

"Why would I sign our magazine?"

Azriel rubbed his forehead, the familiar pressure of a stress-induced headache making itself know.

That’s why his brother managed the money, not the people. The only people he got involved with, were the ones with an ass he was interested in tapping. And that is why he was pushing Azriel to sign an exclusivity contract with Morringan, as if they were a fucking model agency. Cassian might have the CEO position, but thankfully their grandfather left them the same amount of shares. Over his dead body he’d bring Morrigan closer.

“Marinos isn’t about hotness. We are a fashion magazine, Cass. A collection doesn’t sell itself simply by being clothes, is all about how we display them, the ambience, the models. It’s an art of luring the public into seeing themselves in the pages. We have to be diverse, keep it fresh.

“She is fresh!” Cassian argued, leaving his phone on the small table between them, tapping aggressively on the screen, the video rolling. “Look at her. She approaching that milf zone which makes her extra bangable to horny teens.” He held his hands up, palms flat in the air, making the universal sign of a balance. “They enhance their spank bank; we double our sales. It’s a win-win.”

Azriel slapped his brother’s phone face down, his disdain palpable. How Cass could address to someone, who he claimed to be in a serious relationship with, in such a way, was beyond him.

“You are disgusting. And she doesn’t have kids.”

Cassian laughed. “You don’t need kids to be a milf, baby bro,” he enunciated the words as if Azriel was slow. “You only need to be past a women’s prime, which we all know is in her twenties, and still be freakishly hot. Have you seen Mor? Check and check. We like to pretend they are a hot mom without the burden of a bastard running around.” Cassian winked, taking his phone. “Besides, Mor won’t be working much longer. I counting on you to help me make her retirement transition easier.”

Azriel stiffed on his chair.

Morrigan was doing what?

Bubbling laughter erupted from him, tears sliding down the corners of his eyes. Cassian stared at him as if he was insane. My god, he didn't laugh like this in ages. Morrigan would never retire, she loved her job more than life itself. That girl would probably die in a runway, her stone-cold heart finishing its complete transition into a block of ice.

"Are you having a stroke?" Cassin asked, confused.

“Did she tell you that? Did she say she was retiring?”

“She doesn’t have to tell everything, baby bro. Her man knowns.” Her man thought he leashed the untamable Morrigan. Her man knew shit. “She’s turning 34 soon,” Azriel knew that already, they were the same age, “it’s time.”

"Time for what?"

"For her retirement."

“You are so full of shit. Morrigan won't retire, she loves her job.” It’s the only thing she loves. “She won’t quit. She’ll never quit.”

Cassian slouched on the chair, spreading his legs to assert dominance.

“You are full of opinions about Mor today.”

“We were childhood friends. I believe I can judge her inability to drop her career for a man.”

The brothers have met Morrigan when they first moved to America to live with their grandparents. Their grandma quickly pairing Mor and Azriel in the same classes and extracurricular activities. Cassian was around too, but didn’t had much interest for the younger girl in pigtails running around with his brother. She sure had his attention now, wheater she liked it or not.

“Trust me, Mor is settling down. She has a man now, a provider, no need to tire herself crossing the globe all year long. Don’t give me that face. I’m telling you how man thinks.”

“I am a man.” Azriel stressed.

“You are, aren’t you. For a second there I had my doubts.” Cassian mused, remembering how he caught his brother getting cozy with Elain inside the elevator, their ride from hell…

Cassian scratched his stubble, contemplating the recent changes in Azriel's behavior.

His stoic brother, who could not get along with any women introduced to him, scaring them away with his blunt remarks and cold indifference, had been uncharacteristically catering to the girl who used to eye-fuck Cassian from across the room, giving him sunny smiles and entertaining him with dirty jokes. Now her looks where few and further apart, Elain hiding her snort behind her hand instead of giving him a full belly laughter, avoid responding to his innuendos with something dirtier, as she usually would. An unexplainable queasiness twisted in his stomach.

“Speaking of being a man. You and Lainy,”

"Elain.” Azriel corrected with annoyance. “Her name is Elain, not this ridiculous nasal stretch you do.”

“You and Lainy are close now, huh.” Cassian repeated the nickname to spite him, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the arm rest. “Close enough for you to take her home… mouth fuck under the moonlight...”

“Jesus Christ.” Azriel rubbed his face, wishing to be anywhere but here. “Your vocabulary is superb Cass, keep it up.”

“What? You were the one dry humping the girl in front of everyone.”

“No one was dry humping, your sick fuck. I don’t know what you do in your relationship, but us, normal folks, we can kiss for the sake of it, no hidden agenda.” Azriel was not cut out for the lifestyle his brother led. To kiss and bed anyone without knowing where their mouths and body might have been before? No thank you. Hard pass.

“You seriously dating the girl?” Azriel nodded, once. Cassian snorted. “Bullshit. I never saw you with a single girlfriend.”

Azriel watched his brother, his restless hand. His brow furrowed. Were Cassian and Elain closer than he anticipated? He knew they were friends, but this. This was something else.

“I didn’t see you either, now look at you.” He eyed the shinning gold band on his brother finger. A commitment ring. Ten years and he couldn’t get Mor to even address him as her fucking boyfriend, but one month was apparently enough to date his brother and get a ring stuck in her finger. Her words, not his.

“People will notice.”

“Say it a regular ring. I’ll get you an inconspicuous one.”

“I can’t have a ring constantly stuck in my finger, Az, it will give me tan lines. People will notice.”

“It’s different. I’m chick magnet, didn’t had a girlfriend by choice, fucked plenty of them, tho." His smug was presumptuous. "You, on the other hand, I never saw you with anyone. Why now? Why her?”

Because Elain is capable of shutting my mind down, she rambles so much I can’t hear myself thinking, can’t think about girls I shouldn’t be thinking. Because Elain made a crazy suggestion when I needed a light. Because Elain is the first woman I enjoyed kissing in a long time. Because Elain doesn’t make me hate myself. Because I want to live like a normal man being loved by a normal woman.

Azriel didn’t voiced the answers. None of them were for his brother’s peace of mind. His deal with Elain was private, there was no need to explain the reasons that bound them to Cass.

“You are awfully interested in my girlfriend.”

“Can you blame me? We figured you’d be coming out of the closet any day now. Then puff, you appear with a girlfriend.”

Azriel glared at him.

“I’ve told you, I’m not gay.”

“Well, now I know that. Cousin Rhys will be thrilled to know he won.”

“You and Rhys made a bet on me?" Cassian grinned. "Assholes.”

Hell yeah he bet on him. Azriel had always been a weird kid, full of don’t-touch-me, all worried about wrinkles on his clothes. Plus, the fact that never introduced a single girl to them, never talked about hook up, or dates, or dalliances of any kind was very suspicious. Cassian sat straighter in his chair, an idea occurring to him.

“Wait. Is this one of those fake-dating situations? You and Rhys working together?”

Okay, Azriel had enough. His brother had nothing of important to discuss, and he had a lot of work to do. He collected his things and got up.

“Damn, little Lainy sure is a good actress. I didn’t know she had it in her.”

Azriel flipped his brother on his way out.

.

.

.

“Marino. For two.”

The girl behind the small reception desk checked her system, confirming Azriel’s reservation.

“Follow me, please.”

Elain and Azriel walked behind the petite receptionist as they quietly moved between the tables filled with families, co-workers, friends, couples. Elain looked down to their joined hands. Azriel had taken a hold of hers soon as they were out of the car, Elain stopping dead in her track.

“What are you doing?”

“Building intimacy.”

“Over here.” The girl lead them to a round table by the window.

Tall framed glass from floor to ceiling, gave them a perfect view of the garden where the structure was built around, a magnificent fountain shooting jets in the sky, water lilies floating unbothered. Azriel pulled her chair and Elain sat down, nervous butterflies beat their wings desperately in her stomach, trying to break free. The girl gave them a set of menus, politely explaining that a waitress would take over.

Elain glanced discreetly at the other tables, trying to figure if theirs was the only one without breadsticks or if this place was too fancy to give them free munchables.

“What?” Azriel asked, following her gaze.

“Breadsticks,” she muttered.

She must have given him glutton vibes, because his eyes crinkled with amusement.

“We can order some if you’d like.”

"You a regular?" He shook his head.

"First timer. Didn't seem appropriate to take you to places I know." Did he want to keep her like a dirty little secret? Would you look at that. Elain was opening her mouth when he said, "I don't want us to make memories in soiled land. I rather start fresh, just you and I."

Elain closed her mouth. Oh, that's actually thoughtful. Her ears pinked on the tips, Azriel returning his eyes to the menu, thick black lashes nearly brushing his cheeks. Elain spied his new haircut, the slight fade on the sides making the perfect shape of his ears stand out, the glossy waves on top combed back in a stylish manner.  He looked particularly handsome tonight, reading the menu with the same keen attention he’d give to a report, as if analyzing steak options required a minuntious evaluation of each option presented. Elain got so lost studying him that when the waitress came, she was yet to choose an option.

Azriel made his order with mastery, adding a bottle of wine by the year. Elain was impressed. She generally chose her wine by category; red or white. She fumbled with the menu, grieving at the lack of breadstick or fries. The waitress took pity on her, helping her though the most requested dishes, asking for her preferences in meat, finding her the perfect dish to order.  

When she was gone, Azriel said.

“I booked us a hotel.”

Elain gasped exaggeratedly, wrapping her arms around her chest in a fake show of modesty. “How dare you? I’ve told you I’ll marry a virgin!”

The table beside their, containing what appear to be a squad of girlfriends in a night out, threw them suspicious glances, whispering heatedly amongst themselves. Azriel rolled his eyes.

“For the RD Award.” He reminded her. Elain needed no remind, she knew exactly what he meant, and she had no interest in it right now.

“Noooooo.” she let out a long-suffering whine, making him frown.

“Did you want to do that?”

“Don’t talk to me, I’m in mourning.” She used the napkin in her lap to dab the corners of her eyes, fake hiccups to match her fake tear. “I can’t believe I’m dating a man who talks about work on a night out. Lord, why have you forsaken me!”

A couple of snickers could be heard from the next table. Azriel rubbed his neck to mask his embarrassment, because her taunt was reasonable. He’d done it out of habit, used to interact with Elain in work related matters.

Despite is energetic disposition when it came to fashion, Azriel was an introvert who didn’t have much interest in anything else. In the past decade his life could be resumed in two things: Marinos and her. Azriel didn’t like people, didn’t have many friends, didn’t left his house unless he was working, didn’t travel unless he wanted to see her. After having to spend five days a week interacting with his employees, giving orders, creating back-up plans, correcting mistakes and solving endless problems, Azriel was perfectly fine spending his free time napping, eating home-made food, nursing a glass while a documentary rolled on the tv. It's how he recharged his energy. And for the dating department…

Truth be told, Azriel was a little rusty on the dating department. On the rare dates he agreed to go, he didn’t have to speak much, the women pretty content in talking about themselves, batting their lashes at him, intrigued by his silence, which they interpreted as a bad boy persona. They've read him wrong. Azriel wasn’t a bad boy, he didn’t have spare energy to invest in being one. Most times he was simple exhausted, uninterested, heartbroken, trying to distract himself to not think about her, trying to forget the woman who wasn’t a good parameter for quality time either.

Her name still caused him pain.

Mor.

He avoided using it, addressing her by the full name when necessary.

When he was with her, he was her secret, and he had to remain just that, a secret. Back them Azriel did lots of confidential encounters, last minute trips to where she’d be modeling, booking extravagant hotels for the pleasure of her company, appealing to secluded resorts if he wanted to see her outside a room, because their outings consisted in gathering with her friends, fund raisings and galas. Non-committal events that wouldn't put her in a spot she didn't want, because God forbid they were out, let’s say, enjoying a good meal, and someone spotted them.

“Now is not the time. My sponsors don’t like this kind of public attention. You know how prissy they are.”

“I’ve signed a no-dating clause, Az. I’ve told you that.”

“Please, please take me back. I won’t sign the clauses anymore, I’ll demand freedom in my personal life. I’m famous now, they have to listen to me!”

“Stop pressuring me! You are making me look like a villain. Look at everything I’ve done for you! They could sue me for being with you. Is that what you want? For me to be sue? Shunned from the spotlight?!”

“I’m sorry, Az. I’m really sorry. I don’t want it anymore; I don’t want to be a model if I can’t have you. I love you. You are my life.”

Elain rapped her knuckles gently on the table, giving him a worried look.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked gently.

Azriel sipped his water.

“That you are correct.”

Elain doubted. His expression had turned a little wistful, his shoulders sagging slightly. She decided not to comment on it, taking his lead to move the subject forward.

Azriel watched Elain sat higher in her chair, smugness pouring out of her. “That’s usually the case, but I’m glad you are finally admitting.” Her napkin went back to her lap. "Keep that energy when you wake up in the morning."

Azriel chuckled.

In the past, Azriel had judged Elain an airhead. Her eccentric persona and taste for crude jokes was far to similar to his brother’s, who couldn’t read the room to save his life. Cassian though himself the guru of flirting, but his inappropriate conducts had often rendered complains, Azriel having to arrange anti-harassment lectures to please the chief of HR. Azriel thought Cass would outgrow this childish fascination with making people uncomfortable as he grow older. He thought wrong. Turns out age was nothing but fuel to his shameless brother.

That’s why Azriel was instantly peeved with Elain, who strolled in his life with swaggering confidence and a sharp remark for everything, deeming her a female version of the brother who gave him constant headaches. Azriel was wrong again, but this time he was please to be. Now the paid her more attention, Azriel noticed Elain didn’t carry the same arrogant obliviousness as Cass. She was witty, outspoken, brazen even, having no problem in standing up to herself or what she believed, but she only joked around those closer to her, using her humor to make people at ease, to let them know she cared for them.

Sparkling chocolate eyes smiled at him.

Empathy wasn’t something Azriel was used to. It made him lightheaded.

Elain watched Azriel place one hand on top of the table, palm up, wiggling his long sumptuous fingers at her, the bronzed moisturized skin gleaming under the fluorescent lights. “Have I told you how lovely you look today?”

The word “lovely” coming out of his sinuous lips was enough to have her heart doing cartwheels. Her heart was a tramp. The useless lump of overly excited muscle had no business trying to beat out of her chest when Elain had put an extra effort in her appearance today. Gone were her everyday jeans and t-shirt, replaced by an elegant sage lily dress, the elastic ruched fabric ending with small ruffles around her knees, her pearl colored flats matching the pearl clips keeping her curls behind her ears, small sparkling dot adorning them.

Elain planted her palm in his. “Are you implying I don’t look lovely on the other days?”

“Would you drop dead if you spent a day of your life without contradicting me?” His voice lacked the usually annoyed undertone, his thumb tracing the path of her knuckles.

“Guess you’ll never find out.”

Elain put her free hand down as he had done, asking for his other hand, mimicking the strokes he gave her. Damn, this man’s hands were smooth as a baby bottom!.. is the rest of him this soft? Her thoughts slipped in a dirty tangent.

“I like your shirt.” The material of his dress shirt stretched comfortably over his chest, draping over his powerful arms, to end carefully folded around his elbows, leaving his forearms bare in a way he rarely did. The last time she had seen him sporting such a casual disposition, he stole her breath away. Literally. Elain licked her lips, her voice lower. “Black looks good on you.”

His lips tugged in the corner. “It is my color.”

“It is," she agreed in a daze

A tranquil atmosphere settled over them.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Mmh.”

“I'm glad I kissed you.”

Now she was full on blushing, her cheeks growing incredibly hot, especially when he lifted her hand to his face and kiss her palm. So, Elain did what she do best to mask embarrassment. She cracked a joke.

“My, my. I didn’t know you had it so bad. Tell me mister, how long have you been in love with me?”

“I’m not.” Azriel kissed her other palm, his gaze so intense she squirmed in her chair. Under the artificial light his eyes were all hazel, the fleeks of green hiding, waiting for the sunlight to unravel. “But I intend to be.”

[skeletood]

OHHHHH SO MANY THOUGHTS TO SHARE

Holy shit. Probably the hardest I’ve laughed at any of the new seasons releases so far. Absolutely speechless

Hellhole:

- SOOOOO HAPPY to see them riff again it’s so corny and silly

- Beavis gets to hell and his first thought is where all the biker dudes are? interesting interesting *puts this in my notes

-oh my god already some amazing facial expressions

no wonder this dude ends up with so many cracked teeth in the future

- the boys being inexplicably immune to death never gets old to me

- THE DARKNESS PART HAD MY HEAD IN MY HANDS SHUT UP. THANK **GOD** IT WASN’T ANOTHER ESCAPED SNAKE SITUATION DEAR GOD IVE NEVER BEEN HAPPIER FOR A BAIT AND SWITCH

-hehe :] sillies

Overall thoughts: Another great ep this season good job guys, gave me a lot of good little laughs

The video segment was whatever but Arianna’s eye candy so like. All good :]

Take A Bow:

My god. I had absolutely no idea what was going to happen on the way in to this episode and I was NOT prepared for what it gave me and put me through

- already starting the ep strong with some GREAT facial expressions

so fucking real i used to do this to my guy friends when i was their age. not quite enough to put them in the hospital but like. yea lmao

- (monotone) “Take a bow” HAD ME DYINNNNGGGGG

- knowing about all the flavors of mountain dew what a goddamn nerd (knows everything about the different monster flavors)

- “Cherries don’t taste red at ALL. They taste all barfy” little kids complaining about foods they dont like is so silly, thank you for being your childish self its so refreshing

oh man. fuck. its butthead characterization time! finally some good fucking food. oh man here come the waterworks IMAGINE me getting stupid over an emotionally stunted idiot with a big head:

- “not until youre better beavis” first of all shut up. second of all shut up.

- “It’s like, I didn’t mean to hurt him. Feeling bad sucks.” WE KNOW BABY. WE KNOW. SO PROUD OF YOU FOR ADMITTING IT HUN :((((( the fact that bro cant even acknowledge he HAS feelings unless he’s alone. the volumes that speaks to me. man

if you had told me a week ago these were real screenoshots i wouldnt have believed you. at all. cant wait to see the looks on the faces of all the “ohh stop looking so far into it its just a stupid lowbrow cartoon” people like shut the fuck up!!!!! youve clearly never experienced real friendship before and are so pissed off cause u dont know what it looks like

- not pictured here is where they had to forcefully remove butthead from the room bc he was freaking out after thinking he killed beavis. If you disagree youre just wrong sorry!

- not only is this a funny as hell angle but man. we already know damn well he doesn’t want beavis to die but its nice to hear him say it. also he’s right, it was really funny. take a bow :]

- a lot of really good beavis screams this episode too

- BOY. HOW DO YOU KNOW WHAT “COVID” IS. MR JUDGE IM STRIKING THAT FROM THE RECORDS BUT YOURE ON THIN FUCKING ICE AKJSDSNA

- “-and his friend would have died of grief shortly there-after” I’m- I need a minute. LIKE WE ALREADY KNEW THIS BUT. THANKS FOR ADMITTING IT. 

- also, god is a whiteman i guess kasjndsajkd

In conclusion: both fucking great episodes. I am always EXTRA excited for Butt-Head characterization moments, it just makes him so much more human. Not to mention how happy I am to see that they toned down his cruelty JUST a touch. I honestly didn’t notice how bad it had gotten last season until i compared it to how this one is going so far, it feels more like older seasons butthead again :] Like dont get me wrong i LOVE it when he’s mean its just who he is but it should come more out of a place of stupidity/no real self awareness than like. idk wherever it was coming from last season. These boys are goin soft on us and to that i say: thank god. It’s nice to see them act human. Take a bow has EASILY taken old man beavis’ place as my favorite ep so far and ngl its going to be tough to beat. Funny episode that had me chuckling throughout the whole thing AND nice Butt-Head moments? Oh Mike, you shouldnt have u///u

Anyways lemme know your thoughts :]

[sukehiroselei]

YAMICHAR in the final arc

At the end of the day, this blog is still dedicated to Yami and Charlotte. So of course everything that's happening in the story, I'm gonna relate it somehow to my OTP of OTPs. Some possibilities that I think could happen during the final arc, in order of best-case to worst-case scenarios:

1. Yami and Charlotte are totally fine, indestructible, and kick paladin ass together.

The best I can hope for as a shipper is that they somehow avoid the raging death flags and manage to win, together, then finally have that adult conversation over tea about what it is they've got going on.

They fight together like they did during the Elf arc, except this time it's much better since Charlotte will be in full-control of her body. We get proper development of their relationship during battle, either Yami surpassing his limits because her life is in danger, or Charlotte overcoming her insecurities about not being strong enough to stand by him, because goddamn it, they're knocking paladins left and right, showing these knights how it's done (or both, honestly?).

I want Charlotte to unlock the full extent of her powers, realizing that loving someone isn't a sign of weakness, but is a source of strength. Watching Yami fight his hardest because he loves his squad finally gets her to see what it is that makes him so strong, and it's because of his heart. That in spite of the pain he's faced in his life, Yami chooses to love the people who matter to him—it just so happens that his love language is kicking the asses of those who hurt the people he cares about.

Best-best case scenario??? A kiss. But that's just never gonna happen now ahaha.

2. Yami turns into a monster

There's something about that devil heart... Tabata wouldn't have put it there if it isn't important, right? And Yami being a punching bag key character of the series, there has to be a breaking point.

This man's entire life has been a tragedy. He had an abusive father, a sister who was coerced into killing his family and then choosing to shoulder the blame on her behalf, washing ashore on a strange country then being treated with racism, looked down on by members of society in spite of his achievements; now slowly losing the people he loves....

No wonder this man has so many vices. I'd be super stressed too, if this was my life. It's honestly a wonder how Yami's worst habit is just smoking??

So yeah, this seems most likely to me rn. I feel like this development would absolutely destroy Asta. That this world is so broken that even the seemingly infallible Captain Yami has fallen victim to it. Also, the role reversal in the Elf arc would be interesting; Charlotte trying to get Yami to snap out of it along with the Black Bulls? What a scrumptious idea.

3. They both die

Now listen, this isn't my favourite outcome, but it's still not as bad as the next one. If both of them die, I'd of course be devastated, but at least neither one has to live the rest of their life alone & wondering what could have been.

To me, it would be better to face death with hands adjoined than to be left pining for a ghost, especially if it was Charlotte who survives and not Yami. That would just be beyond cruel, I think. But this is of course, my personal opinion.

4. One of them dies

I love a good angsty fic, but I would absolutely be crushed if only one of them dies. Sorry if people think that this is childish. I think if BC had established itself as a manga with high stakes from the get-go, then I would kind of understand, but one of the things I liked about the series is the minimal-amount of deaths so far?? Idk.... I'm just fiercely protective of my fav characters (and I honestly love a lot of them). So yeah, either Yami or Char dying would leave a bad taste in my mouth.

I would also like to add that Charlotte dying to spur Yami's devil heart transformation would absolutely be a worst-case scenario for me. We've built her character up for so long and then at the end she becomes fodder for one of the male protags??? I'd be livid lol

Bonus Super Duper Crack Theory That Has A 0.00001% Chance Of Happening:

When Charlotte and Yami had dinner to discuss her curse, she said that 'The curse had altered the shape of her soul'. And her being cursed has hindered her from fully mastering her magic.

Additionally, it was explained that all curses are born from Megicula. In her fight, she had combined the knowledge of magic runes from the Heart Kingdom to modify her curse, allowing her to wield both blue and red roses.

We also know that Lucius's power involves the transformation of souls. He explains that 'The soul is the source of human life, spirit, and magic.' He can manipulate someone's soul and implant directives that they cannot disobey. BUT we did see that Sister Lily's resolve falters as she fights against Asta, so Lucius's magic isn't as infallible as he believes it to be. Therefore, his magic can be negated by anti-magic OR by strong emotion.

So what the hell am I rambling on about? Well, what if Charlotte becomes a devil along with Yami? Would Lucius's magic work on her, as her soul has already been affected by another devil (Megicula)? Being cursed changed the quality of her magic, yet in the Spade arc, Charlotte was able to work around a spell that altered her damn SOUL. I think it would be pretty sick for Charlotte to fully embrace the darkness of the devil's curse on her metaphorical heart. Plus, you know, Devil!Yami and Devil!Charlotte kicking "angel" ass is sexy to think about.

[adultswim2021]

Space Ghost Week

Space Ghost Coast to Coast #61: “Cahill” | August 28, 1998 | S05E04

Thank god for my Space Ghost Coast to Coast Volume 4 DVD. I bought you for a song back in 2007, and you’re not just a potential source for 200 dollars on eBay for me. You are also slightly more convenient to throw on than torrenting the episode and putting it on my Plex server is. 

Yet another episode with a “Waiting” title card and a cold open in the commissary. Shaking my damn-ass head. I really dislike this cold open. Space Ghost utters the line “Storm’s a ‘comin’” which is a perfectly fine way to set up this episode where a storm does indeed a come. But the rest of it is wacky non-sequiturs, like Moltar talking about eating Jello, and a cut away from the theme song to Space Ghost saying “I got a monkey”. Honestly, “I got a monkey” is a strong contender for least-favorite moment in the entire series. It’s especially childish and grating to me.

Speaking of writing, this one has three writers credited: Mike Lazzo, Ben Karlin (who wrote a small handful of previous episodes), and Brian Posehn from Mr. Show. I misremembered this being solely credited to Posehn. Brian is a lovely guy, so I’m glad that we can all pretend he didn’t write the stuff I didn’t like.

I do like this episode, I promise, but it’s far from a favorite. It’s a fairly normal episode, except there’s a running joke that Space Ghost is extremely afraid of lightning while an intimidating and gloomy storm breaks out. That whole element makes the episode a nice mood piece, and adds legitimate production value and humor to the show. It’s one of those things that makes Space Ghost be Space Ghost.

Space Ghost attempts to interview absolute legend Garret Morris, who is fucking hilarious in this. He might be the only original SNL cast member that got funnier with age. Dying of drugs, dying of cancer, sexually assaulting a young woman on a movie set while ironically observing Covid-19 protocols, selling vodka in a glass skull, screaming at Dan Harmon via voicemail, primarily doing voice work, and Kate & Allie are all funny in their own ways, I suppose. But Morris is one charming mother fucker and he out-charms all those bozos. Even George Coe. Even Don Novello!

Meanwhile, Moltar has meteorologist NOT AL ROKER, I’M NOT RACIST AND KNEW RIGHT AWAY THAT IT WASN’T HIM, I mean, Mark McEwen in his control room. Space Ghost is too scared of the lightening and forgets about him, basically, but Moltar has a great time with him. They have an awkward chemistry. Moltar seems like he has a bit of a man-crush on him. It’s cute stuff. Sample dialogue: 

Moltar: I would never blame you. Mark McEwen (doing an Elvis impression): Thank you very much big guy. Moltar: I’m totally serious. (awkward silence)

Speaking of Moltar being cute: there is a line in this where Moltar is reading meteorology jargon from a book and sorta fumbling over the words “Microinductor dyloptiloid” it and then sardonically adds “not a word I use everyday”. I’m genuinely not sure if that’s a written joke or if they are honoring their tradition of including improv and outtakes as if it’s written dialogue. In a script it would stick out, but it does feel like one of those moments even if it’s not. Another moment, where Space Ghost says “Is there anything more funny than somebody just drastically white trying to speak colloquial hood?” also feels blurry to me. It seems like some stock thing George Lowe would say as an actual conversation starter that was captured while he was going off-book.

One of the lesser episodes of the season, but goddamn there’s some good stuff in it.

MAIL BAG

hey kimosabe. the lewis lectures still rock my world. Any chance of bringing those dogs out of the kennel now that lazzo is gone?

Um... (theatrically) don’t look at me!

from prince-moth-mothy-moth-moth:

just found out about your page as i'm rewatching sgc2c, literally in the middle of season 5 right now, ha! looking forward to seeing your thoughts on Cahill, feels like one they had a lot of fun making

Garret Morris’ interview must’ve been so great to conduct. They must’ve been aware that they were capturing lightning that day. I hope my relatively lukewarm review didn’t disappoint too bad.

also from: prince-moth-mothy-moth-moth 

also im guessing you'll probably cover Dinner With Steven at the end of the 98 episodes?

Wasn’t planning on that in particular! Seemed like a thing to watch in preperation for covering “Snatch” next season. But I might change my mind. Generally I don’t sweat covering the Space Ghost ephemera too much because when I do Space Ghost Week it’s on an accelerated schedule. But more and more I’ve been thinking how there should be a concentrated effort to preserve all that stuff in some kind of shareable archive. At the very least I should start a spreadsheet.

[impossible-possible]

"Like I get that my family has a lot of money and has other things that your boss wants... but isn't this a bit much?"

Although how in the world she was casually reading a book in the middle of all this was anyone's guess... I'd suppose wondering where she had that book in the first place was even more so.

Like... how can she be so... casual about it?

(Might as well annoy Shego a bit)

“What? Me doing my goddamn job? Which, I remind you, is technically what everyone else is doing, too?” Shego sassed the other in return, giving them a challenging stare. “Do you think putting up with Drakken and his honestly childish plans is any fun?”

She kept the stare for a little longer before she went on. “Take this up with him if he did you dirty. I am not the person you’re looking for here. I only get paid to follow him around and do what he says. Not to listen to complains. The box for ’em is over there, mail us a letter.”

And she goes back to perusing the manual for her gadget.

@enigmaincrimson

[strangeracrossthestreet]

That one pervasive theme, what is it doing here?

Arcane Season 2 Episode 9 and "Forgiveness"

Going to be very disjointed bear with me:

My goodness did "Forgiveness" just get shoved down our throat for these entire 3 episodes. It felt extremely heavy handed and lowkey sinister beyond just my general dislike of "forgiveness" being given this all important role.

Does it work on a character level? For Ekko and Jinx, perhaps.

But the rest?

What does it tell me? That the oppressed should just forgive and forget. They were shackling themselves with their poor little emotions, don't they see? There's a bigger enemy out there, so just, help Piltover out, yeah? They graciously allow it, no, they're even begging!

There being a Big Threat (be it Ambessa or Viktor) undermines this entire ending (and this godforsaken Forgiveness peddling) in it's entirety because it shows that the ONLY reason Piltover is "stooping" to begging Zaun for help is because they themselves are under threat!

Showing Enforcers pushing down checkpoint walls and letting Zaunites past the bridge being backed by emotional music is insulting. "Look how much Piltover has changed!" it's trying to scream, but I see no change, only self-service.

That one moment of Jinx hallucinating Silco talking about "breaking the cycle"? Like, I'm sorry, but what exactly is Arcane trying to tell us here? Why is breaking the cycle being put on Zaun's shoulders here, hello? Why is she the one getting this kind of scene?

(The whole 'Jinx is Zaun's Hero' thing was so forced too. Like just let the girl go off on her own, goddamn. What was the point of her lamenting that Vi and Silco both always nagged her do what they wanted. Why is she suddenly caring about being Zaun's Hero and about Zaun's legacy? Wasn't that Vi's thing? Oh wait no, Vi ceased being a character after she met Caitlyn.)

Honestly it all felt very childish in its execution. Philosophy also just gets thrown around left and right (Viktor please stop talking for one second-) and then it gets answered with the blandest possible "Humanity is imperfect and that's what makes it beautiful". Like where is this entire thing even coming from? Combine THAT with the aforementioned "Forgiveness" and it paints an unflattering picture in my head.

In the end Zaun doesn't become its own nation. The council remains, only this time Sevika gets the "privilege" of being part of it. 7 to 1, what amazing odds. What amazing ""progress.""

In the end Zaun is still subservient to Piltover's whims and I have been given no reason to believe they will treat the Undercity any better seeing as Jayce is dead, Caitlyn doesn't appear to be part of the Council, and Mel is leaving to Noxus (for some reason.) Why did Scar and Ekko not have seats as well? Why? Why why why.

This is not a triumph, this is not hopeful in any measure despite Caitlyn's monologue, and background music, trying its best to tell me that it is. Despite Caitlyn going on about "continuing the fight."

Season 1's ending on it's own, as unambiguous as Season 2 is trying to be, was great! It's characters did what they set out to do and the season ended. Boom, done. It was a fantastic stand-alone. It was tragic! It was satisfying!

This was anything but.

[reallygrossstuff]

hm. well, imo, susie pamps are best either when she's suddenly forced into them, or when she already wore them and it's a new thing- but you could also try her willingly putting them on along with/for someone, or her diapers already being known about and her being the one teased for once

That isn't fair anon, you can't give me so many different story hooks in one ask and expect me to pick one. I mean, I did, but it was hard when I wanted to write every option you gave me. I hope you enjoy, and please keep writing in! Even if you don't have other requests, I like chatting with people that like similar things.

Even among friends, Susie was prone to being a bully. She refused to sand her rough edges down for anyone, often bringing up things to either upset or embarrass whoever she was talking to. It likely would’ve made any friendship between her and Kris impossible, had Kris not discovered a very effective reset button for the girl’s ego.

At school and around Hometown, Susie’s baggy jeans and long jacket never gave the impression of hiding anything, but it was a different story in the Dark World. With her vest only just long enough to reach her belt, it was obvious the moment she walked anywhere that she was absolutely wearing a diaper under her pants.

She’d tried to deny it - all the way to Castle Town, impressively - but there were only so many ways to deny something everyone within five feet could see and hear, and by the time Lancer had made his dramatic entrance and exit, she’d come clean about her situation.

“I just didn’t learn some stuff other kids did, okay? Or at least, I was taking a while, so I gave up.” Assuming something from the looks they and Ralsei were giving her, she then snapped, “Don’t think this lets you call me stupid or any crap! I’ll bite your goddamn face off if you do!”

Kris didn’t call Susie stupid for it; the thought never occurred to them.

They did bring it up often, though.

While it certainly didn’t defuse Susie, often causing her temper to flare even moreso, she could be consistently broken from whatever bullying she was doing by a pointed comment about her situation. Simply calling her childish or immature was enough for most situations, but Kris drew some quiet satisfaction from asking if Susie was ill-tempered because she needed a change, and watching as she was reduced to wordless noises of frustration, the many threats she wanted to make against Kris’ person presumably clogging her throat too much for words.

It was a lot easier to put up with Susie, with this strategy in mind. She went from being a cruel bully to seeming more like a puffed-up brat, annoying at moments but easily deflated before anything awful happened, and honestly pretty funny to mess with in those moments.

Now, a day after the initial discovery and with Susie seemingly more willing to put up with Kris, the whole thing had started to feel like an in-joke, albeit one that made Susie’s shoulders hunch as she tried to hide behind her fringe.

Which was why it was surprising when Susie reacted so strongly this time.

Having just finished the pottery maze, Susie was behaving the way that Kris honestly wanted to themself, methodically smashing every pot in the room into fine powder. She hadn’t even been the one carrying the pot on her head, but Kris wasn’t about to point that out.

Ralsei, however, seemed to think differently. Standing well clear of any flying shards, he commented, “Gosh, you’re really angry, aren’t you, Susie? Is it because you need a change?”

Susie’s head turned so fast Kris could almost hear the whip-crack noise. “What?! No! Don’t say crap like that!” Her face was as red as they’d ever seen it get, and quickly she turned to smash up another pot.

Kris frowned, rolling Susie’s words and attitude around in their head. She hadn’t outright yelled at either Kris or Ralsei for suggesting that all day, taking that particular comment on the chin, so why did it seem to get to her now?

Wait... no way...

“Susie,” Kris spoke slowly, making sure their voice carried over the loud shattering sounds, “do you actually need a...?”

“I just said I didn’t! Lay off it!” Gnashing her teeth, Susie stomped on the next pot rapidly, reducing it to dust beneath her boot in a matter of seconds. “Grahh, forget this! Let’s keep going.”

“But Susie,” Ralsei stepped in front of her as she tried to move out of the room, “remember what I said? It’s okay if you need help sometimes too! So you can tell us if you need your diaper changed, since we’re friends, right?”

Ralsei was the best. Kris knew he was saying this with only the purest intentions, and they knew Susie knew that too, which was clearly its own level of torment for her. “I - I know, okay Ralsei?” She replied, lowering her voice back to proper speaking volume. “But I mean it, I’m fine. I don’t need help with any of that crap.”

“Really? It’s just that you’ve been walking a little funny since we left the dining hall, and, well, I know that dog ride scared me a lot. So it’d be completely okay if you... well, you know!”

“Ralsei’s right,” Kris signed now that Susie was looking at them. “You’ve been slower than normal since then, so either you need a change or you’re hurt and not telling us. Either way, you should let Ralsei take care of that.”

“Y-yeah, exactly!” Gaining some confidence with Kris backing him up, Ralsei nodded firmly. “Since you mentioned it yesterday, I made sure I brought a spare change with me just in case you needed it, so I’m all set to help out!”

Susie was clearly torn, a deep scowl across her face as her cheeks continued to radiate heat. Her hands clenched in the fabric of her pants, causing it to creak from the strain she put on it. Standing still, Kris wasn’t sure if it was their imagination, or if the bulk of Susie’s diaper against her pants was a little more noticeable right now. Would it be, if she’d really used it?

“...fine. Let’s - I dunno, keep going until we find another bathroom or something, then I guess you can help. Kris can guard the door or something.”

Ralsei nodded again, and it seemed like the conversation would end, but Kris couldn’t resist poking Susie one last time. “I should stay in the room with you, actually.”

Having been about to take a step, Susie froze comically, their scowl ticking another degree deeper. “Why.”

“Don’t want to be out on my own if any enemies are on patrol,” they explained, completely reasonably. They let that hang in the air for a moment, let Susie believe they really just had a rational explanation for it, before continuing, “And I should know how to do it too, in case you and Ralsei get separated and I have to ‘help you out’ instead. Right, Ralsei?”

“Right! I can talk you through it while I help Susie, it’s really easy. Golly, you’re lucky you have a friend like Kris, right?”

Susie glared at Kris. Kris met her gaze calmly, the corner of their mouth quirking up. Outvoted, Susie looked away first, stomping out of the room and forcing the other two to follow. “Lucky’s one word for it, I guess.”

[rustfoxes]

I don't like gryphons not being extinct. Kills the symbolism of a dying order being represented by an animal that's already gone from the world. That shit was genuinely quite poignant and beautiful to me. Also I don't like the explanation of "we found one clutch of eggs protected by a ward and wanted everyone to think they're still gone", that's bs.

I may reveal myself to be a monster, but I think the characters being horrified that the leader of an army being willing to sacrifice some of their soldiers for a big win in the war is massively fucking childish. Lives are a hell of a sacrifice to have to make, but the choice there wasn't A) soldiers live, B) soldiers die. The choice is A) some soldiers die, and B) literally everyone gets enslaved and used as cattle. There's a clear choice there, honestly. It's not fun, it's not fair to the ones dying, it's war. Be real. Also I'm not a huge fan of them judging the past and assuming there to not have been any growth or change over the literal thousand years it's been. Sure there may not have been any because of the writing, but there should have been. Because people change and grow. Fictional characters should too.

Why is it raining everywhere.

Why must all mountains be the orange sandstone looking ones, I don't like them. Let us have nice mountains. Why must we have deserts, they suck, that's why no one lives there.

"Some kind of blood magic is preventing us from opening these locks!" THERE'S NO BLOOD IN LOCKS TO CONTROL USING BLOOD MAGIC WHAT THE ACTUAL SHIT

Oh man that previous one spiked my blood pressure. That's the true blood magic at play.

Facial animations lack a lot of subtlety.

Convos with Solas seem to all be railroaded into you being super angry at him and zero chance of ever even trying to be understanding of circumstances. Giving me 3 options that all are "yeah well, you" when we're the ones who fucked up big time is shit. I really want someone to come at Rook & co. with this same attitude about them breaking loose the gods that are destroying everything. Solas has saved so many from slavery and worse for a long time. Rook has majorly fucked up and done very little so far to fix it. They have no damn foot to stand on.

The changes to the heights and bodybuilds of the differend playable races bothers me more and more. I liked elves being different being more than just having pointy ears. I liked dwarves actually being short and stout and not just the height of shorter humans. Create different shapes and heights for races, sure, but could've kept the basics as they were. If you're gonna borrow this much from DA2, could've borrowed the visually different humans vs. elves from the game.

Why would a gryphon, clearly a meat-eating animal, ever want to eat yams or truffles or roots. What my-cat-is-vegan type of trash wrote this shit. At least keep it lore-friendly and go looking for tiny wheels of cheese to give to Assan as treats, come on. Or have it eat the damn nugs it's chasing. Stupid ass writers...

Why can the qunari be blue now? They're not tieflings, don't try to make them tieflings. Let them be grey.

Hate healing not being self-replenishing. Fuck those goddamn jars.

Disjointed DAtVG feelings/opinions

I've played the game for a bit, I'm not too far in yet, and honestly? I hope it gets better. Spoilers & venting below as you might guess.

Everything seems to be tell, don't show. There's very, VERY little trust in the player. Characters happen upon a ruined village? "The village is ruined! There's no one here!" Yes, we can see that. Character looks upset? Text pops up on screen to tell you that IN FACT!! Character is upset. Couldn't have guessed.

Everything is explained out loud immediately, except the arguably actually important things. If I remember correctly, there's no mention of the 10 year (?) timeskip from DAI, everyone just now knows everything about elven magic and the Fade and the Veil EXCEPT FOR THE PLAYER. None of that is explained! New players are expected to just know, which in some games works, but when you throw characters into a magical forest and say it's Arlathan forest, how tf are they supposed to know what Arlathan is.

Why is Varric a brunette all of a sudden

Characterisation of returning characters is fucking wild. Fun, jokey Harding? Massive chip on her shoulder and real aggressive for some reason. Soft-spoken and measured Solas? Yelling, again, for some damn reason. Where is his iambic pentameter? And he hates blood magic all of a sudden?? Did the writers play the earlier games at all? Solas SPECIFICALLY says in DAI that blood magic has no morality to it and is merely a tool.

The game is linear to the extent that I cannot for the life of me see the point of the game asking you to wrap up unfinished business before moving forward. What unfinished business? You've locked us into a small room with 0 exits and 1 chest. There is no business.

So far there's been zero time for any of the story to breathe. There are no story beats, because the drum machine that is the pacing just keeps hammering on. The gravity of the situation has no time to set in for anyone. THE ACTUAL GODS OF MYTH HAVE BEEN BUST OUT OF GOD-JAIL. THIS IS A HUGE FUCKING PROBLEM. "Yeah, well, people would've died if Solas hadn't been stopped from tearing down the Veil." And this is preferable???? What the actual fuck. DAI Solas wanted to rebuild and to safe-guard his people. TWO of the people he wanted to PROTECT EVERYONE FROM are now out. But oh man, that Solas, he would've hurt folks. You think the wondertwins won't? Jesus fucking Christ.

The gameplay more or less just completely scraps character classes. Playing a mage rn and for some damn reason she has separate ranged attacks. What the actual fuck. What is the point of making people choose a class if a damn mage has to stand next to enemies to attack?

So far doesn't feel like an RPG at all. Starts in media res which is fine, but your character is already established as a cool hero and an important figure. Why? Why weren't we along for that ride?

Character movement is janky af, DAI was much smoother 10 damn years ago. Hopefully they'll somehow manage to fix it.

Either they needed better actors or a much better voice director, because holy shit is the dialogue awkward and halting and just... no.

Writers have clearly had shoes far too large to fill. Dialogue wants to be funny and witty and clever. It is not. Specially not with the phoned in voice acting.

Where have my Welsh/Irish elves gone? Wtf happened there? Also why wasn't there anyone around to tell the actors how to pronounce the elvhen words??

Why the fuck is the rogue our healer.

All quests so far have been walking from A to B, collecting some coins along the path, and then fighting 5 or 10 enemies. No variation at all.

Idk man, I really hope the game will find its legs as it goes on, but so far? Massively underwhelming and honestly quite disappointing. Absolutely does not feel like DA. People critisised DA2 for being rushed and DAI for a whole host of shit, but at least I felt like I was playing a Dragon Age game.

[iignisia-blog]

2017 And we're still making callout posts, huh.

[websterss]

THOSE EYES  — LUKE PATTERSON

REQUEST: Hi!! So I've seen your account recently and I really would like you to write jatp luke Patterson x reader, when the Reader is always so goofy and childish. So they are sick like they have a very bad fever, and they are very weak and Luke takes care of them, and maybe sings a lullaby to help them sleep by singing to them and rocking them please. 

WARNING(S): um cussing mostly, and fluff

WORD COUNT: 985

PAIRING: Luke Patterson x fem!Reader    

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! ♡ Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

“Y/n, I know you’re in there!” Rapid thuds against your window can be heard. The loudness that vibrates through the window shook through your body. You pull the duvet over your head to hopefully muffle the sounds of your annoying friend.

“Come on, let me in!”

“Goaway.” You muffle yelled. Though to your annoyance, it simply slipped your mind that Luke has the ability to poof in and out of places. Perks of being a ghost. “No. I wanna be at peace!” You whine as you sense his presence before you.

“Hello to you too, sunshine.”

“Goaway.” Your voice muffled under your blanket.

“Can’t do that. Julie specifically told me to come and help you around the house since she’s at school.”

“Why!” You kick out the duvet off you. Moving around frantically, part tantrum. “I don’t need a ghost. I need a goddamn miracle-“ You stop feeling clogged up air in your chest causing you to cough. “God I hate being sick.”

“Do you need anything?” Luke walked over, pressing the back of his hand against your warm tempered forehead. “No fever.”

“I just wanna sleep honestly.” You sigh heavily. Turning your head to meet his eyes. “I have this massive migraine that I’ve been trying to cure with ibuprofen for the last couple days, but I stopped because I’m scared of growing an addiction.” You muster a grin, finding the bit hilarious. “Then there’s my congested nose, trying to breathe has been a bitch. I keep waking up in the middle of the night in coughing fits because my lungs can’t get any air.”

“You gotta tell your lungs to work man!”

“I’m trying!” You laugh, heaving a slight bit then feeling the urge to cough again. “This sucks. I don’t even know how I got sick. It’s like all my energy just got drained right out of me. It’s ruined my whole week.” You let your arms fall in defeat by your sides. “I’m sorry, Luke. I know I said I’d be there for the band’s rehearsals but— I barely have the energy to get out of bed these days.” A faint smile paints your face.

“Hey, don’t sweat it okay. Rehearsals will still be there for you to watch after you get better alright? Besides, we can always record what you’ve missed.” Luke sat on the edge next to you. His comfort dissolves the aches and pain that run through your entire system. The mere thought of knowing someone wanting to look after you, gave you hope for a full recovery sooner rather than later. “Though you’re not missing much honestly.”

“Only my social life.” You dismissed passively. “Can’t believe I’m stuck here and you guys are making music. Unfair.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better-” He pointed at your side, activating your flight or fight response. You laughed moving away from his hands, never one to enjoy being tickled. “We’re not really having much luck with coming up with new songs.”

“Now that I found it hard to believe.”

“No seriously, it’s like we ran out of inspiration.”

“Oh come on! You guys seriously haven’t written anything while I’ve been at home sick?”

Luke shrugged. “We’re all missing our muse…” He reached forward to boop you on the nose.

“Please, I’m no muse.” You half heartedly laugh.

“Maybe not the guys, but definitely mine.” He nodded surely.

“Well then, I’m honored.” You reach forward and take a hold of his hand. Twiddling with his fingers. Intertwining and untwining your hand with his. “Any chance I can hear something?” You batted your eyes playfully. A pout full on display. “Would you sing for a poor sick girl?” You force a cough out of your mouth. “A sneak peek of what’s to come?”

“You sure know how to persuade a guy.” Luke smirked.

“What can I say–“ You cough again. “I’m pretty convincing.” Your eyes crinkle, a sleepy haze falls over your tired form.

“Alright sleepy head, I’ll give you something.” He brought his hand up to lightly brush away some flyaway hairs from your eyes. His touch softly lingering. Soothing the slight ache that didn’t want to go away.

“What’s it–“ You yawn big. “called?”

“Well, Julie, the guys, and I haven’t really settled on a name yet, but I think we’re inching closer with Those Eyes.”

“It sounds nice…” You adjust yourself into the bed. Bring the covers up to your chest. The thing about having the flu was that you had the tendency to get shivers here and there, other times hot spells causing you to kick off the covers. A continuous back and forth situation. Right now you were just simply feeling cold. 

“It does. It’s a little slower than any of our other songs, but I think it’ll be a nice touch to the album.”

“Let’s hear it, rockstar.” You hummed. Placing your hands flat over your covered stomach.

“Give me a second.” Luke scoffed humorously. He began making a rhythmic beat on his jean clad thigh, head slowly bobbing as he tried to find his pitch. He took a deep breath and began singing.

“Cause all of the small…things that you do…are what remind me why I fell for you...” His smile grew seeing you start to slip into a deep slumber. Your breathing evening out and becoming slower. He leaned forward, letting his hands caress the side of your cheek gently. His heart fluttering as you subconsciously leaned into his touch. “and when we're apart, and I'm missing you. I close my eyes and all I see is you...and the small things you do.” He leaned back and watched you sleep. His favorite pastime, knowing you were getting rest, and at peace in the comfort of your bedroom. “Sweet dreams, peaches.” Then he was gone in a poof. Silence filling the space, and your sleep unbothered.

[lcvernat]

Playing Cupid | Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Everyone knows Natasha Romanoff is in love with you. Everyone knows you are in love with Natasha Romanoff. Well, everyone except the two of you. You're both oblivious and quite frankly, Yelena has had enough. So she decides to enlist the help of the Avengers for 'Project: Get Nat & Y/N Together'.

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warnings: strong language, brief mention of an injury, brief mention of gagging/feeling sick (jokingly), jealous natasha, protective natasha, whipped reader and natasha, yelena & kate best duo, not canon compliant with the mcu

A/N: thank you so much to everyone who liked or reblogged 'Querencia', it really truly means a lot to me. so i present to you this fic that i thought of at 2am before falling asleep! who doesn't love some oblivious best friends to lovers?

How a trained assassin could be so goddamn oblivious was beyond Yelena. The blonde stared at the scene in front of her, her eyes narrowed in obvious confusion.

"UNO!" Natasha yelled triumphantly before slamming down a red reverse card, a smug smirk on her face.

A cough came from Steve, "Y/N? It's your turn."

"Hm?" You snap out of your reverie, your cheeks turning a shade of red at the fact that Steve had obviously caught you staring at Natasha, "Oh, yeah, right," you rub the back of your neck awkwardly before quickly putting down a random red card.

"You alright, Y/N/N? You look a bit red." Natasha questioned, her brows furrowed in concern as you desperately wished for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

A cough that sounded a lot like 'Fucking hell' came from Yelena, which earned her a glare from you before you plastered on an overly bright smile as you answered Nat, "Yeah, just a bit warm, that's all, Tasha."

"Oh, do you want a drink? I could get you some water with ice, that'd cool you down," Natasha was already halfway standing before she had even finished her sentence.

Yelena yanked her back down onto the couch, "Just finish the game, they're fine. They aren't going to die from heatstroke."

That was the first time Yelena had noticed how oblivious you two were. You both looked at each other with so much love and adoration in your eyes that it honestly made Yelena feel a bit sick. Anyone could see it, but maybe you two were just selectively blind.

"No, absolutely not, you are not going on that mission. It's too dangerous."

"Nat, I'll be fine. I can handle myself."

"No."

You cross your arms, quirking an eyebrow at the stubborn redhead standing in front of you, "Natasha."

She copied your pose, "Y/N."

You sigh exasperatedly, the side of your lip turning up slightly at Natasha's childish antics, "I will be fine."

"I don't care, you're not going."

"Since when were you my mother?"

"I am merely a worried best friend."

You smile fully at that, uncrossing your arms and pulling her into a hug, "You are so infuriating sometimes, I promise you I'll be fine."

She huffs but returns the hug, "Fine. But you better not die on me."

Tony broke the sweet moment with a resounding clap, "Right, if you two are done acting like a married, bickering couple, are we all agreed that Y/N will go on the mission?" Murmurs of agreement and nodding of heads from the rest of the team, whilst you and Natasha had both turned a very vivid shade of red at the fact that Tony had referred to you two as a 'married, bickering couple'.

Yelena shared a look with Clint that quite clearly said, 'I'm going to murder them both.' Clint nodded in agreement.

"I fucking told you so," Natasha's angry voice filled the MedBay, her hand squeezing yours tightly as you lay on one of the beds.

"Okay, okay, no need to rub it in." You try to laugh, but immediately wince at the shooting pain up your side.

"No, no laughing, you'll hurt yourself. And I am not trying to rub anything in, I just told you the mission was too dangerous to go on by yourself! You should've brought me with you! Or someone! Just- you shouldn't of went by yourself. Look what happened!" Natasha's worried ramble was the only thing filling your ears. Her eyes were looking everywhere but at you, as if even the mere sight of you injured broke her.

You squeezed her hand tightly to bring her attention back to you, "Natty, I'm fine, okay? Yes I got hurt, but that's just a risk we have to deal with because of our job. I'm fine, and even if I brought someone else with me, they probably would've gotten hurt too. Better just one person injured than two."

Natasha narrowed her eyes, playing with your fingers as she pouts at you, "You're an extremely important person to me."

You turned your face away from her to hide the red that was inevitably spreading up your neck and face.

Whilst you were injured in the MedBay, and Natasha was inevitably fretting over you and making herself worried sick, Yelena had very sneakily sent a message to the rest of the team to meet in the conference room for a 'meeting'.

She strode into the room, the confused whispers immediately dying down upon her entrance. "Avengers," she greeted, "Honorary Avenger," she nodded to Kate, who gave her a mock salute. "I have called you here today with a top priority mission."

"So why isn't Natasha or Y/N here?" Peter asked in confusion.

Yelena stared at him as if he had just asked the most stupidest question, "Because Y/N is currently injured, and Natasha is with them. And this meeting is in fact about Y/N and Natasha, Spider-Boy."

"It's Spider-Man," came the small whisper. Yelena deigned to ignore it, flicking on a presentation, the title screen reading 'PROJECT: GET Y/N AND NATASHA TOGETHER (asap).'

"Ohh, I like this, I should've brought snacks," Kate piped up, rubbing her hands together excitedly. Yelena's glare quickly shut her up.

"As I'm sure you've all noticed," Yelena begun, "Natasha and Y/N are well, quite clearly, in love with each other. But they're both fucking oblivious-"

"Language."

"I will hit you, capsicle, shut up. Anyway, as I was saying, they are both fucking oblivious and I have reached my wit's end, to put it simply. If I have to go one more day having to stare at my sister giving Y/N heart eyes, I am going to become violently ill. Everyone has noticed it, even the goddamn fans have noticed it-" The presentation turned to another slide, which had a screenshot of a tweet that read 'omg nat & y/n r literally adorable together can they pls get together already look at the way they look at each other' with a selection of photos of the two of you looking very much oblivious and in love. Yelena shuddered dramatically before continuing, "We need to do something about this. ASAP."

Kate raised her hand. Yelena looked at her in confusion for a couple of seconds before cautiously asking, "Yes?"

"I have a few ideas, if I may, Ms. Belova," Yelena gave her a nod to go on, "Alright, so. How about this: Tony throws a party, we get Y/N to flirt with some people, and we make Natasha really jealous. Boom, angry, jealous love confession."

"Oh yes, that's a good idea!" Peter piped up excitedly, throwing two thumbs up Kate's way.

"Now how on Earth would that work?" Tony asked in confusion, earning an extra confused glance from Kate.

"Have you never read fanfiction? Or romance books? It always works in them."

"You're the only one who reads fanfiction here, Kate," Yelena said, "but that actually isn't a pretty bad idea. Does anyone else have any other ideas?"

"Aren't you the trained assassin? Shouldn't you have amazing ideas?" Tony questioned.

"Unfortunately, Stark, playing Cupid was not on the curriculum."

Tony shrugged, "Shame."

"No other ideas?" Yelena looked around at the rest of the team, desperately not wanting to do Kate's idea. She sighed in defeat, "Fine. Kate's idea it is. Which, is likely not going to work, since my sister is awful at feelings."

It was a Friday night after the 'meeting', and Kate's plan was in action. Tony's party was in full swing - as it always was - throwing parties was just one of his many, many talents. Truthfully, Yelena had never expected to be sat at a bar in the Avenger's Tower in a red, skin-tight dress, spying on you and her sister. The wonders of life, she mused as she took a sip of her drink.

Surprisingly, Kate's idea actually seemed to be working. You were talking to someone, obviously very intrigued in whatever they were saying as you let out a laugh, hitting the person's shoulder lightly. Natasha, on the other hand, was staring at you from the other side of the room. Bruce was talking to her, but the poor guy was only getting a nod now and again. Natasha's grip on her glass was so tight that Yelena wouldn't be the slightest bit surprised if it shattered in her hand any second now.

Kate caught Yelena's eye, giving the blonde two big thumbs up which Yelena responded to with a raise of her glass. It only took a split second when Yelena had turned away for Natasha, it seems, to reach breaking point, as the redhead stormed over to you and grabbed your arm, yanking you away from the person you were talking to and leaving them standing there bewildered.

Natasha dragged you into an empty hallway before pushing you against the wall, "God, Nat, what's wro-" you had never got to finish your sentence as Natasha smashed her lips against yours. You let out a gasp in surprise before you eagerly kissed her back, your hand coming up to tangle in her hair.

When lack of oxygen became an issue, you both pulled away. You stared at the messy and disheveled Nat in front of you in amusement, "What was that for?"

Now that Natasha's jealousy had subsided, her cheeks turned as red as her hair as she replied, "Honestly not the way I wanted to confess, but seeing you smiling and laughing with them back there made me- I don't know, I just didn't like it."

"Oh my god," you let out a burst of laughter, earning a glare from Nat, "Natasha Romanoff was jealous."

She looks at you, her eyes narrowing, "I was not!"

"Oh you so were, that is so funny."

She glares at you, pouting. You smile before giving her a small kiss on the lips, "You are so adorable."

The moment was broken by a yell from the end of the hallway, "FUCK YEAH! IT WORKED! YOU OWE ME 20 BUCKS STARK!" Kate Bishop's voice rang in your ears as Nat pulled you out of the hallway. You rounded the corner to find Tony begrudgingly handing 20 bucks to Kate, who patted him on the back in thanks before walking away.

"You betted on us?" Natasha asked in disbelief.

"Oh, no, it wasn't just a bet," Yelena smiled in satisfaction, "it was an entire mission. You can call me Cupid from now on, sestra."

"I hate you." Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Mhm, sure you do." Was Yelena's response.

It was definitely a lie, Natasha thought as she squeezed your hand and placed a kiss on your cheek which earned a gag from Yelena and a 'Oh no, what have I done?'. Nat winked playfully at you, and you smiled to her in return.

[neiptune]

pour it for two

pairing: levi x female reader

wc: 2k

warnings: cursing, mention of death, a lil angst

note: posting again cause tumblr's being a lil bitch

You’ve had enough of Levi staying up until sunrise to finish his paperwork, so it’s only fair to finally let him know.

The first thing your mind registers is that the room is exceptionally dark. The second, is that you’re cold. The third, is the silhouette bent over by the bed, cursing under its breath.

“You okay?”, your voice comes out raspy, sleep still clinging to your throat and limbs.

“Just dropped one of your books. Go back to sleep”.

He’s out of the room in a second, silently closing the door behind him, returning to god knows what non postponable duties of his. It takes an instant to decide that you’ve had enough. Enough of waking up in the middle of the night only to find the spot next to you empty and cold, and you’ve definitely had enough of the dark circles hovering under his bloodshot eyes. You’re ready to sacrifice your own rest once again, even if you have training early in the morning, even if you’re tired and your body aches and nightmares give you exactly zero breaks. So you get up and rub your eyes and put one of his clean shirts on and get oh so ready for yet another one of the lectures he’s always so eager to give you.

And, of course, there he is. Sitting at his desk, office faintly illuminated by some consumed candles, wrinkles on the back of his shirt, one he’s usually too tired to take off before going to bed whenever he decides he’s worthy of getting two to three hours of rest.

“I told you to go back to sleep”, he doesn’t look at you as his hand makes the dip pen run swiftly over the sheet of paper in front of him.

You hum as you lean over, chest softly pressing onto his back as your arms lazily wrap around his neck. He doesn’t stop writing but you can feel him relaxing into you. What you don’t notice is the way he slightly, subtly, winces: he remembers your strained shoulder from the week before, knows about the discomfort it still causes you and, hell, he worries whenever you seem to forget to take care of yourself. A habit he witnesses far too often, much to his annoyance.

“But I’m cold”.

You don’t have to look at him to know that he’s skeptically raised an eyebrow.

“Try putting some clothes on”.

“Rude. Just come sleep with me?”

Levi isn’t one to laugh often and you know that. He likes that you know that and honestly enjoys when you make it a matter of principle to try and get at least a little smile from him whenever you crack one of your stupidest jokes. So, well, he would hate for you to realize how unintentionally funny you actually are.

“Again?”, he therefore retorts and you scoff.

“I mean sleep sleep”, you lean over him a little more, let your lips brush against his ear, distracting him enough for his hand to finally stop, “this stuff can wait, you’re draining yourself and I won’t let you do that or leave me alone in the coldest bed ever known to mankind”.

Levi closes his eyes for a split second, then sighs. He slightly turnes his head, so that your lips can chastely press a kiss to his cheek.

“I can't”.

Exasperated, you straighten up.

“Okay. I’ll sit here until the sun comes up, then”.

He finally allows his gaze to flicker from the paper sheet to your figure, already stubbornly plopped down on one of his uncomfortable chairs, arms crossed, nose scrunching in utter and absolute annoyance.

“You know I can’t work if you stay here”, he mutters.

“Why?”, you challenge.

“Because I need to be alone”. And you’re the most distracting thing in this whole, goddamn building.

“Should’ve thought about that before getting in a relationship with me”.

Lack of sleep usually makes you childish, immature, but at this point it’s starting to irritate you as well. Honestly, there’s just nothing more you want than being able to go back to bed with the arms of the man you’re so desperately in love with finally wrapping around you. If it means that he’ll accept to rest, you’re even willing to stay awake. Keep your eyes open until dawn, watch over him, make sure he sleeps peacefully, be able to witness the extraordinary event of his facial features finally relaxing.

“Can we not do this right now?”, the way he returns his attention to whatever the hell he starts writing again is what ultimately makes you snap.

“Pardon me, if being alone is what you want I’ll gladly satisfy said request”.

The impetus you use to get up, storm off and slam the door, doesn’t really bother him. What does, is the fact that you slam the wrong door. You’re out of his office, and not to go back to bed.

Levi’s hand freezes a second time, anxiety inevitably churning in the pit of his stomach. He can’t help but wonder, is it finally happening? Has he slipped up enough for you to realize it’s better not to waste any more time on someone like him? Because that’s how he is. Not great with words, often harsh in his replies, rough with his demands, sometimes walls still so high he doesn’t even let you climb over them. Not even patient, understanding, selfless you. Someone he really doesn’t understand why has been sticking around for so many months, someone who knows with unbelievable precision when and just how much to question, insist, calibrate the strength necessary to pull him back and away from his incessant thoughts. Someone who didn’t flinch away in repulsion, the first time tears cascaded down his cheeks in the middle of the night, choosing to hold him instead in a way that he’s never been held, in a way he never even thought he wanted to be held.

You’re the only good thing in his life and now you’re probably gone. Abruptly, in the same exact way you had pierced his quiet solitude.

Levi feels like his lungs are refusing to expand in his chest cavity as he attempts to breathe in, dip pen abandoned on the desk, eyes shutting as he attempts to focus and, for fuck’s sake, calm down.

Do I go look for her?

It’s the middle of the night.

But she’s mad, she probably wants to be alone right now.

Can I fix this in the morning? Will she be here again, in the morning?

Yeah, some of her clothes are here.

Can I fix this?

His heart sinks as he turns around when the door opens again. And there you are, clumsily trying to balance a teapot and two cups in your arms, cursing under your breath as you attempt to close the door with your left heel.

Levi’s eyes never leave you as you approach the desk and put everything down on it, probably with a little more strength than the one required to place two cups on a flat surface.

“There, it’ll be easier to stay awake. Don’t worry, I’ll fill mine and just go back to b–”

He pulls you into his lap and closes his arms around you with such speed you lose balance and almost fall. You frown as his forehead rests against your neck, his breath tickling you.

“Levi?”, you inquiry, confused, one of your hands instantly closing on one of his.

He doesn’t trust the steadiness of his voice, so he doesn’t reply. And you feel so bad, because you know how stupidly overboard you went with that dumb argument. Even if you were trying to take care of him, you know you’ve made him feel guilty about something he can’t control, something he doesn’t even enjoy. His duties can’t be changed to suit your needs and you should never be selfish enough to expect that.

“Hey. I’m sorry”, you mutter, wiggling in his embrace enough to be able to turn around and look at him.

“I’m sorry”, he replies softly, but you shake your head.

“No. I should know better. It’s just… I don’t like these”, your fingertips gently graze his dark circles, then brush some of his hair away from his forehead.

“I just wish you could rest more. I wish I could help more”, you murmur, and your lips tenderly find their way to the corner of his mouth. Levi closes his eyes as one of his hands rise up to your throat, closing around it with just enough pressure to keep you close, face practically pressed against his.

“You help”, he states, nose gently grazing yours.

“Liar”, a small smile finds its way to your lips but Levi really isn’t up for jokes as he grips your jaw with a perfectly balanced amount of roughness and tenderness. His kiss is needy, desperate, leaves no room for catching your breath and has you gasping for air after just a couple seconds.

“You help", he mutters, lips traveling from your jaw to your neck as your fingers weave into his hair and tug, one of his arms closing around you even tighter as you shiver against his chest.

“And I love you”, his lips are back on yours as he says that, softer this time, warmth churning in your chest as they slowly move against your chapped ones once more.

“I love you too”, you finally manage to gather enough air in your lungs to speak as he lets go of your jaw, lips extended in a gentle, grateful smile.

And I know how much work that is, he thinks, a twinge of pain clouding his senses for a second, a whole second spent thinking just how much better than him you deserve.

But now it’s your turn to grip his jaw, eyes reading everything there’s to read into his.

“It makes me lucky, getting to love you. Especially in the midst of the shitshow that are our lives”, you leave no room for protests or debate as you peck his lips again, one, two, three times, until he smiles again and finally relaxes under your touch.

“Now, get back to work. And drink this, I almost spilled it and risked third-degree burns to get it to you”.

You turn around and attempt to get up from his lap but he keeps you in place, chin resting on your right shoulder.

“Pour it for two”, he demands.

“You don’t have to make me stay. I’m not mad. I know you’re more comfortable, working alone”.

Levi clicks his tongue impatiently and reaches over to pour the tea himself. It’s black, aromatic and zesty, just how he likes it at night.

As you reach to grab your cup, you let your eyes travel over the paper sheet he had been so intently writing on. Your chest tightens and your heart sinks as you realize what he’s been working on for the past nights. Letters of condolences and compensation for the families of the soldiers you had lost during your last expedition outside the walls. Some even belonging to your team.

He notices the way your body stiffens and lets out a heavy breath.

“That’s why I didn’t want your help”.

“Because it’s hard?”, you mutter, tears blurring your vision as you do your best to hold them in.

“It’s hard”, Levi replies, gently squeezing your hip because of course he noticed the slight crack in your voice.

“And is it fair? You wanting to always face everything hard on your own?”, you turn around to look at him again, brows furrowed, eyes watery.

He shuts his eyes.

“It’s my job”.

Your back presses against his chest again as you sigh wearily. You wish he would share more of his burdens with you, get rid of that infuriating impulse of trying to protect you from everything. You, as much of a soldier as him. You, living the life of a cornered rat as much as him and everyone else.

But you won’t push it. You will wait patiently and give him as much space as needed, until he hopefully realizes that there are things he doesn’t have to face on his own. No matter how difficult, painful, dangerous. You’ll wait until he understands that he doesn’t have to always be the strongest. You’ll wait until he’ll allow you to actually soothe his mind, unknot the hurt clutching his limbs and bones.

“I know”.