#We kind of follow them throughout their lives but this is just where we started ig
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hey I was planning another post today but instead let’s talk about how much I love that there’s not really a ‘good’ ending to the companion plotlines in Veilguard. It reminds me of Leliana and Alistair’s plotlines in DAO in that what you choose says more about the player/protagonist than anything
I just finished Isana Negat a second time, and I did the other ending and I thought it was just as good. Like, yeah, Harding does deserve to be angry! They did fucking get everything taken away from them! It’s so painful and horrific; yes you can, and should, be mad! But also Harding prioritizing her very real love for and compassion towards other people is not wrong. It’s just different! It’s just Rook’s friend/lover asking them for advice, and Rook giving it! You know, like in real life except with huge magical rock giants
And okay I’m never going to kill Illario because I think it would make Luca really sad and he has enough problems, Whoops I misremembered this, I don’t think you can kill Illario actually. I love that for Luca <3 But yk, I’m probably still not going to imprison him. but I can see it! Because the cycle has to end, right? The violence and infighting of the Crows endlessly attacking each other over power is part of what allowed the Antaam to get a foothold in Antiva, because there was like a double agent or something (if I’m remembering right from Tev Nights). Some kind of ending needs to be made to this endless violence. And I suppose it depends on how retributive Rook is, which is a great question to ask of the player (one that is asked repeatedly throughout the game). It’s not like Illario didn’t do anything, you know! He probably deserves punishment. But Rook, as they always can at various points, can be merciful, can choose absolution. Wow no, I’m glad I was wrong I love it more like this.
And oh boy, I LOVED the ending of Emmrich’s quest, don’t even get me started! Like!! I thought it was going to be ‘well obviously we HAVE to save Manfred’, but how Emmrich talks about accepting his death and his sacrifice convinced me! I was like alright man, this is a real choice! I actually did make him a lich last time (made a lot of sense from a Watcher perspective, imo) and not only was the cutscene sick as hell, but the follow-up was so funny and I got some really sad Spite dialogue which fucking wrecked me. It was great— seriously, his plotline is one of my favorites in the whole game.
And Davrin’s! I’ve already expounded at length about how much I like his quest line and how it ties into the Grey Wardens, but I really think both of his options for the griffons are so workable, because you know the Grey Wardens, especially under Antione and Evka, aren’t going to hurt those little guys again! But also the scenes with Eldrin are so endearing, and Davrin’s hope for a brighter future for them is so sweet and genuine. It’s hard to pick! It’s about Rook's perspective!
Neve's I'll admit I don't vibe with as much just because of the like 'trust the authorities' angle, but i haven't tried saving Minrathous yet and I think it would be sooooo involving as a Shadow Dragon especially. Because that's what they're fighting for, right? That better Minrathous where they CAN be sure that if they send the insane cultist lady to prison she’s going to stay there? But there’s always the practical consideration of people’s lives being at stake NOW, of Neve needing her friends safe NOW. And just killing Aelia ensures she will never be an issue again. So I can see both angles for sure
And Taash ;-; oh, Taash. I haven’t posted about them that much yet because they make me very emotional and it’s hard to organize thoughts like that. But I really love their quest, and their struggle to define themselves. And look, I know people wanted the option to tell them they could be both, but like as a person who has lived a similar experience, it really feels sometimes like the world is making you choose. It can feel like you’re not enough of either thing for anyone. And there are parts of your identity that you will have to make a choice on, and I think it’s trying to speak to that. I did the Rivaini one, and it’s like… well, they’re embracing the culture of Rivain, but it’s not like anyone is ever going to look at them and NOT see a Qunari. You can’t get away from that. What you choose to do in response is a real dilemma and I think that if you engage with the text genuinely you can see what Trick was doing. Also, there is a really great dialogue from Rook that I think gives more context to the discussion; they can say that they have been many things, and it’s important to take what works from each experience and make it part of yourself. So I don’t think Taash’s plot is trying to make them throw away any of themselves, just defining priorities. (Sorry, that got long. Feelings, opinions about that one)
And I don’t think Bellara’s is obvious, either, especially with how they involve the Nadas Dirthalen in her personal plot. This is a thing that is really emotionally and culturally significant to her, but at the same time it is part of what hurt her brother and ultimately took him away from her. She’s really preoccupied with not causing harm by her actions; she spends the whole game worried about it! And even though Rook doesn’t see the dangerous elements of the repository, that doesn’t mean they’re not there. The puzzle quest you can find in Arlathan proves that other people besides Cyrian were taken in by Anaris. And also, there’s the plot thread they briefly touched on in the last game which is that the culture the Dalish have built, that they have RIGHT NOW, is not wrong. But it’s also important to remember history, even if it’s unpleasant or could be dangerous, which is another thing you can discuss with Bellara during the game. So there’s no wrong choice! It’s just about Rook and Bellara and what’s important from their perspectives.
Anyway it was super refreshing to have these kinds of choices! It reminds me of the best character choices in DAI and DAO, especially, and I’m so happy they carried those things forward and improved on them.
#datv spoilers#veilguard#dragon age: the veilguard spoilers#dragon age#veilguard spoilers#dragon age the veilguard#dragon age: the veilguard#Taash#bellara lutare#davrin#lucanis dellamorte#neve gallus#lace harding#emmrich volkarin
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oh and this ones my favorite !! Tamizhselvan concept art (2)
[ ID: A photo. Original traditional art in uncoloured pencil of my OC Tamizhselvan.
This third concept art design is based off of a square. I note it to be pointier. Tamizh looks to the side in a sinister manner, brows furrowed and smiling. Tamizh's face is squared and tapers to a smaller blocky chin. Overall it's a strong looking shape. Lips are more mediumly sized. His nose is round with a nose ring that looks like a little flower. Acne in shaded parts dots his face but especially on cheeks. Her eyes have a large iris with almost pinprick pupils. They still have prominent lashes, little eyeliner and dark circles. The brows are thicker at the outer end. Her straight hair is combed close and parted with the left part pushed up for style. Rest is tied in long braids in an inverted-heart shape tied off by wrapped long ribbons that droop. The hair at the end curls slightly. Her ears are round and squat with heart earrings that are in two parts of each other.
The neck is slightly long and ends in a shirt collar and big tie in a suit-jacket. The shape of her shoulders is quite broad.
Notes for this one have a crossed out 'Beauty mark' in favor of an added nose ring. Questions ask whether the eyes should be brown or greyish. End ID]
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Yeah this one looks so fucking cool.
Another thing...hmmm....
Also I have to say that's a scholars suit-jacket and not like. A Suit Jacket
Like. Highschool. LOL.
Anyway.... yes! He's so good at everything. He even has three minions who decided to adopt him but don't tell him that, he needs to be in control or he will DIE (fainting so slowly please catch)
#Sorry social anxiety jumped out#It's OK he has it too djfjfjf#I feel so SILLY#also OK I guess all this may change but don't mind me hdbddb cool design anyway right#Artists on Tumblr#Art#Original#HTMH#OCs#Tamizhselvan#Tamizh#Indian#Desi#Tamil#My art#Also er NO it's NOT a highschool story#We kind of follow them throughout their lives but this is just where we started ig#YK!!
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livestream
⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ summary — you ask your boyfriend to watch your followers.
⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ character — bucky barnes (marvel)
⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ content — fluff
⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ notes — rushed ending WEEWOOWEEWOO also, this is based on @loveisallyouneed1125’s idea, i just added a ~little~ twist to it. i hope this is to your liking, bestie! 🤍
~
Occasionally, you would do a cooking and baking livestream where you would teach your followers how to cook certain dishes or bake, while you talk to them about other stuff. Your teammates would sometimes pop in and talk for a few minutes before leaving you to your thing once more.
Today, however, you had decided to let Bucky join you since your followers have been asking you for more boyfriend content with Bucky.
So you quickly set up your phone on the kitchen counter, making sure to leave enough space for you to work while also being in the camera’s view, then you went live.
You and Bucky waited for your followers to flood in, greeting some of them as they left comments and greetings. Although most of them were just smashing their keyboards and emojis, you still did your best to greet them.
After a few minutes, you got started on your baking with Bucky helping. You had mutually decided on baking chocolate chip cookies, finding it the easiest to bake together. Throughout the process, you occasionally gave out instructions to both Bucky and the viewers.
“Okay, you guys, let me just pop these into the oven real quick,” you said as you placed the last piece of dough on the baking tray. “Babe, can you please watch them while I do this?”
While you were busy with the cookies, Bucky watched the comments like a hawk, staring at them as they flooded in.
User 1: dude you’re literally so fucking cool
“Someone said a swear!” Bucky called out to you as he continued staring at the camera, his eyes narrowed.
“Tell them not to swear, it’s bad,” you chided like how a mother would to her child.
Bucky then recited the username of the commenter, pointing at the camera, “You better watch your language, kid. Your mama’s not going to like that. Mine certainly did not.”
The comments were flooded with all kinds of keyboard and emoji smashes, and words that are borderline incoherent as they reacted to you and Bucky acting like strict parents.
User 1: sorry mom and dad 😔
User 2: pls adopt me y’all are literally my parents
User 3: do u guys need a dog i can bark
User 4: ilysm pls dont die yet
“I don’t think your parents would appreciate you having Avengers as your new parents. Sorry, kid.” He shook his head in mock disappointment. “No, we don’t need a dog. We already have Sam. And no, I’m not dying anytime soon. Thanks for your concern, I guess...”
Sam, who was currently in the livestream, spammed the comments with all sorts of insults for Bucky. He, of course, ignored them all, but not without rolling his eyes.
User 5: i’m gonna tell my friends i spent time with the avengers on the weekends 😎
“Well then, tell your friends I said hi.”
“Tell them I did too!” You said as you came into the camera’s view. “And you seem like you’re having fun without me. I am very hurt.”
User 6: NOOOO we love you mom!!!!
User 7: mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry.
You snorted as you saw the comment, while Bucky’s brows furrowed, “What does that even mean?”
You laughed, “I’ll teach you all those slangs later, babe.”
#⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ julia writes about marvel !#⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ julia writes about bucky !#marvel x reader#avengers x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#marvel fluff#avengers fluff#bucky barnes fluff#bucky fluff#marvel imagine#avengers imagine#bucky barnes imagine#bucky imagine#marvel x gn!reader#avengers x gn!reader#bucky barnes x gn!reader#bucky x gn!reader
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CHASING DESTINY — wanda maximoff.
pairing: wanda maximoff x reader
summary: billy and tommy want to know your story with wanda, and you navigate through memories from years ago as you share every little detail possible and allowed with them.
a/n: i’m obsessed with cliché stories where wanda tries to win over the reader, and in the end, they end up together with a beautiful family. i’m an incurable romantic, sorry!!!! hope you like it <3
word count: 2,8k
warnings: none, just fluff.
You were sitting in the living room, flipping through a magazine while Billy and Tommy played with their toys on the floor. The sound of their laughter filled the room, bringing a smile to your face. Wanda was in the kitchen, preparing a snack for the boys, and you could hear her humming a tune softly as she worked. It was a quiet, peaceful afternoon, the kind you cherished most.
Billy and Tommy, with their curious minds always working, suddenly looked up at you with identical expressions of mischief and curiosity. "Mommy, how did you and Mama meet?" Billy asked, his voice full of innocent curiosity.
Tommy, always quick to follow his brother's lead, added, "Yeah, tell us the story! We want to know everything!"
You chuckled, setting the magazine aside and looking over at Wanda, who had just walked into the room with a tray of snacks. She caught your gaze, a knowing smile tugging at her lips as she handed the boys their snacks.
"That's a long story," you said, a playful tone in your voice as you reached out to ruffle Tommy's hair. "Are you sure you want to hear all the details?"
"Yes!" they both exclaimed in unison, their eyes wide with excitement.
Wanda took a seat beside you on the couch, her hand finding yours as she gave it a gentle squeeze. "I think it's time they know, don’t you?" she said softly, her eyes twinkling with affection.
You smiled, nodding as you turned your attention back to the boys. "Alright, it all started back in high school…"
The halls of Westview High were buzzing with life, students chatting and laughing as they moved from class to class. You were walking with your best friend, Natasha Romanoff, discussing your plans for the weekend when a familiar voice called out from behind you.
"Hey, gorgeous!"
You groaned internally, recognizing the voice immediately. Wanda Maximoff, the school's star cheerleader and resident flirt, was striding toward you with that confident smirk you had come to associate with trouble.
"Here we go again," you muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes as you quickened your pace.
Natasha, always the amused observer, chuckled beside you. "She’s really got it bad for you, huh?"
You shot her a glare, but it was half-hearted. "I don’t get it. She could have anyone she wants, and yet she’s obsessed with making my life a nightmare."
Natasha shrugged, her grin widening. "Maybe she just likes the challenge."
Before you could respond, Wanda had caught up to you, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Why are you running away from me, Y/N? You know I’m not that scary."
You gave her a deadpan look. "Maybe if you stopped trying to flirt with me every five seconds, I wouldn’t have to."
Wanda laughed, clearly not deterred by your cold response. "But where’s the fun in that? Come on, Y/N, just give me one date. I promise it’ll be worth it."
You shook your head, refusing to give in. "Never happening, Maximoff."
Wanda pouted playfully, but there was a determination in her eyes that told you she wasn’t going to give up anytime soon. "We’ll see about that."
As she walked away, her confident stride making it clear she had something up her sleeve, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of exasperation and… something else. Something you weren’t quite ready to admit to yourself yet.
The next few weeks were an exercise in endurance. Wanda had enlisted the help of her friends, who began passing you little notes throughout the day. Each note was filled with cheesy pick-up lines, romantic quotes, and the occasional heartfelt compliment.
At first, you were annoyed. You tried ignoring the notes, tossing them into the trash without reading them. But they kept coming, and eventually, curiosity got the better of you.
One day, after receiving yet another note, you decided to actually read it.
You’re the only person I can’t stop thinking about. Please give me a chance to show you how much you mean to me.
You stared at the note, feeling a strange flutter in your chest. It was different from the others—less playful and more sincere. For the first time, you wondered if maybe, just maybe, Wanda was being genuine.But you weren’t ready to let your guard down just yet. You crumpled the note and stuffed it into your pocket, determined not to let her get under your skin.
Natasha, of course, had other ideas.
"Come on, Y/N," she said one afternoon as you both sat in the cafeteria. "Wanda’s clearly serious about this. Why not just give her a chance?"
You shook your head, stubborn as ever. "I don’t know, Nat. She’s always been such a flirt. How do I know she’s not just playing some game?"
Natasha gave you a pointed look. "You won’t know unless you give her a chance. What’s the worst that could happen?"
You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip as you considered her words. Finally, with a sigh, you relented. "Fine. One date. But only because you’re practically forcing me."
Natasha grinned, giving you a playful nudge. "You won’t regret it."
Wanda had been ecstatic when you finally agreed to go on a date with her. She went all out, planning a perfect evening that included dinner at a cozy little restaurant and a walk along the beach.
To your surprise, the date was… nice. Wanda was charming, funny, and attentive. There were no cheesy pick-up lines or over-the-top gestures, just genuine conversation and laughter. She was nothing like the girl who had been relentlessly flirting with you for weeks.
As the evening wore on, you found yourself relaxing, your initial reservations slowly melting away. You even started to enjoy yourself, and by the time the date ended, you were seeing Wanda in a completely different light.
"Thank you for tonight," you said as you both stood outside your house. "I had a really good time."
Wanda smiled, and it was a soft, sincere smile that made your heart flutter. "I’m glad. I meant what I said in those notes, you know. You’re really special to me."
You blushed, ducking your head to hide your smile. "I… I think you might be special to me too."
Wanda’s eyes lit up, and she took a step closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "Does that mean I get a second date?"
You looked up at her, your heart pounding in your chest. "Yeah… I think it does."
By the time Valentine’s Day rolled around, you and Wanda had been seeing each other for a few months. You weren’t officially a couple yet, but you had grown closer with each passing day.
On the morning of Valentine’s Day, you found a single red rose on your locker, along with a note that read.
Meet me at the bleachers after school.
You knew it was from Wanda, and as much as you tried to play it cool, you couldn’t help the excitement that bubbled up inside you.
When you arrived at the bleachers after school, you found Wanda waiting for you, a nervous but hopeful look on her face.
"Hey," you greeted her, your voice soft as you approached.
"Hey," she replied, her hands fidgeting slightly as she held a small box in her hands. "I got you something."
You raised an eyebrow, curious. "What is it?"
Wanda handed you the box, her eyes searching yours for a reaction. "Open it and see."
You carefully opened the box, revealing a delicate silver necklace with a small heart-shaped pendant. Inside the heart was a tiny engraving of your initials intertwined with Wanda’s.
Your breath caught in your throat as you looked up at her, your heart swelling with emotion. "Wanda, it’s beautiful…"
Wanda took a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke. "I’ve been wanting to ask you this for a while now, but I was waiting for the right moment. And I think this is it…"
She reached out, gently taking your hands in hers. "Will you be my girlfriend?"
The sincerity in her eyes, the way she was looking at you with so much hope and love—it was all too much. You felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as you nodded, unable to find the words.
"Yes," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend."
Wanda’s face lit up with the brightest smile you’d ever seen, and she pulled you into a tight hug, holding you close as if she never wanted to let go.
"I promise I’ll make you happy," she whispered into your ear, her voice full of love and determination.
And from that day on, you were inseparable.
Years passed, and your relationship with Wanda only grew stronger. You both went off to college together, supporting each other through the highs and lows, celebrating each other’s successes, and comforting each other during the tough times.
On the day of your college graduation, Wanda had something special planned.
After the ceremony, she took you to a quiet spot on campus where the two of you had spent countless hours studying, talking, and simply being together.
As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, Wanda turned to you, her expression serious but full of love.Wanda's voice was soft, filled with emotion as she spoke. "Y/N, these past few years with you have been the best of my life. We've grown so much together, and I can't imagine my future without you in it."
You felt your heart skip a beat as Wanda reached into her pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. Your breath caught in your throat as she got down on one knee, her eyes never leaving yours.
"Wanda..." you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.
Wanda smiled up at you, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I know this might seem sudden, but I've known for a long time that you're the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. So, Y/N, will you marry me?"
Tears filled your eyes as you looked down at the woman who had become your best friend, your partner, and the love of your life. The moment felt surreal, like a dream you never wanted to end.
"Yes," you said, your voice thick with emotion. "Yes, Wanda, I'll marry you."
Wanda's face lit up with pure joy as she slipped the ring onto your finger, standing up to pull you into a tight embrace. You could feel her tears mingling with your own as you held each other, the world around you fading away until it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other's love.
As you stood there, holding the woman you were going to spend the rest of your life with, you knew that no matter what challenges came your way, you would face them together—side by side, heart to heart.
You smiled at the memories, your heart swelling with warmth as you looked down at the ring that still adorned your finger—symbolizing the love that had only grown stronger over the years.
"And that's how your mama proposed to me," you finished, glancing over at Wanda, who was watching you with a loving expression.
Billy and Tommy sat wide-eyed, clearly entranced by the story. "Wow, mama really did all that just to get you to go out with her?" Billy asked, his voice filled with awe.
You chuckled, nodding. "She sure did. Your mama was very determined."
Tommy grinned, looking over at Wanda with newfound admiration. "You're so cool, mama! I bet no one else could have won mommy over like that!"
Wanda laughed, reaching out to ruffle Tommy's hair. "I had to work hard, but it was worth it. Your mommy is pretty special."
The boys giggled, and you felt a surge of affection for your family. It was moments like this—full of love, laughter, and warmth—that reminded you how lucky you were to have Wanda and the boys in your life.
"And what happened after you got married?" Billy asked, his curiosity still not satisfied.
Wanda and you exchanged a glance, and she smiled. "Well, after we got married, we decided to start a family. And that's where you two come in."
The boys' eyes lit up, and Tommy leaned forward eagerly. "Tell us more! How did we get here?"
You smiled, your heart swelling with emotion as you thought back to those early days of starting a family.
After your wedding, you and Wanda knew that the next step in your journey together was to start a family. You both wanted children—two little ones to love and raise together.
It wasn't long before you began exploring the process of artificial insemination. The decision was easy; you both wanted to carry on the Maximoff name while also honoring your shared journey. You were nervous, but Wanda was always there to hold your hand and remind you that no matter what happened, you would face it together.
When you found out you were pregnant, the joy was overwhelming. Wanda cried happy tears when you showed her the positive test, and she held you close, whispering promises of love and support for the journey ahead.
The pregnancy was full of ups and downs—morning sickness, cravings, and endless doctor’s appointments—but through it all, Wanda was your rock. She was there for every moment, holding your hand, rubbing your back, and soothing your anxieties with her unwavering love.
And then, one beautiful day, Billy and Tommy came into the world.
The moment you held your sons for the first time, you felt an indescribable connection. Their tiny hands grasped your fingers, and you knew in that instant that you would do anything to protect and love them.
Wanda was just as smitten. She looked at the boys with tears of joy in her eyes, and you knew that this was the family you had always dreamed of.
"And that's how you two came to be," you said, your voice filled with love as you looked at your sons. "You were the greatest gifts we could have ever asked for."
Billy and Tommy looked up at you and Wanda with wide eyes, their expressions filled with wonder and love.
"We’re really lucky, huh?" Billy said softly, his voice full of affection.
Tommy nodded, his small hand reaching out to grasp yours. "Yeah, we have the best moms in the whole world."
Your heart swelled with emotion, and you felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. Wanda reached over and gently wiped away a tear that had escaped, her smile warm and full of love.
"We're the lucky ones," Wanda said softly, her voice filled with emotion. "Because we have you two."
As you sat there, surrounded by your family, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace and contentment. The journey that had brought you and Wanda together—the ups and downs, the challenges and triumphs—had all led to this moment, right here, right now.
And you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
That night, after tucking Billy and Tommy into bed, you and Wanda curled up on the couch together, a blanket draped over your legs as you watched the flickering flames in the fireplace.
Wanda’s head rested on your shoulder, and you felt her hand slip into yours, her fingers entwining with yours in a familiar, comforting way.
"Have you ever regretted agreeing to go on that date with me?" Wanda asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
You smiled, turning your head to press a kiss to her temple. "Oh my God, no. Never. And I never would have imagined back in high school that we’d end up here—married, with two amazing boys."
Wanda chuckled softly, her breath warm against your skin. "It’s funny how life works out, isn’t it? All those years ago, I was just trying to get your attention, and now… now you’re my whole world."
You felt your heart swell with love as you tightened your grip on her hand. "And you’re mine, Wanda. I’m so grateful for everything we’ve been through—every challenge, every triumph—because it brought us here."
Wanda lifted her head, her green eyes meeting yours, and you saw the love and adoration reflected in them. "I love you, Y/N. More than anything in this world."
"I love you too, Wanda," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "Always."
So you once again realized how truly lucky you were—having Natasha make you agree to go on that date and Wanda being so persistent.
You couldn’t imagine a happy life without her.
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There's a trend people have pointed out in superhero stories over the past 20 or so years that is the death of "regular" supporting casts, an increasing absence of un-powered sidekicks or people involved who aren't in the thick of the action or in the hero's secret. Everyone who interacts with superheroes is a couple issues away from becoming one, every story involves a supervillain encounter or several dozen, every hero's gotta have a lunchbox-ready "superhero family" made from these characters, and every side character that doesn't join them is either going to die or become a supervillain.
The defining example people use for this is Spider-Man's supporting cast, with every Spider-Man cast member short of Aunt May and J Jonah Jameson getting some kind of powered upgrade or symbiote, and I'm gonna say Amanda Waller is an excellent case study of how this kind of thing happens, and I think it helps to explain why Amanda Waller has been, Like That, for the past 30 years.
She’s wearing a grey shirt underneath a blue blazer and it’s tucked into a similarly blue skirt that stops at mid calf. She reminds me of the neighbourhood aunties I used to see leaving for church every Sunday morning.
My mom used to say that you are the company you keep. So what kind of person does it take to keep a variety of bruised, battered, and dangerous personalities in check? - Amanda Waller: DC's Most Terrifying Woman
To those of you who haven't read John Ostrander and Kim Yale's Suicide Squad, there once was a time where Amanda Waller was something more than a powerful antagonistic force able to butt heads with the biggest superheroes, and something other than a heartless establishment face out to make superheroes miserable for ill-defined reasons. Structurally speaking, Suicide Squad is a comic about marginal DCU characters forced to deal with actual real life problems, and it's central character is a marginalized person forced to deal with DCU problems and characters. The members of the Squad are a rolling parade of costumed misfits and maniacs assigned to go around the globe to fight and kill and die on dirty missions to deal with dirty laundry and stop war zones from erupting, while Amanda Waller is forced to shuffle around her cadre of D-list supervillains and disgraced superheroes and get into stand-offs with secret spy societies, living nukes, voodoo cartels, and Batman.
Amanda Waller neither looks nor acts like the kind of character that stars in a superhero comic, and she is the central character throughout the 66 issues of the run and we follow her character arc from beginning to end as she's forced to spin plates to accomplish her goals and prevent bad situations from getting worse. She is the most fully realized character in the run and everything rests on her shoulders. We spend a lot of time inside her head, her team, her associates, she is the center holding together an extremely chaotic book with no two characters on the same page. She is, and has to be, an extremely powerful person, someone who stands her ground no matter what, an unbeatable force of will because that is the only way she's going to survive the situations she's in, the only way she can be "The Wall", the kind of person who can repel Batman, command a platoon of monsters, talk her way out of Deadshot's contract, someone who can stare at Darkseid and credibly threaten the President into letting her live.
That's the part that everyone is more or less familiar. But there is, or at least used to be, much more to Amanda Waller than just being The Wall, not in the least because being The Wall is also hampering her effectiveness as well as straight up killing her.
"Amanda's toughness has taken her a long way" "It's taken her as far as it can. But it can't take her no further. It's actually starting to drag her down. I'm scared for my baby sister, rev - scared that the anger in her is congealing into hate." - Suicide Squad #31
We get to know her backstory, her plans, her points of contention with the system, her relationships with people around her, and how deeply she cares about things and people even as she sends them to the meatgrinder. From the start we learn that Waller staffs her team with people she's prone to getting into disagreements with, like Simon LaGrieve and Rick Flag, specifically so they can cover her moral blind spots and pick up the slack in emotional intelligence she's lacking, be the heroes that she can't afford to be. It is unspeakably crucial that the Squad is led by Rick Flag as well as Bronze Tiger, a fallen hero who owes Waller for his recovery who eventually takes Flag's baton. Waller stands up for her team, gets into fights with her superiors when they decide to terminate them, and takes the fall for them when necessary. Waller is a person who does Bad Things - but she is not a Bad Person.
The book in no uncertain terms frames the Suicide Squad's existence as monstrous in a scale Waller doesn't understand until the very end, and it digs deep into the unethical things Waller has to allow for and perpetrate in order to keep it running no matter how many lives it saves, and she spends the first half of the book on a downward spiral. But then there's the 2nd half of the book:
In the first 39 issues, Amanda’s flaws are her undoing. As she pushes away the people she hired to act as a balance, she grasped tighter and tighter to her uncompromised vision of the Suicide Squad despite the constant changes and derailment. Her choices had consequences: the death of Rick Flag, her demotion, employees quitting, and finally, the disbandment of the team.
The last 27 issues have Amanda rising up from the ashes after a year in jail. She’s less in her own way – she communicates, her anger isn’t driving her, she’s more receptive of alternative perspective and recognizes when she’s wrong in real time – but she’s still just as scary.
Waller rebuilds her relationships with the people she drove away, takes a different tack to how the team works, and starts going out into the frontlines with the Squad. She brings Oracle (who actually made her debut in this comic) into the fold, saves her life and plays a big role in Barbara making progress in overcoming her Joker trauma. She genuinely puts in the work to improve as a person and do things a better way than before, even if there is an inescapable immorality to the very existence of the Squad and what they do. That immorality never goes away, and it only further horrifies her when learning how badly her project has gone. In fact, it's that very inescapable immorality that ends her arc.
She learns that the CIA has started using a new Suicide Squad to support a brutal regime in South America, and when faced with the full extent of her complicity in Western imperialism? She decides right then and there to end the Suicide Squad for good after they liberate the population of said regime from said Squad. She is the only person who gives a shit about the country enough to start the assignment for free once she knows about it, force the Squad along, lead the mission in field, and personally (and even gently) usher the villain to his death at the end, to end what began with her.
She does bad things, and she does good things. She cares about people, and she uses people. Her decisions ruin as well as save the world. She spins a million plates to match wills and wits with the strongest, wickedest, most cunning humans and superhumans alike, and she still has superiors to answer to and people close to her she hires to judge her for what she does. She endured racism and misogyny and poverty for decades and rode whatever she could to attain as much power over her own life as someone like her could possibly attain, and to have it, she must be a willing tool of the state and bend the knee to Ronald Reagan, the man she derides for what he did to her community, hating every minute of it.
She lost her family to sexual and racial violence, and now she wrangles a penal battalion comprised of some of the worst people on the planet to inflict violence on her orders. She has saved and redeemed people, and she's haunted by the corpses she's left in her wake. She is oppressed and oppressor, someone who could only escape the ravages of American imperialism by becoming one of it's chief enforcers, and still she rebuilds herself into a better person from it upon confronting and challenging her role in it. She is not a bad person, she is not a good person either, she is just afforded a degree of agency and complexity unpowered characters in superhero books simply don't get.
Okay cool, now what is she up to these days?
That, I guess. That is what a strong but unpowered person who does not allow themselves to be bossed around by superheroes or supervillains looks like now. Everytime there's a call for a military bad guy, Waller gets tagged in to be DC's Henry Gyrich. There was a point where Waller was made to contrast the likes of Sarge Steel and Wade Eiling, someone who butted heads with them because she was a well-meaning person working for and committing evil as often as she attempted to stop it. These days, the most consistent beat with her is that she is the most dangerous person alive and worse than the villains she wrangles into working for her. She is a thing to be overcome, a hypocrite to be exposed, a challenge to the natural order of the universe, and she is too terrific at it to be shuffled off quietly. She is a Bad Person and so everything she says and does is Bad (and thus can be ignored).
Integral to Suicide Squad's structure was the fact that Waller was the center holding everything together, the ultimate third party: spinning plates working with, for and against all of the others so she can bend rules and be bent by them. Bent, but never broken, because The Wall doesn't break, others break first. Waller was a one-of-a-kind character, and that broke her, because beating Sarge Steel and Wade Eiling at their own game means replacing Sarge Steel and Wade Eiling. Waller doesn't look like them, she doesn't look like the superheroes either, and so she can't be one of them. She can't even look like herself a lot of the time, they try to slim her up everytime they think they can get away with it.
Suicide Squad was preoccupied with exploring a perspective from a world outside the superhero worldview, but we no longer have her perspective or that of people around her, we only know her through the superheroes she inherently defies and has had an adversarial relationship against from day one. She is someone with a viewpoint that is charitable to neither superheroes nor institutions, and thus, the universe is increasingly less sympathetic to her, the less utility she has to the grander narrative where everyone has to pick between one of two options. If she wasn't powerful and assertive, she'd be another Leslie Thompkins, another Jiminy Cricket the heroes passively ignore. But because she is powerful and doing morally compromised things without asking Batman's permission, she must have a personal grudge. She must be a government monster. She must attack the superheroes for no reason, no ideology, no motive.
So now she's just The Wall 24/7, the mean icy establishment boot who is strong and clever and cruel and hates superheroes and wants to destroy superheroes and rule the world from the shadows. Everything she does is a fuck-up she refuses to take responsability for, everyone is right to hate and distrust mean old Waller, and now everyone gets to look good by dunking on her. They couldn't make her a superhero, so they made her a generic supervillain instead. And now that she's a bad guy, she no longer has to believe anything, she doesn't really have to mean anything, they don't have to write stories about something other than superheroes and supervillains, and they don't have to let a fat woman of color take up space and screentime they could be giving to Harley Quinn and Slade Wilson instead.
Even by the time of Waller's debut on the tail end of the 80s, her career opportunities were on their way to extinction
Days Of Future Past marks the triumph of the superhero comic that's pretty much concerned with no-one but superheroes. Where Ditko and Lee's Spider-Man featured a single costumed crimefighter in the context of a commonplace existence, the X-Men of the 80s focused on a huge cast of mutants who had little if any lasting involvement in the everyday world.
By the 21st century, the corporate superhero comic would largely - if not exclusively - concern itself with little beyond a large class of superhumans and their fantastical existence. I suspect there's a significant correlation between that and the continuing cultural peripherilisation of the superhero comic - Colin Smith
Amanda Waller is one of the strongest characters in all of comics, she was as powerful as an non-superpowered character given center stage could possibly be, a perfectly designed character from which an entire corner of a shared universe was developed out of with her as the center making it work, but as the room for civilian casts and unpowered protagonists got smaller and smaller, so did Waller's options. If she was a Spider-Man character and somehow didn't get killed or made into a villain, they would have slimmed her up and given her a symbiote, because you're nobody unless you're web-swinging. Characters didn't look or act like Amanda Waller, and unfortunately, they still don't. It's just instead of making more characters like her, they gutted Waller to be more like the rest. If she couldn't make it, who else even could.
Keep your eyes peeled for this summer when she'll team up with two meaningless robot baddies to burn down the Justice League and I guess the universe for the next reboot or something.
#superheroes#dc comics#suicide squad#amanda waller#john ostrander#kim yale#dcu#dc#comic books#superhero comics
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some times i see people talking about the Earth and climate change saying things like "now i know it is difficult to deal with utter hopelessness, terror, and visiting the thoughts of death"
and it's like wow I am so deeply sorry about the suffering. but...concern. Concern. Tell me, am I missing something important? Why do I feel a sense of hope for our planet? Am I a lonely fool? Have I been consumed by naïveté and misguided optimism?
That would be weird. It feels weird. It feels like I would be well suited to despair. My natural temperament is Mortal Terror making my body crushed for a thousand years at the bottom of the deepest trenches of the ocean. I've thought before "I can't live any more. This exceeds the tensile strength of the human spirit."
And then? After irreversible catastrophic failure of the soul, there is...what?
We try to imagine the future where we fight to save our home and it is very painful. The resistance feels so small and the machine of death feels so vast. But something's missing.
Everyone else is missing—the plants, trees, bugs, beasts, and creatures. Hello? Are the other humans seeing this? Nature wants you to know that she is not a princess in a tower. Look! Look at the chaos moving through every cell! Iterating! Adapting! Becoming! Thriving! Watch the pollinators tirelessly at work, observe the mycorrhizal network in the forest floor distributing the rich fruits of decay and photosynthesis for every inhabitant! Pay attention! We belong here too. They feed and shelter us, give us the very air we breathe, and in return we plant and propagate, cull, thin, and burn, shape, trample, till, shepherd and sprout seeds. Our species can look toward the future, to the world of our descendants. We can call every plant and animal by name and teach our children to use and care for them responsibly. We can feel this anger, pain, and grief on behalf of the family of Life, OUR family, and we can love the smallest beetle and the humblest moss.
Look at it! This thing is nothing like me, it does not benefit me, it has no use or purpose for me, but LOOK at it! Look at its intricate structure! Look at the marvelousness of its behaviors and biological functions! Look at its uniqueness throughout the whole universe! Look at it, and see its infinite value!
I saved a baby tree from the scorching hot gravel of a parking lot. I watched it grow and thrive in the hands of its caretaker. Many more followed, trees and herbs and flowers, rescued and carefully placed in cups and old tubs that once held yogurt and sour cream. This is so strange, I thought. They're everywhere, offering themselves for free, and no one thinks to take them. Everyone thinks transplanting a tree is hard and that nothing grows on the edge of the pavement but weeds. But it's so easy??? This is weird. Plant Nurseries Hate Her: Get Free Plants With This One Weird Trick.
I protected an old barren garden patch where nothing had thrived from being mowed and weed-whacked, and transplanted little plants that I found. I marveled at the bees that came. Chicory bloomed, then asters and goldenrod. I shed actual tears over a spicebush swallowtail. I ordered some milkweed from the internet, and the monarchs came for them. Less then twenty-five bucks for a divine experience like this. Wow, everyone else really needs to know!
I started volunteering at a nature center, and was allowed to transplant flowers where they sprouted in inopportune locations. I collected tons of seeds all fall and winter long.
There is much, much more, all of it bigger than I ever would have imagined. But this spring there were more birds, in number and in species, than I'd ever seen in my back yard before. Chickadees, swallows, finches, nuthatches, jays, cardinals, warblers, sparrows, woodpeckers of every kind...I remembered just a couple years prior when all I ever saw out there was a couple grackles or starlings or robins, with the occasional sparrow. Those birds come in flocks rather than couples now. And then the bumblebee arrived. An American bumblebee, endangered now, a queen. For a few days she was always out there, would fly out and buzz around me when I came out to tend to my now-innumerable plants. It's nesting time for them. She chose this place I was creating. She saw that this place would take care of her.
A week ago, I discovered wild strawberries growing in my Mamaw's driveway. I found lyreleaf sage growing beside a gravel road. I've become a master of transplanting; I took several of each home. Yesterday, I saw a tiny, metallic blue bee, an Osmia mason bee. Today, I saw an oriole and a strange, very fancy fly. I see something new almost every day. Every day I am being irreversibly changed as a person. How did I ever fail to see how much this matters?
I said I feel hope...do I feel it? I don't think it's a feeling, I think it's a practice. It's being part of our communities and our ecosystems. Nature's interconnectedness is both reality and example: to survive, we take care of one another. And when one member of the community helps another thrive, it creates a cascade that increases the thriving of all. Just by existing, you help us all survive.
You can only take care of so many plants before you have to give some away. You can only hold so much knowledge before you have to give it away. I gave seeds to a dozen different flowers to my next-door neighbor and she invited me inside and wouldn't let me leave without food, and we talked about plants and trees. A family friend lets me have goats' milk and heirloom vegetables in exchange for help around the farm, and I listen to him talk about trees, bugs, and soil and learn so much I feel like I'm about to explode from knowledge.
Being a caretaker is unavoidably a community-oriented, community-forming thing. You can't grow plants all by yourself. Your garden will make too many tomatoes. Share them. Your milkweed will make hundreds and hundreds of seeds. Spread them. Wild blackberries invite you to take and eat. Your lonely retired neighbor invites you to talk and keep her company. Once you grow delicious fruits or little oak trees, you always have a reason to greet someone and say, "Look, it is a gift!"
We're not alone. We are not separate. We take care of each other. Every species, every individual. A single action of caretaking creates a cascade effect of thriving. A single unapologetic love for a creature creates a blossom of curiosity and fascination in everyone surrounding. It's so powerful.
As my chemical romance says "I am not afraid to keep on living"
#nature#community#plants#gardening#you are not separate from every other thing#the wonders#caretaking#plantarchy
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I'm writing a story where a major character is slowly spiraling into madness where small details kinda hint into the downfall right before the bigger details appear and then it the floodgates open. Is there anything I should avoid? Anything that I should keep in mind? Anything that I should research?
1st vs. 3rd POV For Mad Characters
This may sound irresponsible for someone who gives out writing tips, but the best method to figure out the best POV character is to test 2-3 out (just try writing the first chapter) to see if it works the way you expected it to.
Here are some factors to consider when you’re writing an MC who is mad:
The extent to which you want to capture their internal world
The extent to which you can afford to “warp” descriptions of the external world (while not getting your readers lost)
How much you want your readers to sympathize with the character
What you feel comfortable with. How much you actually know about the mental condition they’re going through will be REALLY important and easy to tell in 1st person POV. For 3rd person POVs, there’s more wiggle room.
First Person MC POV
The POV that takes the most research and careful balancing between actual description and the “insane” descriptions.
Since the reader cannot see beyond a mad character’s head, it can be difficult to tell what’s “actually happening” at times.Many writers have used this as a major plot twist, given that it comes with careful structuring so that enough evidences are left for the readers which all come together at the end.
Be ready to make use of side characters who are more capable of telling readers the truth
If the focus is more on the process of going mad, this is the best POV to fully explore how a character can live in their own bubble.
Third Person Omniscient
Even when writing in third person omniscient, you’ll typically follow a main character from whose perspective you follow the story.
It’s more convenient to jump into side characters to let the readers know what’s reality from the madness-induced beliefs of the MC.
If the MC’s madness is one that is hard to justify(criminal mindset), it’s easier to use 3rd Person to distance yourself a little
First Person Observer POV
Whether you can have an effective 3rd person observer at all will depend on the kind of madness your MC is falling into. For sociopathic insane characters, it doesn’t make sense to have someone who can follow them closely enough to provide description.
Think about why and how this narrative character will follow the MC around
I think 3rd person observers work best when you explore how mad characters are judged/helped by those around them throughout their journey.
This may come more naturally to us since we are technically observers who will watch this character go mad.
My final rec: start with 3rd person observer POV, then try out one other POV for the first chapter to decide.
#writers block#writing#writers and poets#creative writing#writers on tumblr#helping writers#writeblr#poets and writers#resources for writers#let's write#creative writers#writerscommunity#writing process#writing prompt#writing inspiration#writing tips#on writing#writing advice#writer#writing community#writers of tumblr#writer stuff#writer community#writer things#writer problems#writer on tumblr
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I genuinely don't understand what y'all mean by "ok to kill enemies." Everytime it comes up I feel less and less confident I am following the conversation.
D&D kind of has, as part of its DNA, the idea that combat will eventually happen in the game. To that end, throughout the history of the game there have been many different types of guy that in the text of the game have been presented as like almost self-evidently okay to kill simply because. While different editions of the game have tried to move away from some of the more overtly problematic portrayals of this (basically saying that certain types of humanoids are okay to kill because they look funny and live in caves is kinda fucked up), the truth is that pretty much every attempt to look for a suitable Boogeyman that player characters can kill without any iffy ethics about it is going to end up really weird.
Anyway this is why people will often look for types of guy to present as enemies where characters can engage in no-thoughts-head-empty lethal sports with them without anyone needing to have a "wait a minute, are we the baddies?" moment. Demons and the undead are pretty easy to go for here.
My personal favorite approach is to just accept the fact that D&D kinda sucks with black-and-white morality and instead of making the conflict in the world about clear good and evil teams make it about different groups of people with different goals. Orcs can be present but they're no longer "the evil guys it's always morally okay to kill because of biotruths" but instead just some guys who might sometimes have violent disagreements with other people.
Anyway a lot of this stuff doesn't mean anything and as said not engaging with games as texts on this level isn't really necessary to enjoy them. But for me at least it can often elevate gameplay. When bandits aren't just some guys who decided to become evil criminals some day but actual people whose banditry is a response to something going on in the world and their lives, it suddenly makes the conflicts in the world a lot more real and grounded (and sometimes killing those bandits can be the right thing to do, but sometimes negotiating with them or even cooperating them can be the right thing to do. Basically, once you start thinking about all the different types of Guy that inhabit the worlds of D&D not just as game tokens that player characters can hit to make XP come out [although that is also fine and dandy as a playstyle] but as living thinking creatures with actual goals, the types of narratives the game starts to produce also expands a hundredfold.)
Anyway I'm not sure if that answers your question because I went on like a bunch of tangents. But it was also kind of a vague question.
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life and loss | joel miller
pairing: dave york x f!reader / joel miller x f!reader word count: 1k content warnings: 18+ blog; death, grief/loss, major character death (no description of said death), AU and crossover universes, kind of fluffy, navigating loss, reader is non descriptive/blank slate. notes: this randomly came to me yesterday on my walk. It was meant to be just a moodboard and a small blurb to go along with it… and then this happened. Oops! Tried to pack a lot into a small thing so hopefully it makes sense.
Momentos of him, your late husband, have remained tucked away for the last year following his unexpected death. As you settle into your new widowed life and new home over a thousand miles away from the life you created with Dave, all the beautiful memories reside in cardboard boxes out of sight.
Word travels quickly through the small neighborhood about your arrival and marital status— or lack thereof. Welcoming introductions turn into unannounced check-ins and flowers. Uncomfortable small talk on your front porch is sprinkled throughout the following weeks, a hand on your shoulder accentuates their let us know if you need anything. Sympathetic casseroles finally dwindle allowing you to finally ease into this new season of your life.
The hammock left by the previous owners becomes your sanctuary most evenings. Searching for the brightest star in the night’s sky, then asking Dave how he’s doing before reading aloud to him the words from your latest book.
It's days later when you’ve read the final word that a small voice from over the fence manifests as a quirky teenage girl sitting at a table you’ve set up on your back patio. She has a million and one questions about the book and is filled with theories about what happens beyond its ending. The side gate is never regularly latched closed now, eagerly awaiting Ellie’s return. She navigates most of your late night conversations that follow, including personal stories and the history of her life. My grump of an old man is in construction. He’s single by the way— not by choice, but life happens.
His voice is calloused the first time he makes his presence known to you. Goddamn it, Ellie! I told you to leave her alone! They exchange brittle words back and forth through the shared barrier, before you insist he join the two of you. The crunch of his boots on the ground stall when he towers over where you’re still seated. His hand engulfing yours, warm and gentle as he tries to determine where his gaze should fall— you, the ground, the smirking teenager sitting across from you. Joel. Joel Miller. Uh, Ellie n’ I live next door. Not sure how long she’s been botherin’ you, but I’ll be sure it doesn’t happen again.
It’s weeks later when you run into Joel at the mailboxes. The clanking of keys and squeaky hinges fill the space between you before you’re both retreating back to your respective pathways. Your hands fidget and twist the bills and letters from your parents when you bravely initiate a conversation before he’s able to reach his front door. She’s the first person since moving here who wanted to talk to me about something other than the death of my husband. I don’t think I’ve laughed as much as I have with her in a long time. She’s welcome over here anytime.
He reeks of nervousness as he stands on your doorstep the following evening. The ambered hue of his eyes absorb the warmth from the front porch light, adding a brightness to them that they seem to be commonly lacking. His words waver a bit as he begins to speak, starting and stopping, scrubbing his hand down his face before he attempts to start again. You offer him nothing but patience, sensing the mournful energy radiating off him— similar to the one you’ve been carrying. My wife and older daughter— they were both in an accident on their way to Sarah’s soccer game. I was pickin’ up Ellie from her counseling group for adopted kids. We were headin’ to the soccer field when I got the call. Some days are harder than others. And everyone wants to help, however that may be— lots of food as I’m sure you know. It doesn’t ever really get easier, but you learn to live with grief. Anyways, if you ever need anything or just want to talk— you know where I live.
He accepts your impulsive invitation to join you for dinner, offering him the open seat across from you in the same spot as your timid first meeting. The crickets orchestrate the evening ambience as you share stories you’d tucked away, too painful to revisit until now. You find you laugh just as much, if not more, with Joel. Even among the tears shed, the conversation is filled with a hope and optimism that you longed for.
You still feel his wholesome embrace long after you’ve called it a night to seek out much needed sleep. But much like the nights that ensued after Dave’s death, loneliness and the weight of your grief rear its head.
The black ink glides over the surface of the paper. Line after line formulated a year’s worth of unsaid words that had been bottled up and blockaded by the rigid walls you’d built around them. Joel was right about the therapeutic effect of getting rid of the burdensome thoughts that come with loss, finding it’s hard to stop now that you’ve started.
You convey the love that you still carry for Dave, something you’ll never willfully ignore or regret. It feels wrong but you touch on the hatred you feel towards his death; you hate him for leaving you, hate that you miss him, hate that some nights you forget the small details that you cherished about him. You tell him about Joel and the kindness he’s afforded you in a short time of knowing him and that there’s life beyond losing the love of your life. To look for the light even when shrouded by darkness.
Pictures and trinkets find their way out of the cardboard confines Joel helped pull out from the guest room closet. The bare walls now filled with familiar faces and shelves adorn with colorful memories that you tried so hard to keep hidden.
Joel and Ellie being a constant presence in your life allows you to see that life can surprise you when you least expect it and there’s room for new love.
#Dave york#joel miller#dave york x reader#dave york x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#pedro pascal#wildemaven moodboard#dave york imagine#joel miller imagine#wildemaven writes
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So I'm thinking of going on low dose T, and ofc I'll get more feedback from doctors when I see them, but I know one of the changes is that you run warmer and have lower heat tolerance, and I'm already kind of heat sensitive (sweating is a sensory ick). Do you or your followers have any kind of coping strategies that have helped with that?
I ran warm before, too, and I'm definitely warmer now! I also have Raynaud's which kind of makes the whole experience a clusterfuck, but that's besides the point. lmao.
I live in a pretty cool/temperate area, so it isn't normally an issue except in the (increasingly horrible) summers, but I've found that the hardest time to stay cool has been at night. I share a bed with my partner who runs even warmer, and it's been 2.5 years of struggling to figure out how to be a comfortable temperature together.
The best advice I can give you is to just stay as far away from synthetic fibers as you can; "sweat wicking" and "cooling" and "athletic" stuff included. It's a lie. They're all plastic, and while they might feel cool to the touch at first, plastic doesn't breathe. It'll trap heat and moisture against your skin after enough time, especially in the form of blankets. (Fuck the Rest Evercool. Worst recommendation I've ever gotten.)
Look for 100% linen, or 100% cotton. I've heard wool also works well, but I haven't had luck with that personally. Woven fabrics are going to be cooler and more breathable than sateen, and waffle weave is like, the single most breathable weave afaik (it's more common in blankets, but some clothes are waffle).
Some of these things can be pretty scratchy at first, and I recommend a couple of washes on a high heat & some fabric softener before you start using them. We were able to break in our waffle blanket super quickly this way! (I know some folks recommend against softener for breathability reasons, but it's the only thing that actually worked for us, and it hasn't impacted breathability). After you break them in, though, cotton and linen fabrics are SUPER soft!
I also recommend staying away from leather. It's natural, but trust me: it's not breathable. It's coveted in outdoor rec spaces BECAUSE it's somewhat waterproof.
Outside of that, I'd really encourage you to lean towards multiple light layers that you can change/remove throughout the day to suit your needs (ex: light tee + fleece + wind/rain layer, maybe throw in a flannel somewhere), instead of one or two heavy ones (ex: shirt + big puffy cold weather jacket). It's a strategy common in the PNW that works great for regulating your temperature when you're dealing with humidity and somewhat unpredictable weather, and imo, it also really translates if you're just generally sensitive to heat and sweat.
Outside of that... depending on where you live, I really recommend having an AC/dehumidifier. Don't bother with trying to rig up a swamp cooler if you're sensitive to sweat- the increased humidity will make things worse. The general advice I heard when researching a good AC was that window units will always be more efficient than portable units (and a mini split is better than either), but if you have to go with a portable unit, go with a dual-hose. They'll be more efficient just because they don't create a vacuum that pulls in warm air from outside. This is the model we settled on- it was really highly recommended and cost effective for what it is, and it's been absolutely fantastic this summer.
Idk how you are about pits, but I wash mine with a benzoyl body wash and then use a deodorant with antiperspirant every day, and I virtually never smell or sweat. 🤷♂️ ymmv though
I'm sure folks will have things to add, so check the notes on this post- and good luck!
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‘ 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘 .
you took interest in someone you never thought you would.
arminxreader, black!reader, 90s highschool based, language throughout, sexual references throughout (maybe not in this chapter), hood themed, mental /some physical abuse, armin referred to as ‘white boy armin’, all characters are 18+ except for the ones that obviously aren’t and in the beginning, NO PROOFREAD YALL.
“aye, white boy.”
“white boy armin!”
“you’re a disappointment, armin.”
“mommy loves you, armin. okay?”
he lived up to those same words and phrases everyday, nothing new. it’s just the way he lived. growing up from hearing his mom and dad argue every single damn day, shits annoying. especially when the attention moved on to him.
and he was only 12.
“you don’t know what he goes through at school, or even here, because you’re not around enough!” that was his mom.
“i don’t give a shit what happens at school or here. i don’t want him to grow up like the rest of the kids on these streets. look at where we fuckin live, woman! you actually think he’s gonna have fun here?” that was his dad. he hates his dad. he was always yelling, and drinking, and yelling again.
but armin was quiet. he didn’t really get to have a say in things, but even when he did, he didn’t say anything.
“yo, armin! can you come out today?” eren asked, across the street of armin’s house. he stood up and glanced back at his house, shrugging.
and then there were the streets. the damn hood streets where a lot of shit happens, a lot of shit was seen. but he had to be some kind of ‘privileged white boy’? no. did he wanna be? no. but he didn’t like where he lived. he only grew to like it, especially when you came into the picture.
now you were one of the girls that everyone wanted to talk to at school, the one with the good style and the good personality that every boy always wanted to kiss or date.
“this armin. he cool, real chill. he quiet but you know, you gon’ start liking him when y’all get closer.” ony said. you all walked the sidewalks together, them walking you home to make sure you were safe on the way. ‘them’ being eren, ony, and armin. eren knew armin the longest, and he would be considered to be ‘white boy eren’, but he wasn’t even from around there. he went to a different school, and fought almost everywhere he went, which is why he wasn’t from around there anymore.
“you new here or sum? or you just quiet.” you looked up at him, holding your backpack on your shoulder.
“quiet.” he muttered, looking away.
he wasn’t gonna lie when he said he didn’t really like you at first. but as years went by, it was more of you he could stand.
“boy i don’t want you. i already said that.” you looked at a boy as you closed your locker.
“bi-“
“say it. i want you to.” armin said, leaning against a locker behind the guy, making him turn around. “who the fuck you posed to be? oh. that white boy.” he scoffed.
armin raised his eyebrows.
yeah, that was his third fight that month.
and the third time his dad yelled at him in that week.
“why the hell am i gettin’ calls from the school saying you’re suspended again? see, this is why you need to stay in the damn house and be homeschooled—!”
as he kept rambling, armin closed the fridge and sighed, walking upstairs.
“don’t walk away from me when i’m fucking talking to you, arlert!” his dad slammed his beer glass down and followed armin.
“so i can’t walk and listen at the same time? ight.” armin mumbled.
“the fuck did you just say?” his dad squinted, making his way to his room.
armin turned around. “i said-“ “honey, just leave him alone. he hasn’t did anything bad, maybe he was just defending his self!” his mom rushed in the picture, but was shoved out of the way. his dad grabbed his shirt and pinned him against the wall.
“listen you little shit. you talk back to me again and i’ll break your fuckin’ face. i don’t know where you get your attitude from, but you need to shut the hell up like you did when you were younger.” his dad snapped through gritted teeth. armin’s breathing got heavy and he bit his bottom lip with a force, nearly making his own lip bleed.
“just get off of him!” his mom yelled.
his dad stared into his eyes, fuming with anger. he shoved him against the wall one last time before turning and stoping downstairs. armin stood there for a few seconds before going in his room, slamming the door behind him.
he threw his self down on his bed and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes with a slight frown. that’s when he got a text.
ony
yo u tryna hoop?
he tossed his phone down beside him and sniffed, getting up and looking through his drawers for basketball shorts and a t-shirt.
he changed his clothes and shoes, fixing his hair in the mirror before grabbing his second backpack and his phone, walking out of his room.
he went downstairs and to his kitchen, where his mom washed the dishes. “where you headed, sweetie?” she asked. “bouda hoop, Ma. ill be back tonight.” he grabbed a bottle of water and walked towards the front door. “don’t come too late.” his mom said before blowing him a kiss.
armin nodded and shut the door behind him, starting to walk out of the driveway and down the sidewalk. the walk was like 5 minutes. 5 minutes that he didn’t care about because nothing else in his life was that important.
but when he made it, it was slightly better.
“i know that ain’t white boy armin, man i heard you got suspended today.” one of his friends dapped him up. “yeah, ian worried bout that. i just wanna hoop right now.” he walked towards the basketball goal with ony, jean, and connie.
“wassup, Arm’. you ain’t been here in a minute.” connie chuckled, patting his back. “ight, let’s go.”
and there you were, sitting on the bench by yourself, simply because ony dragged you there. sasha and mikasa had extra work to do that day, so you were the only girl there. you didn’t have a problem with it tho, because you knew everyone there.
“want me to watch and he can’t even make the shot.” you whispered to yourself with a small chuckle, pulling out your phone to find something better to entertain yourself with.
after about an hour, yeah, an hour of being there for no reason, you saw someone coming over to you. you looked up to see armin. he sat at the bench, a few inches away from you, wiping his sweat and checking his phone.
“you good?” you frowned a little. “yeah.” he mumbled. you hummed, guessing he didn’t really wanna have a conversation with you at the moment.
“ain’t you ony girl?” he tilted his head. “i thought you was in our lil group. no, we not together.” you shook your head, watching the rest of the boys continue to play basketball.
“um, thank you for defending me or whatever at school. i hate when boys do the shit they do.” you said. “don’t even mention it.” he mumbled. you looked at him for a minute before something caught your eye. “you got a scratch.” you pointed to his finger.
“hm.” he looked at you.
you smacked your lips and pointed, grabbing his hand. “a scratch.” you said before looking closer. “oh, that’s glass. you ain’t feel that?” you asked, sitting his hand on your lap and trying to get the glass out by yourself.
he didn’t really mind it, so he let you, despite the small amounts of pain that shot through his finger every time you touched it.
“nah. not until you pointed it out.” he mumbled, leaning back.
you threw the small shard of glass under the bench and reached in your small purse, grabbing a bandaid.
“you actually keep bandaids in yo purse?” he asked. you shrugged with a small smile. “i know y’all boys be easy to scratch up.” you said, rubbing the bandaid on his finger before letting go of his hand.
armin looked at you for a few seconds before humming. “that’s prolly just me.”
you laughed and shook your head. “well. you ain’t sweating no more. you could go back out there.” you pointed, right before jean called him back on the court.
armin smacked his lips a little and nodded slowly, standing up and walking over to the rest of the boys.
you decided to watch them start playing again, glancing at a different person every time someone stole or passed the ball. it was a few minutes back in, some people took their shirts off. but only one caught your eye.
‘he that fit?’ you thought to yourself, seeing armin’s abs and arms. his arms had a little muscle, and of course he wasn’t buff buff. but it did look like he worked out a little. or more than that.
you continued to watch them play, your eyes never leaving him.
even when he glanced back at you, standing to the side of one of their dumb free throws.
his lip quirked a half smile a little before he got back to playing. and again, minutes passed, a lot of minutes, to hours. that’s when everyone finally decided to go home.
“come on, y/n.” ony yawned, grabbing his things. the streetlights were on now, and everyone was getting tired. you were about to stand up until you heard the basketball bouncing again.
“i’m… just gon stay here wit’ armin til he wanna leave. i’ll text you when i get home.” you mumbled.
“ight. be safe.” ony flicked your forehead before walking out of the gate with connie.
you hummed and looked back over to armin who just dribbled and shot the ball for a few more minutes. that was until he sighed, making one last shot and letting the ball fall, turning around.
you saw him pause, probably being jumpscared by how you were just sitting there, before holding his chest and letting out a deep sigh. “what the fuck?” he walked over to you. “why you still here?” he asked, grabbing his things.
“ian want you to be alone. duh.” you got up as he grabbed his things. you grabbed your purse and phone, waiting on armin to finish packing his stuff.
“you coulda just went home.”
“i know that.”
“don’t you got some typa curfew?” armin asked, starting to walk. you walked beside him. “no, and you do?” you looked up at him. “nah. i just think it’s weird how you would randomly wait for me. no problem wit it tho. ‘preciate it.” he said.
“cus ion want you to be here alone.” you said as you both left the gate and started to walk down the street.
“well how you gettin home? i know you live on the other side of the block.” he mumbled. “the good side.”
you smacked your lips with a smile. “ion live on the good side. shit still happens there. the neighborhood still boring as fuck. i just… don’t pay attention to it.” you shrugged.
you continued to walk and talk until you both made it to armin’s house.
armin suddenly stopped. “we gon have to go around.”
“why?”
“ion want you walkin home alone.”
“why would i be walking home alone if my house is right behind the fence of yours?” you started walking to the side, and backyard of his house.
“hol’ up, huh?”
“hold on, lift me.” you grabbed the top of the fence. “uh.. okay.” armin muttered, letting you step on his hands.
when you were halfway across, you sat there for a second.
“thanks for walking me home.” you smiled a little, hopping down and walking towards your own house, leaving armin confused.
“well damn.” he pursed his lips together, picking his things back up and walking towards his house.
after that… well, you don’t even remember. all you know is, that was the one time you two got close.
the one time, just for now.
part two here!
#aot headcanons#aot x reader#armin x black reader#armin aot#armin x you#armin arlert#armin x reader#armin headcanons#armin x y/n#armin fluff#aot armin#armin arlet x reader#armin x black y/n#armin arlet x black reader
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hiya! i live for your stories, i’m kind of addicted lol
could you please write 2010 tom meeting reader’s family for the first time over dinner, charming the shit out of them while teasing reader throughout the whole dinner, then sneaking off to the bathroom and… 🤭
TIME AND PLACE - T. KAULITZ
synopsis: tom meets your parents for the first time, and he is a lot more relaxed than you are - perhaps too relaxed, teasing you beyond belief whilst your family are completely oblivious, the two of you ending up in the downstairs bathroom, trying to stay as quiet as possible.
content: smut
a/n: LOVEEEE this idea thank u so much for requesting anon! also can we please talk ab how hot he looks in this clip like i’m going insane, coincidentally it fits w this request so i had to use it. i also wanted to say thank you for 400 followers, i only had like two when i started LMAO so thank u to everyone that has followed thus far!! 💞
“baby, calm down, everything is going to be fine. what’s the worst that can happen?” tom says as we climb out of the car.
“you clearly don’t know my parents tom.” i laugh, taking a deep breath and praying for some sort of miracle. my parents are classy, reserved people, with respectable jobs, and pretty traditional viewpoints - in other words exactly what my boyfriend isn’t. “just please, don’t mess this up. i really want them to like you.”
he smiles softly, closing the car door behind him, walking around to the other side where i am standing, placing his hands on my lower waist and kissing my lips softly.
“i’ll try, i promise. you’re getting worked up over nothing.” he says, pressing his lips to my forehead, pulling me into a short hug. i pull away, my hands resting on his chest as i inspect his appearance, straightening his jacket and brushing off any imperfections from the material.
he chuckles at my panicked state, softly grabbing my hands and shaking his head. “it’s going to be fine.” he repeats, rubbing my shoulder comfortingly before taking my hand and beginning the short walk up my parents’ driveway. “besides, what’s not to like about me? i’m funny, charming, sexy, kind, famous - i tick every box.”
i shake my head, pushing his chest lightly as i stifle a laugh. “seriously, my parents are hard to please. you wont be able to win them over as easy as you did me.”
“hm, we’ll see. i think i’ll surprise you.” he states, stopping once we reach the front door, my hand hesitantly reaching to place a few firm taps on it, my other squeezing tom’s in an attempt to calm my nerves. he notices this, running his thumb up and down the skin soothingly, whispering a small ‘don’t worry’ from beside me, the door opening as my mom stand there, wide smile on her face once she sees me.
“honey!” my mom grins, opening her arms out and pulling me into a tight hug. after moving to the city with tom and touring with the band, i hadn’t seen as much of my parents as i usually would, missing them more than i had realised. she pulls away, eyes turning to tom.
“you must be the famous tom. i’ve heard a lot about you.” she says, forcing a small smile on her face, though i can tell that she is silently judging him, not yet bold enough to say her thoughts out loud. her eyes turn to mine whilst she gives tom a quick hug, my face tensing as i shoot her a knowing look, immediately seeing the way that she has made her assumptions about tom.
“all good things i hope ma’am.” he smiles, pulling away from the hug and taking my hand, my mom moving aside to let us both inside the house. it is clean, my mom always insistent on keeping it spotless - a slight smudge of dirt on the floor, or photo frame out of place and she would lose it. the faint smell of lasagna wafts around the place, the aroma bringing me some sense of comfort through its familiarity - the dish had always been my father’s specialty for as long as i could remember.
“where’s dad?” i ask, tom’s hand still touching mine as my eyes wander around the large living room. it is his turn to be nervous now - i can tell from the way his hand doesn’t leave my own, feet anxiously tapping against the floor.
“in the kitchen, preparing dinner. it won’t be much longer now, you can sit down, and tom, make yourself at home honey.” she says, shooting him a warm smile before she disappears out of the living room, leaving tom and i alone. i sit down on the couch, shrugging my jacket off, leaving me in my purple summer dress - sophisticated yet casual. tom, as usual, is adorned in all black: bandana tied around his forehead, oversized t-shirt and an even bigger pair of jeans, complete with a plain jacket. he had wanted to dress up a little, yet i had convinced him otherwise, not wanting him to pretend to be something that he isn’t, deciding that my parents can like him for who he truly is, or not at all.
he sits beside me, placing a gentle hand over my thigh, rubbing the bare skin softly.
“you okay?” he asks, planting a quick kiss to my cheek, intertwining his fingers with mine, his leg still bobbing up and down.
“mhm.” i say, taking my free hand and placing it over his leg, stopping its fast movements. “are you? you’ve gotten all skittish.”
he chuckles lowly, shaking his head and clearing his throat. “just…not sure if your mom likes me.” he shrugs his shoulders, looking downwards.
“she’s the most blunt woman i know. trust me, if she didn’t like you, you’d know about it.” i answer truthfully, knowing that my mother has never been one to hide her opinions - she makes it painfully obvious how she feels and, besides from her slightly off introduction, it seemed that at least to me, she liked tom. “besides, since when do you get nervous, mr cool?”
a small laugh leaves my lips, a teasing smile playing on them, not used to seeing tom anxious. he is usually the most confident person i know, yet now he seems panicked, and the sight is strange to me, but, he shrugs it off.
“i’m not nervous.” he insists, about to continue, though he is soon cut off by the voice of my mom sounding from the kitchen.
“dinner!”
tom sighs, standing up as i follow. he wraps his arms around my lower back, leaning in to give my lips a few soft pecks, smiling into the short kisses that he places on them, giving my ass a teasing squeeze. his eyes are playful, a hint of indisputable mischief illuminating the sea of brown, one eyebrow slightly raised - i know that look far too well to see that it isn’t one of innocence. he has something on his mind, this not the time or place.
“get that look off of your face. not here, absolutely not.” i state, looking upwards at him and shaking my head, straightening my dress and taking his hand, leading him out of the room.
“what look?” he asks, attempting to act oblivious, a slight smirk tugging on his lips. i tut from in front of him, sending him a quick glance as we approach the dining room, my dad laying out the food and my mom taking a seat at the table.
we both take our seats, sat opposite my mom and dad. having never met my father before, i expect tom to be hesitant to speak - my dad doesn’t exactly look to be an approachable person. yet, he makes the first move, much to my surprise.
“i’m tom. nice to meet you sir.” tom smiles politely, nodding his head and holding his hand out for my dad to shake.
clearly shocked by tom’s politeness, my father’s eyes widen, hand reaching outwards and briefly shaking tom’s, before sitting back in his seat.
“ted.” my dad states simply, taking a sip of his wine before continuing. “great to see my daughter has brought home a man with manners, good on you, tom.”
i send my father a glare from across the table, tom smiling weakly in response, his eyes falling to the food in front of him.
“this looks amazing, thank you so much.” tom says, looking upwards as my parents mutter a small thanks, a brief silence looming over us. i turn to tom, seeing that same playful look on his face, much more prominent this time. i quickly shake my head, putting whatever thoughts that are in his mind at bay, shutting them down before he can even consider acting on them. one hand grasping his fork, he digs it into the food on his plate, the other trailing downwards ever so slowly, reaching the hem of my summer dress.
my eyes widen, unsure of how to act, my hand instinctively reacting to move tom’s away, yet i am soon stopped by the voice of my father. tom doesn’t slow his movements, instead they become more calculated, his hand snaking further and further up my dress. somehow, he acts nonchalant, facing away from me, eyes attentively looking at my father as he speaks.
“so tom, what is it that you do exactly?” my father asks, placing a mouthful of food in his mouth after speaking.
tom clears his throat, his fingers dipping teasingly into my panties under the tablecloth, my eyes widening as i attempt to act natural, tom able to do so with ease. “i’m in a band, i’m the guitarist.” he states, fingers continuing to toy with the lace material, dipping further inwards ever so slightly, causing me to fidget in my seat, attempting to hide what is going on.
“goodness can you sit still? i’ve never seen you shuffle in your seat so much!” my mother laughs, shaking her head and focusing her eyes on me. tom seems to find this particularly funny, his lips curving into a satisfied grin, knowing exactly why i am so squeamish, him being the reason, my parents totally unaware of the position his fingers are in. he lets out a small chuckle beside me, shaking my head as my mother did, faking a look of concern.
“are you okay?” he asks, his voice seeming a little worried, though the second i turn to face him, i can see the glint of mischief in his eyes as he knows exactly what he is doing, roping my parents in as they buy his concern.
just as i begin to reply, he slips one finger into my folds, a small gasp leaving my lips. my mother furrows her eyebrows, looking directly at me, clearly confused at my weird behaviour. my hand flies to cover my mouth, also in an attempt to disguise the light shade of crimson that my cheeks are turning, completely humiliated. though i manage to play the suspicious sound off as a hiccup, quietly excusing myself afterwards. “i’m fine, just a little warm.”
the entire thing is hilarious to tom, his lips curved into a smile so small it is almost unnoticeable, never fading as he engages in conversation with my father, his fingers continuing their restrained movements inside my panties, positioning themselves to toy with my clit.
“this band, is it really a sustainable career for you? how much do you earn? surely, it can’t be much.” my father states, unimpressed by tom’s job, failing to realise how successful he actually is.
tom laughs quietly, taking a breath inwards, discreetly slipping a finger inside of me, my teeth sinking into my tongue, clamping down onto it in an attempt to hide the moans dangerously close to spilling from my lips, his finger moving in and out of me at a teasingly slow pace. besides from this, he remains calm, too calm, considering that he is pleasuring me under the table - my parents totally unaware as tom somehow manages to win them over, this only pissing me off even more.
“no sir, i actually do pretty well for myself. we are quite well known, not just in germany, but we often do shows in america and other places. i make a great living out of it, actually.” tom is confident in his tone without being cocky, my father nodding slowly, seemingly satisfied with his response. he opens his mouth once again, about to ask tom another question, though when tom’s finger hits a certain spot inside me, a small whine from the back of my throat quickly stops him.
“are you okay? what is going on with you tonight honey?” my mom frowns, somehow not catching onto what is happening. tom remains unfazed, still pumping his digit in and out of me slowly.
“sorry, i’m just feeling a little under the weather. i must be coming down with something.” i apologise, forcing a brief smile as my mother nods her head, digging her fork back into the food whilst my father continues to interrogate tom.
“and how long is it the two of you have been dating?” he asks, his finger flicking between tom and i, though his question is directed mainly at tom.
“what is it now? two months, am i wrong schatz?” tom asks, knowing how long we have been dating without any doubt in his mind, though he deliberately places this attention on me, looking at me with that same smirk as my father’s eyes soon follow.
tom’s fingers pump in and out of me, his pace speeding up a little, my thighs clenching together at the feeling. sending him a quick glare, i clear my throat, trying to act as unsuspecting as possible. “yeah, two months, that’s right.” i say, nodding my head quickly, desperate to turn the attention away from myself, though it doesn’t take long for me to fail miserably.
“you look awfully warm, you’re sweating honey. do you need to step outside, maybe get some fresh air?” my mom says, tom’s fingers slipping out of me as she utters those words, my lips pursing slightly at the lack of contact. i turn to him momentarily as he sends a brief wink in my direction before taking a bite of his food, looking away from me as if nothing had happened.
“yeah, that’s a good idea. i’ll be right back. sorry.”
i quickly stand up, shaking my head and rushing out of the room, sighing in relief when i open the bathroom door, quickly closing it behind me.
i take a look in the mirror - my cheeks flushed, hair slightly frizzy, faint line of sweat glistening on my forehead, all thanks to the smug bastard back there. my hands turn the tap, cold water rushing out of it as i use it to begin splashing my face, attempting to regulate my body temperature, tom managing to get it so high with his actions.
the door swiftly moves open, my head shooting upward as i am met with tom’s eyes, his expression somewhat calm despite what he had just done.
“are you fucking serious? the fuck was that?” i hiss, hitting his chest in anger, my face falling in disbelief when all he does is chuckle at my temper, clearly failing to understand how mad i am at him in this moment.
instead, he hushes me, muttering out a small ‘be quiet’ before pushing my body harshly against the wall, his lips roughly colliding with mine moments after. his hands find my waist, running up and down soothingly, kissing my lips deeply, his desperation communicated through the hunger of his kisses. despite my anger, i quickly kiss back, my hands reaching upward to his face, pulling him closer to me, my fingers raking through his braids, momentarily running over the soft fabric of his black bandana.
“i don’t know why you’re acting so pissed off.” he whispers against my lips between kisses, becoming more rough with his movements. “you act like you’re angry, but you didn’t tell me to stop, did you? why?”
i stay silent, attempting to ignore his question, instead pushing his face even closer to mine, deepening the kiss and slipping my tongue into his mouth.
“i can tell you why.” he states matter of factly, pressing his body against mine, his hard on prominent through his jeans. “you didn’t want me to. you liked me touching you, even though your parents were right there, didn’t you, hm?”
i whine lowly in response, palming him through his jeans, watching the way his mouth falls open slightly, an almost inaudible groan escaping from it. i can sense his desperation, hell, it was clear the second he gave me that look in the living room, and it had failed to go away for the entirety of the evening. if i weren’t equally as needy, i would be scolding him, calling him out for his stupidity, though i am just as reckless as him, bringing him closer into me as i kiss his lips, moaning into it.
“we gotta be quick baby, okay?” he mumbles against me, his hands moving downwards to hoist me upwards, placing me roughly on the bathroom counter, clearly paying little attention as a few things fall onto the floor with a quiet thud. i hit his chest, pulling away momentarily, though he doesn’t seem to care, shrugging his shoulders and moving his hands underneath my dress to tug my panties off.
he lets them pool at my feet, hurriedly undoing the buckle on his belt, letting his own jeans fall to the floor, not even bothering to fully remove them. his boxers follow as he lifts up my dress, separating my legs apart and moving in between them, eyes lustfully staring into my own.
“you gonna be quiet, yeah?” he whispers, forehead against mine as i quickly nod my head, feet hooking around his hips in an attempt to bring him inside me faster. he strokes himself a few times, positioning himself at my entrance.
his lips collide with mine as he slowly slides inwards, muffling the low noises that spill from them, instead silencing my small whines with his tongue, slipping it into my mouth whilst his cock slides further into me. about halfway in, he stops, sensing the way my eyebrows furrow in discomfort, unable to accustom to his size so quickly, the lack of time we have leaving me a little unprepared.
“c’mon baby, take it. you can take it. just like that, doing so good.” he praises, grabbing my hips, angling them slightly differently, the change in position allowing him to push into me inch by inch, my walls clenching around him.
“fuck- you’re so tight, always so good for me.” he mutters, face burying itself into the crook of my neck, planting slow and soft kisses there, his hips beginning to rock back and forth once he senses that i am comfortable, the pain finally subsiding. his kisses become firmer, teeth occasionally nibbling downwards on the skin, leaving purple-ish marks in place of his lips, though i am too dazed to care, focusing on the way he dick slips in and out of me, tip prodding against my g-spot.
he pulls his head out of my shoulder, his hands removing their firm grip on my hips as he rests his forehead against mine, hands coming to either side of my face. his eyes burn into mine, though he sees a lot more clearly - my own rolling to the back of my head every few seconds, clenching around him when the pleasure becomes a little too much. though from the brief moments my eyes stay open and i am able to study his face, the sight is almost enough to make me cum on the spot.
his eyes are half-lidded, consumed by the hazy need for pleasure, eyebrows furrowed as a few wrinkles form on his forehead when they knit together. his lips are slightly parted, falling open further when his dick would hit a certain spot inside of me, small yet almost audible grunts sounding from the back of his throat.
a loud moan emits from my lips unexpectedly, tom hurrying to press his lips to mine, slightly covering up the sound. he pulls back soon after, his hands returning to my hips, using them to maintain the steady thrusts that i can tell are becoming harder for him to continue, the way his dick twitches inside of me letting me know that he is almost there.
“shhhh.” he coos, admiring the way my face twists in pleasure, knowing that he is completely responsible, nobody else able to have this effect on me. “almost there baby, so close.”
i nod weakly in response, attempting to meet his thrusts, grinding myself against him half-heartedly, this clearly having some effect on him as he throws his head back, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to prevent any sounds from spilling out.
“shit, yeah. like that baby, keep going.” his voice is shaky, on the verge of letting out a moan, i can tell from the way he swallows harshly, hips faltering momentarily. i comply with his words, continuing to move my own hips at the same speed of his, pushing us both to our climax, though tom continues to do most of the work, his pointer finger reaching downwards to rub my clit in soft, slow circles.
“c’mon schatz, can’t hold it anymore. cum with me, mhm?” he groans, lips inches away from the crook of my neck, his teeth sinking into it harshly to prevent the loud groan that begins to sound throughout the bathroom as i feel him shoot his cum into me.
his thrusts remain slow and deep, fucking his cum into me as i reach my climax, eyes rolling to the back of my head, lips squeezing shut. he places one hand firmly over my mouth, hushing the restricted moan that sounds from it, his hips eventually slowing to a smooth stop.
he pulls out of me as i hiss at the loss of contact, a small ‘sorry’ spilling from his lips. my body falls forward, totally exhausted, chest heaving up and down as he pulls his jeans back up, wrapping his belt through the loops, bringing his lips to mine quickly.
“you okay?” he checks, running a gentle hand across my cheek, smiling gently once i nod my head. he bends down, sliding my panties back up and over my hips, pulling my dress downwards so that it covers my thighs.
sensing that i am still slightly weak, he picks me up, helping me down from the countertop, my legs buckling a little. it doesn’t take long for me to come to my senses, wondering how tom and i were going to return to the table. we couldn’t go back together without looking totally suspicious, my mind racing to find ways to avoid the utter humiliation that would come if my parents found out what had just happened.
“how the fuck are we gonna go back?” i sigh, running my hands through my hair, visibly stressed out. “how did you manage to leave, what did you say to them?”
he shrugs, hands loosely resting on my hips, evidently nowhere near as concerned as i am “just said i needed to use the bathroom.”
“okay…” i trail off, playing with the material of his jacket as i think, certain that if we are absent for much longer, my parents will begin to grow suspicious regardless of if we return together or not. “i’ll go first. wait a couple minutes then come back, okay?”
he smiles at my serious tone, stifling a laugh as i tilt my head, looking at him in annoyance.
“okay, okay. i got it, a couple minutes.” he laughs, placing a soft kiss on my lips, letting go of my hips once i nod my head, turning away from him to quickly check my appearance, surprised that i only have to smooth my hair, fingers threading through a few small knots.
“act casual. and get that stupid smirk off your face, i can’t believe you convinced me to do this.” i sigh, wiping the lipstick that had smudged onto my face, eyeing tom’s expression as all he can do is keep that same smug smile upon it, clearly not regretting any of it. my hand reaches for the door handle, about to tug it open, not before tom pulls me back, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“don’t be mad at me. i love you.” he pouts, pecking my lips a few times, his eyes soft as they look into mine, attempting to win me over, with some success much to his surprise. i shake my head, smiling warmly at him, mumbling a small ‘love you too’, before heading out of the door, making sure not to close it behind me, reminding myself that my parents think i have been outside.
i enter the dining room, my mom’s face lighting up once she sees me. “you feeling any better?” she asks, beckoning me back over to the table as i take my seat.
“much better. where’s tom?” i ask innocently, furrowing my eyebrows in forged confusion, determined to keep our acts a secret, acting as if he wasn’t inside me literally two minutes ago.
“he said he needed to use the bathroom. he should be back soon.” my mom replies, sipping from her glass afterwards, a wave of relief spreading over me as i realise that she is completely oblivious, as is my father, who finishes the food on his place absent-mindedly.
“a nice boy you’ve got yourself honey.” my mother says out of the blue, a genuine smile on her face. my eyebrows raise in surprise, her sudden approval unexpected, but the way my father nods his head in agreement throws me off completely; slightly suspicious of how fast they have warmed up to him, knowing my parents to be extremely standoffish.
“really?” my voice is uncertain, a small laugh leaving my mom’s lips at this.
“why so shocked?” she says, my eyes drifting towards the entrance to the dining room, seeing tom walk through it. he shoots me a quick wink, moving past me as my mother spots him, her face lighting up.
“tom! we were just talking about you!” she smiles, watching as he takes his seat, an intrigued look on his face as he ushers her to continue, giving my thigh a quick squeeze from under the table.
“i was just saying how much you suit her.” my mom begins, shooting me a quick grin, turning her attention back to tom. “i’m so happy she’s found someone like you tom. so polite and put together, i admire it, really. very unusual for boys your age. i’ve never met anyone as mature.”
i stifle a laugh at her words, looking downwards into my lap, finding her obliviousness amusing, wondering how she would react if she ever found out what had just happened, using such positive words to describe him, completely unaware of the fact that minutes ago, he had been the complete opposite of all of them. my eyes shoot upwards in his direction, seeing his lips curved into a smile, soaking in all of the positive attention, using it to fuel his ego, clearly proud of how he has managed to pull this whole thing off, winning over my parents in the process an added bonus.
༻❦༺
“thank you so much for having me. it was great to meet you.” tom repeats, smiling widely as we say our final goodbyes, my parents waving us off as they close the door, tom and i walking down the driveway, hand in hand.
“i can’t believe you won them over so easily. that’s literally never happened before. every time my sisters have brought a boyfriend over, they literally hated him. one time my dad made my sister break up with a guy, in front of everyone.” i laugh, never witnessing my parents be so fond of a guy before, not expecting them to welcome someone like tom with open arms, usually approving of boys who were nothing like him.
“told you i’d surprise you.” he grins, that infamous smug smirk tugging on his lips once again, his hand squeezing mine as he looks downwards at me. i can tell that he will be smug about this for a while, this night being something he will bring up for the rest of our relationship, soaking up his own pride. he pauses, tongue swiping across his bottom lip as he opens the car door, climbing into it as i follow. “and, i love your parents house…
especially the bathroom.”
requests are open! keep sending them in!!
#tom kaulitz#kaulitz#kaulitz twins#tokiohotel#tom kaulitz x reader#tom kaulitz smut#tomkaulitz#tom kaulitz angst#bill kaulitz#tom kaulitz fluff
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Luffy and Zoro throughout One Piece (season 1)
Although I've written an entire essay on Luffy and Zoro and their relationship in the manga, I think that their live action versions (and the plot surrounding them) are different enough to make it worthwhile to analyze them separately. So here goes...
Luffy gets introduced to us as someone who is enthusiastic and full of stubborn determination to reach his goal, i.e. to become the King of the Pirates. Zoro gets introduced with a similar determination except that he goes about his goal in a more aimless way. The show never explicitly states why Zoro is spending his time hunting pirates, yet it becomes evident early on that being a pirate hunter is something he does to pass the time or to earn money rather than something he intends to do for the rest of his life. Zoro, the pirate hunter, was in a state of stasis. He wasn’t challenging himself, not moving forward or any closer to reaching his goal of becoming the world’s greatest swordsman. Meeting Luffy is what makes him reflect on that and it’s also part of what makes him initially stay with Luffy. Also, both Zoro and Luffy are straightforward and share the same sense of justice. In fact, there are probably only two things Luffy was looking for in a first mate and that’s firstly, someone who he considers to be a good guy and secondly, someone who is strong. Zoro gets established to be both when Luffy first encounters him.
An interesting change on the show is that we get to see Zoro being recruited by two different organizations. First Baroque Works and then the Marines. However when Zoro refuses their offers, he gets punished for doing so. Those offers serve as a stark contrast to Luffy asking him to join his crew. Luffy doesn't try to force Zoro to follow him nor does he punish him for not agreeing to join his crew. So when Zoro does help and follow Luffy, it is entirely of his own volition. And their teamwork when they fight against Axe-Hand Morgan is just as effortless and badass as it is in the manga. Luffy was definitely right when he said they’d make a good team.
In the first three episodes, Zoro keeps saying he is not a part of Luffy's crew whenever Luffy refers to them (including Nami) as such but he also makes it evident in episode 2 already that he is devoted to following Luffy. And that’s not even subtext but something Zoro clearly states when talking to Cabaji. He not only believes in Luffy but he is also starting to believe that next to Luffy, as part of his crew, is where he belongs. To quote Mackenyu: “Meeting Luffy is the biggest thing to ever happen to Zoro… though, of course, he’d never say that out loud”. Right after they defeat Buggy and leave the island, there’s also that adorable blink-and-you-miss-it moment where Zoro actually turns back and waits for Luffy which is just such... quality first mate behavior.
The first mate behavior slowly but surely gets better from here. Because naturally, the more time Zoro spends with Luffy, the more he gets to see what kind of a person Luffy is. He sees Luffy’s determination and possibly his own reflected in it. He sees his compassion and loyalty and how he’d stop at nothing to protect his crew and realizes that Luffy is someone worth following. And Zoro returns Luffy’s loyalty with his own, so to say. However he still keeps an emotional distance. Or to put it differently, he doesn’t fully commit to following Luffy. And the only reason I can think of as to what’s holding Zoro back is the importance of Zoro’s own dream. He may not want to follow Luffy if doing so gets in the way of his goal. That concern is gone after Luffy decidedly does not stop Zoro from fighting Mihawk. And it’s also why Zoro chooses the moment he wakes up after the fight as the one to vow his undying loyalty to Luffy.
This moment is important for Zoro cuz it is the start of his wholehearted commitment to Luffy and the first time he is “emotional” with him. The emotional distance that was there before — and that prevented Zoro from having an actual conversation with Luffy after he revealed Garp is his grandpa — is no longer here. But this moment is also incredibly significant to Luffy so let me dial back just a bit. Luffy is willing to die for his dream and Zoro has the same attitude. Luffy also said that he “doesn’t do regret”. And yet... he seems to be unwilling to admit it but what else does Luffy feel besides regret and fear when he nearly has a panic attack after Zoro lost to Mihawk. Or when he refuses to eat in order to clean Zoro’s swords. Or when he fails to find the right words to say to an unconscious Zoro. Add to that Nami leaving and Luffy getting bested by Arlong and you have a Luffy who, for the first time, seems to have doubts. In himself and in the path he’s chosen. But those doubts get assuaged by this same moment, thanks to his first mate. In the manga, Zoro is often the only one who understands Luffy and who is his pillar of strength in the rare cases that Luffy needs one. Luffy is always there for everyone when they need him but who is there for Luffy when he needs someone? Well, it’s usually Zoro. And we get another example of that in the following episode.
Not only is this scene meaningful cuz Zoro is there for Luffy when Luffy needs him but it also goes to show the deference and trust that Zoro has for Luffy. Even when Luffy does something Zoro may not agree with, he never tries to undermine his position as the captain in any way. (Zoro has in fact zero tolerance when it comes to anyone disrespecting his captain.) He always follows his lead. Or rather, he always follows his lead in the manga but in this scene on the show, it basically explains why Zoro trusts Luffy’s intuition in the first place.
The respect, admiration, understanding and growing love that Zoro and Luffy have for each other was both wonderfully written and could not have been better portrayed. I’m quite grateful. There are differences to the manga of course but personally, I have no issue liking both versions and I look forward to seeing how having changed the story so far will possibly “change” Luffy and Zoro’s dynamic within the rest of the show~
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JK's birthday 2019
Let's talk about JK's birthday in 2019.
I know it's a long time ago, but I got to thinking about it again and it just filled me with joy. And who am I to deprive you guys of some delusional joy as well? Right?
So, I think I am actually going to start from the end on this one.
JM flying half way across the world, from Paris...
to be with JK on his birthday only to have to fly out the next morning to Hawaii with Sungwoon.
And he does this all by surprising JK, who was not expecting him to be there with him, as he knew JM was in Paris, sly JM even sending him a kind of generic happy birthday message from Paris. You know, making sure JK KNOWS that he is still there on the streets of Paris all while JM was already on his way to be with him.
JM loved to tell us all about it in his Riad live (you know, the one he also told us how happy he was with the surprise birthday celebration JK arranged for him during their concert there, oh and the same one we got him eying his "manager").
There is a link to the live itself in my post as well.
And here you will find screenshots of JM telling the story:
He was so damn proud of himself.
And rightfully so.
He made JK's day.
Brought him this very special gift too:
Yeah, let's hear how this wasn't planned why don't we?
Anyways...
Moving on.
Or perhaps moving back would be the proper way of putting it.
All of this happened on JK's birthday itself at night time (JM tells us he arrived back in SK 8-9 pm). But see, JK started off his birthday for us.
Wait. Was it for us? Or more so, was it only for us? Or was it perhaps also meant for that one person that wasn't there on that day. The one person that was in Paris, and whom JK believed was not going to be spending his birthday with him. The one person that flew half way across the world to surprise JK, and he sure did.
I know at this point I could be considered to be reaching a little bit, but hear me out here. Yes, JK was sending Army a message (well a few of them as you will see), but I do think that within those messages (this is something that those two are so good at), he was also sending another message, and it wasn't just for us. Although you could argue that in a sense it was also for us (letting us know who was on his mind at that point in time).
So here we go.
JK posts on Weverse on the eve of his birthday. This is just after midnight, specifically at 00:22 or 12:22 am KST.
This one is clearly for Army (not the one who declares himself to be Army).
Following that, JK moves on to Twitter, where he tweets twice exactly 40 minutes later. 2 tweets, one minute apart from each other.
First tweet at 1:03 am SKT:
Let's look at the numbers first before we move on to bigger and better things.
1:03 am 1.9
Just looking at those numbers we can get:
13-10 (1+9)
If we look at the date as 1.9.19 then we have the 13-10 and 1-9 as well. Go figure.
On purpose?
Who knows... maybe if we look into it a little further we will have more facts that can show us either way.
The caption on JK's first tweet.
Could definitley be meant, once again, for us. Even though he already thanks us for making him happy. But what if this time it wasn't meant specifically for us. I mean, he already thanked us in a long message only 40 minutes earlier. What if the earlier one was for us, and this one here, with the timing of the posting, was meant for a special someone else, who happened to be far away from him.
Perhaps his choice to split his posts, his thanks, was because they were meant for 2 different recipients? Perhaps, this was just like him splitting up his White day live in 2023 into 4 segments. Each one of those segments with a clear purpose and you could also say a specific audience (at least for one of those 4 the intended audience was not us).
Yeah, I know, call me deluded. Call me crazy and call me whatever, but you know, I really don't think it's that far fetched.
And even more so when within a minute he tweets again. This time he uploads his gift - a snippet of his song Decalcomania.
Captioned: "This... Please look forward to it".
{Side note, we still are even though we will never get the full song seeing that he had deleted it.}
Are you seeing what I'm seeing here?
Like seriously, how can we miss this? And nope, you can't make up this shit either.
Time stamp on clip:
1: 18 min.
The song is clearly cut off at that time stamp.
This is not a coincidence. Seriously, enough is enough with that excuse. The recurring use of these numbers. 118, Nov 8, again and again and again. Before and after.
This is a clear message JK is sending again
and again
and again
and again
And lest forget a couple of his latest 8:11's
and
And here we have JK, on his birthday, following his tweet only one minute earlier thanking "you" for making him happy. Who he means by "you", well that I'm sure many will assume is his fans. At this point, seeing what came before and definitely what came after, I am easily convinced that it wasn't necessarily that "you", but the "you" that was about to surprise the shit out of him later that day.
So yeah, I'm finding it hard to conclude this is all a coincidence, seeing JM himself told us it's not...
As for Decalcomania. Well, that one requires a post all of it's own.
One more thing before I go.
JK's 2019 birthday was a big one. It happened when the band were on break. When JM was using this time to travel with friends (not that they didn't spend time together, JK basically tells us that in BV4). A time with a couple of yucky dating rumors. A time of self reflection. This was a break where JK had his hand tattoos done, and surprisingly (NOT) added that very 'inconspicuous' J just above the M after his birthday.
So yeah, this here my friends, is a hill, or even more so a mountain, that I am climbing up and are pretty confidently willing to die on...
#Jikook#Kookmin#Minkook#Jungkook#Jimin#JK#JM#JK birthday#JK birthday 2019#jikook numbers#jikook 8:11#Jikook 11:8#Jikook 8 November
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Well like many, the Loki S2 finale has me still reeling and I have had this little drabble on my brain and had to get it out. I am not really a writer, I've not written a fic since I was a teenager probably lol so be easy on me but alas, I hope this is enjoyed by those who also just couldn't bear the thought of Loki being alone at the end of time forever.
Description: Loki uses his time slipping abilities to talk to you one last time before making the decision he knows he has to in order to save those he loves. But, you aren't so willing to let him condemn himself to an eternity alone, or yourself to a lifetime without him.
Word Count: 1367
Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVENT SEEN LOKI S2 EP6!! Angst, sadness, happy ending mostly
••••••••••••••
"How are you doing this?", you asked as you watched strands of space and time float around you and Loki throughout A.D Doug's workshop.
"We're outside of time. Darling, I had to see you. I had to speak to you." Loki said, a sorrowful look on his face that you had never seen before. "The Loom, it was a failsafe all along. And no amount of scaling can account for infinite timelines. I thought we had it, I really did", he explained.
"Damnit, we should have known it would be...", you lamented.
"I spent centuries trying to figure it out, and it was all for nothing."
"Centuries?" you questioned.
"It's hard to explain" he responded. "Darling, there are only two options. Go back and kill Sylvie before she kills He Who Remains and allow the Sacred Timeline to continue--"
You cut him off. "You can't Loki! The Sacred Timeline is full of misery, injustice, and sadness - what the TVA stood for under He Who Remains was all wrong! We can't go back to that. And you know you could never kill Sylvie...not after everything we have all been through together."
"I know...", he said, a sad knowing in his voice and his eyes. "But there is one other way."
"And what's that?"
"Me".
"What? You? I don't understand Loki..." you said cautiously.
"The finite power of a machine can never handle the infinite timelines of a multiverse, but the infinite power of a God can", he said as he watched your face intently for any hint of reaction.
It took a moment as you stared at him, blinking. "Do you mean..." you questioned, as the realization of what he was saying started to set in.
"Yes, my love. Believe me, if there was any other way, I swear I would take it. But there isn't. I know what kind of God I need to be, for you, for all of us. It's the only way."
"Loki, if this is what you have to do, then please, take me with you at least!" you implored.
"My darling y/n, you know I can not do that. I must bear this burden alone, and you must go live your life on the timeline, the one you deserve to have. I could never condemn you to an eternity of solitude at the End of Time", he said sorrowfully.
"But you'll condemn me to a life of solitude on Earth? Loki, I can't live without you. There's no life for me down there if it's not with you! Please, as long as our friends are happy, and I'm with you, that's all I'll need. Please let me go with you!". The last part came out as a sob as your emotions got the best of you. You couldn't believe what he was talking about doing, the sacrifice he planned to make for the ones he loved.
"When I go back there, to that moment in time, you won't remember any of this. You won't know you said you wanted to go with me," he reminded you.
"Loki, every version of me across space and time would go with you. Even into the abyss, if that's where you have to go. I will follow you, I know I will!" you fully sobbed out as you threw your arms around him. The thought of him leaving you was killing you.
"They'll stop you if you try to follow me, you know that" he said, speaking of your friends back at the TVA.
"Then tell them not to Loki! Please, I'm begging. My place is beside you, always and forever, no matter where that place is."
And then Loki was gone and everything turned to spaghetti.
••••••••••••••
Loki slipped effortlessly back to just the right moment in the Loom control room, having been here in this moment over and over for centuries. This time though, it was different. This time, it was the last time. Loki looked over at you and his friends with a sad and knowing smile on his face. And then with one last look, he turned and ran down the stairs towards the blast doors. He knew he could keep you from following, lock the doors behind him with impenetrable magic. But he also knew that in your heart, you would never want to be without him. You would resent him forever if he left you on Earth alone.
You, Sylvie, and Mobius ran down the stairs after him immediately, but he was already through the airlock doors. The three of you watched Loki open the blast doors with his magic and start to step outside, absent of any protective suit. As you reached out to open the airlock door and go after him, Mobius pulled you back.
"Mobius, I have to go! I have to get to him!!!" you screamed.
"You can't! The temporal radiation will kill you if you open that door and go out there, you know that!"
"But it's going to kill HIM!" you cried out as you watched Loki walk out onto the walkway.
But something amazing started to happen. As the temporal energy shredded his TVA clothes away with every passing second, something else began to take it's place. Flowing dark green linen draped his form, traditional and humble shoes appeared on his feet, and a horned crown adorned his head. He looked absolutely Godlike and regal. As Loki walked closer to the Loom - this imperfect piece of machinery that took so much from so many - he lifted his hands, called upon his magic, and destroyed it in a flash of bright green and white light.
Then, there was darkness. Loki wasn't done, though. He reached out to grab a strand of time and suddenly it glowed back to life, his beautiful green magic allowing it to thrive. He grabbed another, and another. You, Mobius, and Sylvie stood silently in the airlock, watching as Loki brought the timelines back to life, one by one, gathering them in his hands. Above him, a chasm opened in the sky, revealing the End of Time. Loki looked back one last time at the 3 of you back in the airlock. He had no idea if you would really come after him like you said - but he wanted to see your face one last time if it was truly to be the last. Your eyes locked, and you knew now that the temporal energy was gone, there was no threat if you left the airlock.
"I have to go with him." you said to Mobius and Sylvie. "His worst fear is to be alone, and he is going to condemn himself to a lifetime of loneliness to save us all!" you said as you opened the door.
"Y/n, please! Stop! You don't know what you're giving yourself to." This time, it was Sylvie who pulled you back, holding your arm so you couldn't run down the walkway.
"Yes, I do. I'm giving myself to love. I'm giving myself to free will, to choice, to hope." you said.
"Sylvie, let her go," Loki called out. "It's going to be okay." he assured.
Sylvie let go of you hesitantly, and you started your walk out to Loki. When you reached him, he could not take your hand, but you took his arm. Together, you began to ascend the invisible stairs to the End of Time as he held the reanimated timelines in his hands. As you both crossed the threshold of the chasm to the End of Time, He Who Remains' throne and the ruins of his citadel came into view. Loki walked forward to the throne, the one he never wanted but was always destined to have. The timelines took on the beautiful form of a tree - Yggdrasil, the tree of life - the tree of the multiverse that Loki would tend to for eternity.
"This is where I'll have to stay forever, darling. I can never leave, never move. Tending to the timelines is my glorious purpose, my eternal burden. Are you truly willing to stay here with me?" he inquired.
"Yes, my love", you answered without hesitation.
"For all time?" He asked.
"Always".
#loki x reader#tva!loki x reader#loki x you#loki#marvel#mcu#god!loki x reader#drabble#loki drabble#loki imagine#loki season 2#loki s2 rewrite#not canon#loki series#mcu loki
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So because I'm not normal about them I kind of wanted to look at a specific page of this comic:
Buckle up this is gonna get long
I think it's very interesting that Till isn't in his own art piece, to start with, but also how this scene is portrayed. Throughout the 4nakt Garden pages you see a different side to Till. The side where you get an idea about how serious music is to him and how deeply he loves it (maybe even because it's one of the last connections to his mom that he has). You see how deeply he loves to create in the way he draws. Almost as if he wants to leave pieces of himself behind, to show he was in this world and that he had lived.
In his biggest artwork, while he's not in it, the other 4nakt are a centerpiece of it. You have Mizi (she's a bit more detailed and so a bit more noticeable right off the bat) underneath the tree, wind blowing through her hair and it feels very free. Like she could do anything, be anyone, lead everyone around her.
Behind her is Sua at a slight distance which we've never seen before. Where Mizi is, Sua will always follow, but here she seems to hang back. She's not showing movement as if she means to follow like Ivan who's walking.
Now, Ivan is separate from the other two, but he's walking forward with what feels like intent to me. Who knows what he's up to or where he's going. We just know he's moving forward. But this is often how Till felt about Ivan anyway. Till has always said he doesn't understand Ivan; Has even called him annoying lol but it's the gap between the 3 that has me curious.
Maybe Till was wondering if that was where he should be. Maybe I'm delusional because he was consistent in his affection for Mizi (whether it be seeing her as his god or just having a boy crush) but I'm thinking about the way he hesitated in the meteor scene. I'm always thinking about the meteor scene it's my roman empire.
What if Till isn't in the piece because he doesn't know where to be. Is he moving forward with Ivan or staying behind with Sua to always be behind Mizi but not dare to be near her? What if this piece holds his slight confusion.
He hesitated before leaving Ivan behind in the meteor scene. Art portrays the emotions of the artist is what I've been told and Till is at his core very emotional. Till feels with his entire being. And that has always seeped into his work whether it be songs or sketches. Examples: drawing Mizi on his music sheets, drawing Ivan on the Cure lyrics after he died. A mixture of music and the things he's thinking or feeling in that moment.
Now, I'm sorry to be delusional it's my fatal flaw
But in the scene where we get to see the finished work it says that the 'product' was not left to be lonely and Mizi is clearly in front of him but he's not interacting with her; he's interacting with Ivan. This page that's putting emphasis on Till not being lonely does have the people he cares for in his art and Mizi does have a clear place in that, but physically he's hanging back with Ivan.
Everything is always a bit too late with those two but maybe Till had finally made a choice to walk forward with Ivan.
Anyway thanks for reading my delusional take on ivantill
#ivantill#alnst friday#alnst#alnst ivan#alnst till#just thoughts but like a lot of them#cause im not normal about them
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