#and he agreed it was wrong i did this much work

[destinedfordiapers]

No One Mourns The Wicked

This story is set in the Your Change of Plans universe. So read that first. Or don’t. Either way.

I’ll be honest. When Claire’s parents first told me they were sending her to the Little’s Program™️, I tried my best to stop them.

In my defense, Claire was beautiful and who wants to date a girl in diapers?

I mean, sure, she was stuck-up, shallow, and superficial. And yeah, she thought she was the Queen Bee wearing designer clothes and ruthlessly controlling our friend group.

She was a mean girl. Think Regina George. That kind of girl.

But now that I see her, stripped from her fancy, expensive clothes and attitude wearing that adorable diaper—I can’t help but agree it’s for the best.

“Awww, Clairebear! Don’t be shy!!! It’s just me!”

As you can see, Claire hid her face in her stuffies, too embarrassed to respond.

“Claire, honey,” her mom says, “Ryan came all this way to see you. We don’t ignore our guests, do we?”

A few weeks ago, Claire would’ve bit her mom’s head off for talking to her like that.

But now look at her.

Her mom turns to me, smiling. “She might need a few minutes to warm up to you. She’s still adjusting to her new life.”

Claire digs her face further into her stuffies, whimpering.

“It’s okay, I’m sure it’s a big transition for her. I mean, she did go from Prada to Pampers! Gucci to Gerber! Cartier to cribs! But she’s just so cute in that diaper!”

“Well she does have the best diapers on the market! Only the best for Claire,” her mom says, “Plus she’s been much better behaved since she got back. Sure, she still throws tantrums—all Littles do!—but now they’re about not wanting her poopy diaper changed instead of throwing a fit because we got her the wrong Hermes bag!”

“Now that is something I gotta see! Clairebear throwing a tantrum in a poopy diaper?! How cute is that?”

More whimpers from Claire.

“Well, you’re in luck! She’s past due for her afternoon boom boom. She usually goes during her nap but not today. Should be any minute!”

She pats Claire’s diaper playfully.

“It’s just so crazy,” I say astonished, “Claire poops her diapers now.”

“Yep, the Littles Center recommended the full package to fix her attitude after meeting Claire. Complete unpotty-training, inability to orgasm, and strict reliance on the Littles Center’s special baby formula. She can’t eat any adult food without getting an icky tummy!”

“Well, judging by the fact I haven’t heard Claire talk back at all, I’d say it’s working!”

“Like a charm! She did have a meltdown after we gave her fancy clothes to her cousins, but Littles don’t need fancy clothes, do they Claire?”

“M-maawmmmyyyyy,” Claire lisp’s adorably.

“Sorry, honey, but you need onesies and diapers! And I almost forgot, Claire also got the Babble Package™️, so she sounds just like a toddler! How cute is that?”

“I na a tawdwa!!” Claire shrieks.

It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.

“Of course you’re not,” I coo, “You’re our Clairebear!”

Claire’s mom smiles, “Well, why don’t I leave you two alone so you can catch up. Let me know if she makes a poopy!”

Claire moans again.

For the first time since her regression, I’m alone with Claire.

It’s strange, seeing her there in her diaper, completely docile. Nothing like the bossy, sexy woman she used to be.

I sit on the bed next to her, rubbing her shoulder. “Hey, Clairebear.”

She lifts her head from her stuffies. “H-hi Wyan.” Hearing herself she hides her head again.

Doing my best not to laugh, I push forward. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetie. Not with me. You know I love you. Even if things are different.”

Hearing the “I love you,” Claire immediately turns around. “P-pwomith?”

“Yes, Claire, I promise.”

For the first time since I got there, Claire smiled and sat up against her pillows.

“Is this your stuffy?”

“Mhm! It’s Wy-Wy Dog!” she says excitedly, showing me her stuffed dog.

“Awww, did you name him after me?”

“Yeah!” she says, blushing a bit.

“Well I think he’s the cutest little stuffy in the whole world!”

Her smile fades slightly. “Don wan stuffies, wan you!”

I sigh. I knew it would come to this eventually. I wasn’t lying, I did love her. But I can’t date a Little. I need a woman, not a pamper packer.

“Clairebear, I love you, I really do. But you’re…you’re a Little now. It’s not appropriate for you to be in an adult relationship anymore.”

“Buh, buh!” she starts, stomping her hands and feet, “Na fawr!!! I you guwlfwien!!!”

As I look into her eyes, I no longer see the sophisticated, sexy woman she used to be. Whatever she used to be, whatever fun we used to have, a distant memory.

“Sorry, little one. I need a woman—an adult—and you’re not that anymore. You’re not even potty trained, it’s just not meant to be. Maybe you’ll find a nice guy at daycare!”

I knew I went too far right away. The tantrum started right away.

“NOOOOO!” she shouted, kicking her feet more than ever! Na a baby! Na na na!”

The kicking of her feet caused an immediate reaction. Her screaming suddenly stopped as her eyes grew wide.

“What’s wrong, honey?” I ask before a grunt answers my question.

A loud, bubbly toot trumpets out of her diaper, leaving no ambiguity of what’s happening. Her eyes furrow in concentration at the task at hand.

Her diaper expands rapidly as she grunts. Her eyes still unfocused as she works to fill her diaper.

All I can do is watch as the woman I once revered poops her diaper in front of me, no different from an actual toddler.

Well, I guess she basically is a toddler now.

After a few bubbly toots, her grunting stops. Though the smell immediately attacks my nose, barely mitigated by the baby powder in her diaper.

“Did someone just make a poopoo?” I ask in a babyish voice. I couldn’t help myself. It was instinctual.

It’s just how you talk to pamper packers.

“No poopies!” she shrieks, legs kicking again. Her diaper swaying dangerously.

“Are you sure about that, little one?”

“I didn’! You did!” she squeals, trying to kick me.

“Excuse me, Claire? This is not how a Little should behave! You do not fib about your diaper and you definitely do not try to kick adults!”

“Don care! Na baby!!”

“If you keep acting like this you’re gonna learn what happens to misbehaving Littles. I’ll give you one more chance before you end up on my lap.”

I almost felt bad. The last thing I did was want to cause Claire to throw a tantrum. But here we are.

“You na my mawmy! You dum baby too!” she retorted, still trying to kick me.

“No, but I am,” her mom says walking in, “I could hear your tantrum all the way down the hall! Were you trying to kick Ryan?”

Claire’s eyes grew wide. “I-I-I b-but!!”

“We do not kick our babysitters, do you understand me?” her mom said in that deeply maternal voice you hear when you’re in trouble.

In a flash, Claire’s mom is sitting on the bed, pulling her kicking and screaming Little on her lap.

Claire’s diaper is already browning, bulging under the weight of its contents.

She turns to me and says over Claire’s whining, “I’m sorry, Ryan. I did warn you about her poopy diaper tantrums! I’ll take care of this one, are you still on to babysit her Friday night?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

“Great, you go on, I’ll see you then. I have to teach this little one some manners.”

As I walk out, I hear SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

I may have lost my girlfriend, but I can’t argue this isn’t for the best.

[dearru]

i miss you, come here ! | t.oikawa

-> pairing: ts!oikawa tooru x gn!reader | sfw | cw: headcanons, suggestive content under the cut, reader is in university, long distance, manga spoilers ig, bittersweet ending | mlist 

-> rq: boyfriend headcanons with oikawa tooru

boyfriend!oikawa who started dating you in high school. you were heartbroken when he told you he was going abroad post-graduation, but he assured you that long distance would work.

boyfriend!oikawa who has never failed to text you “good morning” and “goodnight” despite the time difference between you guys. the messages are also always accompanied by a selfie of him. he says it’s to prevent you from “ forgetting about his pretty face,”  but that’s nearly impossible to do considering images of him are plastered on every magazine you read and news channel you turn on. it’s nice to have pictures of him that are solely for you, though. 

boyfriend!oikawa who brags to everyone he meets in argentina about how lucky he is to have you as his partner. his teammates feel like they’re the ones dating you from how often he rambles about how much he loves you. he could drone on for hours about how smart you are for going to university, or how cute you are when you scrunch your nose at him. he’s obsessed with you and makes it everybody else’s problem. 

boyfriend!oikawa who gets offended when his PR team suggests marketing him as an available bachelor to increase his popularity. he reassures you that he’d never sacrifice the integrity of your guys’ relationship to get a little ahead in his career. he express-ships a big bouquet of flowers to your door as a way to apologize even though he did nothing wrong. (he calls it “proactive damage control”) 

boyfriend!oikawa who unfollows everybody except for you on his social media accounts to prove his devotion. this causes quite a stir and results in your classmates staring at you when you walk into your lectures. you’re known around campus as “oikawa tooru’s significant other,” but you and him agree that there are worse things to be known as. 

boyfriend!oikawa who notices how stressed you get from being a university student, so he surprises you with a round-trip business class ticket to argentina. he squeezes you so tight when he sees you for the first time that you think you may suffocate. as he holds you, you can feel the wetness of his tears against the back of your shirt, but you decide not to tease him about it. you missed him too.

boyfriend!oikawa who’s excited to show you the life he’s built for himself. he shows you his favorite beaches, introduces you to his teammates (who you apologize to in broken spanish about how annoying your boyfriend is), and takes you to the best restaurants in town. when you two go out for food, he orders for you in perfect spanish, and the dishes he recommends for you to try are always better than what you would’ve ordered for yourself. it reminds you how well he knows you.

boyfriend!oikawa who’s shocked when you admit one night during dinner that you’re afraid that he doesn’t need you anymore because of how well he’s assimilated to argentina without you. he takes your hand and fervently reassures you that despite moving here, you’ll always be his home.

boyfriend!oikawa who won’t let go of your hand the entire time you’re walking on the beach afterward. “people are staring, tooru.” “let them stare.”

boyfriend!oikawa who takes you to the airport when you eventually have to leave. he impulsively buys a ticket for the flight solely to wait with you at your gate for as long as possible. when it’s finally time to board, he watches with teary eyes as you walk away. it takes all his willpower not to get on the plane with you.

boyfriend!oikawa who loves you more than life itself and is counting the days until he can be with you again. 

extras ! (cw: suggestive :3)

boyfriend!oikawa who’s loved kissing you since the beginning of your relationship, but now that you’re long distance, there’s a little more desperation in his touch. during nights spent together, he makes a habit of littering you with kisses. his lips start at the top of your head, make their way down to your stomach, and if he’s feeling lucky he goes a little further.

boyfriend!oikawa who unwinds after practice by hand-feeding you food. it’s cute at first, but sometimes it goes overboard and makes you wonder what his true motivations are.  “try this one. this one too!” “tooru, you’re gonna make me choke” “im just getting you prepped!” “FOR WHAT.” 

boyfriend!oikawa who almost convinces you to extend your trip simply by how well he knows how to make you tick. when you kiss for the last time, his hand snakes down your waist and pulls you closer in a way that leaves you breathless. he laughs at your blissed-out expression and tells you, “you’ll have to visit your lonely boyfriend again to get another one of those.”  you roll your eyes and whisper in his ear to inquire about other things you’ll get when you visit him again, and he goes red in the face.

—a/n: me making oikawa content on this blog is the equivalent of walking into your kitchen and seeing a fish cooking pasta.

[abyssalzones]

apologies if i'm interpreting wrong, but do you not like the family aspects in gravity falls?

I enjoy the family aspects in gravity falls in terms of surface level enjoyment... but even then I do agree wholeheartedly with the post I reblogged and I think it's definitely applicable to a critical examination of the story, as it would be in Any story. mainly in terms of stan and ford's dynamic.

I've thought before about how stan's tumultuous relationship with ford really comes down to the failings of "the family" and particularly masculinity and the concept of The Family Man as a breadwinner and every time it frustrates me for what it is and intrigues me for what it potentially says as a deconstruction, even if an unintentional one. stan's core values are familial in nature, which to the audience is a purely noble goal. therefore, when stan does the things she (and I'm using she/her as always for stan because I interpret her as a trans woman) does, it's "all for this family", which is a very empathetic goal. but it's also one that snowballs into the devastating rift between her and ford: ford wanting to go to college and remove himself from The Family is implicitly depicted as a betrayal, if not to the audience then at least to stan. and yet it's perfectly understandable Why he does this if you actually examine the stan twins' childhood, which is that of two siblings being forced to compete in a black sheep/golden child dynamic in a poor household, overseen by the abusive patriarch figure that is their father. when ford refers to his dynamic with stan as "suffocating" (expecting dipper to relate), it's simultaneously insight we're meant to read as selfish and anti-family, as well as being perfectly logical. stan and ford depend on one another for survival and recognition as they deal with both the trappings of their home life and peer abuse at school- and, at the same time, are locked into their roles as "potential breadwinner" and "the fuck-up twin". would that not be suffocating? would you really feel secure trying to maintain a close relationship with your twin like that, even if you did love them?

I refer to this as a matter of masculinity because at its core the trappings of the (american, western, whatever you want to call it) family are often patriarchal in nature: everything revolves around the authority of The Father, who is succeeded by The Son. stan's lack of success in terms of bringing money to the family reflect her failures to perform as a man. the only time she begins to succeed in this role is when she's impersonating ford. (and here you can kind of see the foundations of my headcanon for her as a trans woman... but that's off topic) at the end of the day, ford's desires for agency outside of his family are punished by the story: "you care about some dumb mysteries more than your own family? well then-- you can have 'em." and this is only truly rectified when ford relents, admits the true importance of family, and gets on a boat with his twin. even if I think it's elaborated on in ways that lend itself towards a more complex story, even if I think it could work perfectly well as a deconstruction if you were to read it that way, I think this is the type of story they're trying to tell and the one that is most commonly related to by an american audience.

I say that this frustrates me because as much as I wish it were the case, I don't believe gravity falls intends to make a critical commentary on the nature of the family. I think it says a lot about how those dynamics can be strained or muddled by factors such as miscommunication, trauma, abuse, etc- but at the end of the day it's intending to be a very "familial love surpasses all" type of story. does that mean it's unwatchable garbage? not really. I obviously love the show and still enjoy familial dynamics for a lot of reasons and think there's good to come of those kinds of stories. however I also think there is a lot to be said about how dangerous the idea of "family comes first" is, both in terms of justifying violence and absolving or enabling abuse.

*note that my specifications of the structure as "american" or "western" are due purely to a lack of perspective. I'm sure there are examples of these types of trappings across various cultures I just can't confidently elaborate, and in the context of the show we're talking about a story that takes place with american characters. kind of a pointless amendment but just in case.

[reginaphalangelobster125]

Sweetheart

Steve Rogers x Reader feat. Avengers

Summary: A simple game slowly leads to a lifetime.

Warnings: a few swear words, some very hot scenes, fluffity fluff, mutual pining, mentions of nomad Steve specifically his hair and beard (yes! that's a warning), reader wearing Steve's hoodie (also a warning, gets me every time, and yes I did write a whole fic about it Hoodie)

Word Count: 3.5k

Notes: I wrote this with a female reader in mind but I think it works for any gender, there are no pronouns used and no use of Y/n, Steve calls reader sweetheart.

Everyone was drinking and having a good time. Tony remembered something he had seen earlier in the day and decided now was the best time to bring it up.

"Y-You know it's weird how fasc-cinated the public is with us" He slurred, waving his scotch around and spilling it slightly.

"How's that, Tones?" You questioned while blinking abnormally fast.

"I saw a-a thhhing on my phone, said vote on each 'venger's best look"

"Like Nat's 'I'm gonna kill you so bad' look?"

"No, ap-pearanceses"

"Ooooh, that's kinda strange, isn't it?"

"What?" Stephen asked as he flung his head up, only hearing the word 'strange'.

"Not you, Dr Otter" You and Tony replied at the same time followed by a small exclamation of acknowledgement.

"It's like a quiz" Tony continued.

"What?" Clint asked.

"The thing I was just talking about"

"Oh, right. A quiz?"

"Yeah, wanna do it?"

"I don't know, I'm not good on tests"

"It's not- It's opinions, not right or wrong"

"Okay, shoot"

Tony cast his phone to the large TV in front of everyone and started the quiz.

"What is the le-legendary genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, Tony Stark himself, 's best look?" He read off the screen.

"You always look pretty much the same" Nat stated.

"First one, little scruffy" Steve said simply.

"Yeah, his hair's cute when it's floppy, like you could run a hand through it and it'd still look adorable" You agreed.

"Adorable? Drunk you is pretty honest, this is gonna be fun" Tony smirked "Natasha Romanoff, the fierce woman of the avengers"

"Oh God" She sighed.

"The half red half blonde, super cute, especially in a braid" You smiled at her.

"I'd have to agree" Bruce added.

"Next, The God of Thunder and long hair, what's Thor's best look?"

"Ooh, the short one!" You exclaimed.

"How dare you?! That was not consensual!" Thor boomed.

"Sorry sweetie, but you've got to admit, it was hot"

"Pfft!" Loki laughed out.

"Did you just go pfft? You don't pfft" Bruce turned to him.

"My brother is not that hot"

"I think Happy's shirt would beg to differ" You counter.

"What about your mug?"

"I don't know what you are referring to"

"The mug that has 'This meeting would be a lot better if one of you were Loki' written across it"

"Oh, that mug. That and Happy's shirt were gag gifts from Tony, like Cap's Cap cap"

"Pardon?"

"Tony got Steve a cap with his Captain America logo on it, so it's Cap's Cap cap"

"You mortals are pointlessly confusing"

"Alright next question, speaking of Gods, Loki the God of Mischief and sexiness has great hair as everyone knows but what look suits him best?"

"I am beginning to like this quiz after all"

"Christmas tree" Nat states blankly.

"I am not beginning to like this. What do you mean Christmas tree?!"

"In New York, your hair had the outline of a Christmas tree. Don't look at me like that, they put tinsel in it" She points to you and Sam.

"ThAt WaS yOu?!"

"He dared me!"

"You said dare me to put tinsel in Loki's hair, I didn't do shit"

"Until I had the tinsel"

"Well it was already there"

"By the great heavenly kingdom of Valhalla I swear I will-"

"Tony, why don't we just move onto the next question?" Steve tried to diffuse the situation before Loki turned everyone into frogs, again.

"The question we've all been waiting for, the most gorgeous avenger, Bucky Barnes!"

"He's the most gorgeous?" Nat asked, a twinge of jealously in her tone.

"You're way prettier than Bucky" You reassured her.

"Hey?" Bucky lightly hit your arm.

"She is" You shrugged.

"Stevie, who's prettier?" Bucky looked to his friend.

"I don't want to choose between my friends"

"Come on, Captain"

"Uh, um.....neither"

"What?" They both blurted out in shock.

"You are" He said softly as he looked into your eyes.

"Th-thank you" You blushed.

"Of course he picked you" Bucky grumbled.

"And last but certainly not least, the very handsome face of the Avengers, Steve Rogers"

"Nomad Steve" You spoke a little too quickly.

"Really?" He asked you.

"Uh-yeah"

"Oh I toootally agree" Sam responded "That slightly long hair, a little unkept"

"And that beard" Bucky agreed.

"And the way he looks like he could just pin you up against a wall and-" You saw everyone looking at you and Steve's face covered in a bright red blush "I'm oversharring again, aren't I?"

"Yes" Bruce said, sitting in the corner, just a little mortified.

"I think that's enough for the night, I'm going to bed" You almost beckon from halfway down the hall already.

You thought that would be the end of the topic, after a while you didn't really think of it at all. Not long after, Steve had to go on a mission and boy did he have a surprise for you when he got back. The mission lasted about a month and you were really beginning to miss him. One evening you opened the door to your room and felt something behind you, someone. They pushed you into your room and slammed the door shut, they spun you around and you saw that it was Steve. You lit up instantly by just seeing his face, he had grown his beard back and his hair was a little messy and longer. Just as you were about to open your mouth to compliment him on the new-old look he pushed you against the wall, no, he pinned you against the wall. He held your wrists tight by your sides, you saw the look of desire in his dark clouded eyes. Before you knew it his lips were on yours, moving fiercely and hastily, full of passion and lust. As he pulled away he bit your bottom lip lightly, causing you to let out a soft whimper. The sound almost making him drop his tough exterior.

"This what you wanted?" His voice was deep and rough, making your body quiver.

"God yes" You breathed out shakily.

He transferred his grip on your wrists to your waist. He lifted you like you were nothing, like you weighed less than a feather. You wrapped your legs around his hips and grasped his neck in your hands, clinging on and keeping him close. He held you up against the wall as he continued kissing you roughly, deeply. You could feel your stomach aching, your whole body was aching, for him. He could feel the heat radiating off you as he trail open mouthed kisses down your jaw and it was addictive. You tilted your head back and to the side, giving him better access to your neck. He found that soft spot under your ear that made you moan so sweetly and his lips latched on. He sucked and bit marks that were sure to turn bright purple and he ran his tongue back over the spot gently, soothing your inflamed skin.

He kept up this pace, kissing and sucking and biting and licking all over your neck and upper chest. You tugged on his hair, rough enough that it made him bite your shoulder, hard. The sensation of his teeth sinking that far into you made you throw your head back even further and let out an almost primal, animalistic moan that just spurred him on all the more.

His fingers dug into your hips, certain to leave bruises you would admire for days. He pulled you off the wall and sat you on your dresser.

"Y-you know" You began, your words near breathy moans at this point "The bed's over there"

"Soon. First I want you on every surface possible"

His tone mixed with his words made your breath hitch, you could've sworn your heart stopped for just a moment. One of his hands came up and ripped your shirt off. He tossed it to the side and you toyed with the hem of his. You pulled it up slowly, running your fingers over the taught muscles of his body. You pulled the shirt over his head and when his hands returned to you they were on your thighs. His lips flew down your neck and to your chest. He kissed every inch of you within his reach, the feel of him all over you, hot and wet. He undid the top button of your pants and lifted you again. Your hands moved from his neck and discarded your pants on the floor. He carried you to the couch and laid you down. He hovered over you and you scrambled for his belt.

"Uh uh, not yet" The teasing in his tone made you squirm under him.

"Well that's not very fair is it?"

"Life's not fair sweetheart"

He continued his mission, his mouth was all over you. He moved down the couch, sitting between your legs. It was quite a sight, Steve Rogers, Captain America, America's golden boy, situated between your legs, looking up at you with the gaze of a starved animal. He took one of your legs, started at your ankle and kissed his way down. The contrast between your silky smooth skin and his rough scratchy beard made you grateful to be alive. He moved tantalisingly slow, never breaking eye contact for a second. It was like your eyes were tethered to stare at each other forever and you wouldn't have it any other way. You looked down past your heaving chest to see your knee slung over his shoulder. His chest was pressed up into the back of your thigh, pushing your muscles just right. His lips went so low, so close, so far down your inner thigh and he pulled away. The bastard pulled away. You never would have thought he'd be a tease. He did the same to your other leg, starting at the ankle and working his way almost all the way down. He laid down, his shoulders under both of your legs and he got so close. He kissed your lower stomach and he moved down. Finally, you thought. He kissed over the top of your underwear, taking the waist band in his teeth, pulling just a few inches away and releasing it, flicking against your body. He pulled even further away, devastating you.

"Steve" You whined "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Watch out or I'll have to put that dirty mouth of yours to good use"

"Please do"

He chuckled low, the sound reverberating through you and sending shivers down your spine. You kissed him again, this time soft and sweet, full of the love you had been hiding for so long.

He pulled away and stared down at you, at your beautiful face. He meant what he said that day, he thought you were beautiful, so beautiful it hurt. It hurt when he saw you get all dressed up for galas and charity events in those fancy clothes that fit your body so well. Or when you'd go out to clubs with Nat and Sam, those two always dragged you out, trying to get you to meet someone but you were never interested. For so long it had only been Steve. Wearing something outrageously short for the '40s like Steve was used to, but you looked amazing, you looked amazing in anything. He remembered the first time you trained together and you wore skin tight workout gear, he barely made it through the hour. But his favourite, his absolute favourite, was when you had just woken up. When your hair was all messy and your eyes were only half open. You'd say good morning in a raspy voice full of sleep and you'd smile at him so softly he thought he'd melt. All he wanted was to see that smile and hear that voice every morning for the rest of his life. One day was just, he didn't know quite what. It was an oddly chilly morning for that time of year and all of your winter clothes were packed away. You looked through the freshly washed laundry you had done the day before and you found a blue hoodie, it looked so comfortable and soft and most importantly warm. You pulled it on over your head and it fell halfway down your thighs, just covering the pyjama shorts you were wearing. You walked down the hall and into the kitchen like you did every morning. You greeted Steve and he greeted you back before noticing what you were wearing. It looked like you were wearing his hoodie, only his hoodie, nothing else. He blinked for a moment, opening and closing his mouth, trying to speak but not knowing what to say. You reached up to grab a mug off the top shelf and the hoodie rose up. He didn't want to look, no that was a lie, he thought he shouldn't look but he couldn't help himself. When he was met with the sight of your shorts you could say he was more than a little disappointed. You turned around and saw him staring at you.

"What?" You laughed "I can't have something in my teeth, I haven't eaten yet"

"I-is that my hoodie?"

"Oh, that's who. I'm sorry, it was in my laundry and I was cold. I can give it back"

"No you look nice. Nice and warm" He only just caught and corrected himself.

"Thanks"

He didn't know it yet but ever since that day, whenever you were feeling sad you wore his hoodie and it comforted you more than anything else.

He brought himself out of his memory haze and back to now, to you. He saw you looking up at him, wondering what he was thinking. He leaned down and whispered into your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"Sweetheart, you've been so good, it's time for your reward"

He picked you up and you latched onto him once again. This time he finally took you to the bed. He laid you down so soft and gentle like he was handling something so precious, he was. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and his finger trailed down your cheekbone. His hand moved back to cradle your head and his thumb caressed your cheek so lovingly. His usually innocent blue eyes stared into yours, boring into your soul. The two of you truly connected, in a way neither of you had with anyone else, only each other.

You woke up the next morning, in his arms. You couldn't believe you were finally where you had dreamed of being for so long. In fact you actually pinched yourself, just to be sure. You couldn't help but smile even brighter when you looked back up to see him looking down at you. This was one of those moments you'd experienced so many times before. It took you completely out of the moment and you noticed just how pretty he really was. His eyes, full of so much hope and joy matched with pain and sadness. His eyes, full of time, years of time and he wanted to spent the rest of it with you. He laid on his back, his chest rising and falling with his steady breaths. His right hand was snaked around your waist, even in his sleep his grip never faltered. You laid on your left side, your cheek on his chest, snuggled up to him. Your right hand was laying across his body, tracing random patterns slowly.

"Morning" There it was, there was that sweet, soft, raspy voice he had longed for.

"Morning sweetheart"

You giggled slightly at the pet name, your pet name. He called you that because to him, that's what you were. You were so sweet he thought he'd get a cavity. You always did whatever you could for others, sometimes they knew and sometimes they didn't. Like the way you helped Bucky. When he first came to the tower he only had Steve, Tony was still upset with him and after hearing what had just transpired the rest of the team weren't very welcoming. But you were different. You trusted Steve's judgement and you welcomed Bucky. He stayed in Steve's room for a while, still too scared to be alone in a tower full of people who didn't much care for him. You decided the best way to get to know Bucky and hopefully help him was to get to know him in a setting he felt comfortable in. You brought a sleeping bag to Steve's room and explained your thinking. Bucky was offered the bed and the couch but he still chose the floor, so you joined him. Steve was in his room with the door open and you and Bucky were in the small living room attached. He was by Steve's door and you kept you distance, trying not to crowd him by sleeping on the other side of the room. He curled up and faced away from you. You heard him gasp for air as he came out of a nightmare. You slowly approached him and took his flesh hand in both of yours. You were gentle but your grasp was firm, reassuring him that he wasn't in his nightmare. Steve got up and came to the door but you shook your head and he stepped back. He trusted you too and he knew that you had a lot of experience with nightmares, you helped him after all. You slept with Bucky on Steve's floor for a month, until Bucky was ready to go to his own room. You slept on his floor for the first night, then you returned to your own room, next door. Sharing a wall, you were able to hear when he had a nightmare and you always came and sat with him like you did that first night. Thankfully, after some time, the nightmares were a rare occasion for him.

Steve loved how you cared for his friend, for everyone. He was the only one who noticed the small things you did. One of the simplest but kindest being whenever you would go to the grocery store you would buy a box of pop-tarts, a dozen plums, a bag of decaf coffee and a punnet of blueberries. Pop-tarts for Thor because he ate them at an alarming rate, plums for Bucky of course, decaf coffee because it always worried you how much coffee Tony drank, so you would replace it with decaf whenever you had the chance, and blueberries also for Tony, he liked having a snack while he worked and they distracted from the coffee.

There were other little things you'd do that just made Steve fall for you even more. If someone had a tough mission you'd cook their favourite meal for dinner, perfectly, and if their suit was torn you'd sew it up. They didn't ask you to or expect you to but you'd just take it and return it to them, fully mended and cleaned. Whenever you noticed his pencils were getting short or his sketchbook was getting full you'd go to the little store that had the supplies he liked. You wouldn't make a fuss about it, you usually just left a book and a box of pencils on his bedside table. And God, did he love to draw you. The first time he tried he obsessed over it, wanting the sketch to be as perfect as you. After a while it became almost mindless, if he didn't know what to draw he'd find himself drawing you.

He looked down at you now, lying in his arms with a huge smile on your face.

"I love you" It just slipped out, he meant it, he did love you but he didn't want to scare you off. He panicked for a moment when you didn't respond.

"I love you too"

He sighed a huge breath of relief "You know you're everything to me, right?"

"I do now"

You brought your hand up to his cheek, you thumb ghosted over his lips.

"You call me sweetheart"

"I do"

"Why?"

"Because you're so kind and giving, you always put the team first and you're well, sweet. Like with the pop-tarts and plums"

"You're the reason"

"What do you mean?"

"I saw your face when I got you a sketchbook or when I got Bucky plums, you know, small things. I saw the way you looked at me or at least the way I hoped you looked at me and I wanted to see that look again"

"Really?"

"Why else do you think we have plum pies every other week? Or enough Pop-tarts to feed an army, or I guess Thor for a couple weeks"

"You did that just to see me happy when I was watching you?"

"Yeah" You said nervously, hoping he wouldn't think you were quite as pathetic as you felt.

"God, I love you"

He pulled you into a kiss and you could feel his smile against your lips.

Tags:

@impetusofadream @goldfishthegr8 @avengers-official-recruit-agent @goreygirl03 @xenasolos @sparklyturtlefox @rios-sythe @nekoannie-chan @ilovemarvel12 @hayneyney @n3ponen @8812-342 @everyonesfriend @pinkthick @craftytacopiecash @meryuniverse @aliljaybird @yelldontwhisper @justhereforthememesnangst @lonely-core

[sakura-hitomi]

Well I for one don't give a fuck about what regular people should do. Ever thought of that? I bet you didn't. Because it shows.

You did give in. Subtly hiding your dislike, then become defensive, until you GAVE IN and just admitted your pure hatred in a long ass rant full of excuses.

You have met the wrong person then if you think I would just take your opinion like I was your bitch or something. It's not about any fictional character you shit on. It's Snape, a guy hated for all wrong reasons.

Also, what the actual fuck are you on about? "you nor Max have use for my opinion and I don't have use of yours" when you in fact placed your shitty opinion below my comment. I agreed with max, what did you do? Oh right, walk over Snape. So take your -you have your opinion, I have mine, let's part ways- and say that to your own reflection. Because you BEGAN.

If it's about Snape? You bet I'm aiming to win any fight. Worked then, works now, only a loser would say that "you don't have to win everything or keep on fighting". And the part where you said "it's very stupid" is hilarious 🤣. You Started, you began, you instigated, I don't know how else I can state it.

If you start something, don't expect people to be on your level. And you say you will be straight up aggressive next time. How about you simply ignore a pro Snape thing. Ever thought about that? Especially when you hate him with every fobre of your being with all but excuses.

Seems like the most reasonable thing, but I bet that's a bit far fetched for you no? Just because it's on your page doesn't mean you have to react. Can't you read tags? pro-Snape tag specifically? And no, you don't have to bring out a ukelele.

Bet that's godawful too, but you know. I might be biased. So no, he isn't weird, he's not a child bully, he's a bad ass teacher that at least kept his students alive unlike a few major other teachers.

You want adult conversation when your first sentence has "weird ass" in it.... doesn't scream maturity at all does it? But you know. I might be biased. So do yourself a favor, and actually reflect on yourself before you play the blame game and paint yourself as a clown.

Also, you better get used to "gave in" because you did. No need to beat around the bush. You literally went from:

- subtly hinting dislike to Snape.

- Then saying it's just an opinion

- degrading his work as a double agent

- labeling him as an adult child-bully but say your opinion MIGHT be biased

- then admit how much you hate him (with excuses of course) when you're cornered.

What is that then if not giving in? Gave in means: surrender or submit.

You surrendered your subtle Snape hatred by revealing that you have all those excuses because you truly loathe him.

So you know, also do your homework on researching definition of words.

"James Potter is a hero because he tried to protect his family from Voldemort."

Isn’t that literally what any father and husband would do for his wife and child? Why do you have to elevate acts of basic decency to the level of heroism? What kind of shitty parents did you have?

[jschlattgirly]

I'll Be Here (Part 2)

Parts: One, Two (This One),

Content Warning: Emetophobia, Blood, Hosptials, talk of disease and illness.

Word Count: 1,719

Description: The pain continues mysteriously, and you and Schlatt end up back at the hospital, only this time, things don't look so good for you.

WARNING: There will be a description of puking in this chapter, not in vivid detail but it is mentioned.

Schlatt sat quietly working in his home office, checking to make sure his upload schedule was on track and double-checking videos that his team was editing through his multiple channels. You were still in quite of bit of pain since leaving the Emergency Room the day before and were kind of just waddling around the apartment cloaked in a blanket while Jambo and [REDACTED] followed you around. You slipped into Schlatt's office quietly, the slight sound making him glance over his shoulder at your mildly disheveled appearance. 

"Hey, Hun" He spoke quietly, stretching his spine a bit and turning fully towards you, "How are you feeling?"

"Not good," you mumbled, shuffling to him and cuddling into his side the best you could without climbing into his lap. 

"Did you take some pain meds?" He asked softly into your shoulder as he held you.

You nodded before speaking, "Yeah, but it's not helping" 

Schlatt hummed quietly before replying, "Well, maybe take the high-strength ones and see how you feel after that. Did you at least eat something?"

Your appetite had essentially disappeared so Schlatt had been watching you like a hawk almost to make sure you were taking care of yourself. You nodded at his question and shuffled out of his office mumbling as you left, "I'm gonna go lay down and take those other meds" 

He nodded, "Call me if you need anything, Toots"

You smiled at the nickname and agreed before retreating to your bedroom. You looked through the bottles you had gotten from the pharmacy finding the extra strength painkillers and taking one before laying down on the soft comforter of the bed, Jambo hopping up next to you and cuddling into your side, as if feeling your pain and trying to soothe you. 

A little over an hour later you found yourself sweating, curled up on your side still on the bed, crying quietly in severe pain, worse than the day before. The pain was so bad that you felt your body begin to shake, and the nausea was terrible. You blindly felt around for your phone that you had tossed somewhere on the bed earlier and almost sighed in relief when the cool glass screen touched your hand. You immediately pulled up Schlatt's contact and texted him even though he was just in the other room. 

Me: Can you come here, please?

Without even getting a response, you heard the unmistakable sound of his office door quickly opening and shutting and Schlatt's footsteps as he came into the bedroom. He immediately softened upon seeing you in such a state. 

"Honey, what's wrong?" He asked softly. 

"C-can you feel my forehead? I think I have a fever" You mumbled not answering his question. 

He nodded and pulled up the sleeve on his left arm resting the back of his hand on your forehead and frowning softly, " Well you don't feel warm but you don't look like you're feeling well. Did you take those pain meds?"

You nodded, "Like an hour ago, the pain has gotten so much worse though!"

"Do you think we need to go back to the ER? I know you hate going to the hospital..." He asked sitting next to you on the bed.

You nod again and speak quietly, "Yeah, they said if it gets worse or the pain can't be managed with the meds then I should go back"

Schlatt nodded in understanding, "Alright I'll go get your bag, just try and move slowly okay? I don't want you to worsen the pain as much as you can" he kissed your temple before moving around the room and grabbing your keys, wallet and some things of his own just in case. You managed to roll out of the bed, still crying in pain as you went. Schlatt gathered his and your things and offered his arm as he helped you out of the apartment and into the car. You both got in and headed back to the hospital.

As he drove your nauseousness became worse and worse and you spoke up quickly, "Jay, please pull over"

Schlatt quickly turned on his hazards and pulled the car over, you quickly took off your seatbelt and rolled out of the car feeling the intense need to empty your stomach but it luckily didn't come. You climbed back into the car and Schlatt checked with you to make sure you were okay before continuing the uncomfortable drive to the hospital. 

Soon enough you found yourself back in the ER, this time shaking violently due to the pain, and feeling faint. Schlatt even mentioned to you that you looked sickly pale when you walked into the front area. As you sat at the reception desk, you explained quickly that you were just there the day before and they found a kidney stone and that your pain was worse. As you got checked in you made sure to ask for a puke bag and found a spot to sit and wait to get seen by triage. 

"Jay," you mumbled blinky rapidly, "I think I'm gonna pass out"

Schlatt immediately rushed to the front desk and a nurse rushed to grab you a wheelchair to sit in just in case you did pass out. Triage called for you and the nurse helped wheel you into the small office you had just been in not even a full 24 hours before. Schlatt answered the triage nurse as best as he could as you slowly felt yourself almost falling unconscious. In and out of delirium from pain and nausea, you slightly remembered your blood being taken for testing and Schlatt wheeling you back into the waiting area.

"Wanna try and lay down, Honey?" he asked you softly, parking the wheelchair by a couch in the waiting area, you nodded and he helped you up from the chair and onto the couch. Minutes passed by oddly for you in this state and soon enough a nurse was calling you back to get a room. 

As Schlatt wheeled you behind the nurse guiding you to your room, the feeling of being sick finally became too much and you began to violently empty your stomach into the bag in your hands. Schlatt hurriedly got you into your assigned room and soothingly rubbed your back as you repeatedly puked. Once you were done, he and the nurse helped you onto the hospital bed. The nurse explained that you'd have to change into a hospital gown and Schlatt without even needing to be asked immediately assisted with taking off his hoodie from you as well as your shirt helping tie the hospital gown around you and helping you settle into the bed. After you had gotten dressed the nurse had come back in and got your IV in and set up and you were immediately given some heavy pain meds and anti-nausea medications. 

Just like the day before you need to give a urine sample, and once your nauseousness settled you were able to do so. The doctor you were seeing was different from the day before so you once again had to explain that they had found a kidney stone the day before and that the pain had worsened and the nausea was worse as well. Although the doctor tried to explain this away as being normal with kidney stones, Schlatt refused that and told the doctor that this was worse than the day before and asked that they at least check. Luckily, the doctor agreed with him and ordered you to get another CT scan to check everything. 

The ordeal started once again, waiting for a nurse to take you to get a CT Scan, getting the scan done, and waiting for the results of everything. Luckily, Schlatt was able to still be in a good mood and tried to keep happy through the whole deal. You turned on the TV in our room and were pleasantly surprised to see that the Grammys were on, which you loved watching, Schlatt tolerated fit of your sake. You excitedly sang along with Sabrina Carpenter while she performed and if you noticed Schlatt quietly singing along, no you did not. You cheered when your favorite singers won awards or complained that they were robbed when they lost. Schlatt would point out celebrities doing weird things in the background, or when Taylor Swift was dancing to Kendrick Lamar. 

Eventually, the doctor came back and she did not look too pleased with the results of all your tests. Without waiting she immediately dived in, "So, with your blood and urine tests we were able to determine that you most likely have an infection, which explains the nausea. As for the pain, the CT scan shows that your stone hasn't moved. Usually with a stone that small we would just wait for it to move and yeah it definitely would hurt,"

You nodded along assuming that they would just give your more intense pain medications and be sent home, but the doctor continued, "So, we think it would be best to do a cystoscopy and remove that stone"

Your eyes widen, you had never had surgery before, let alone be hospitalized overnight. You looked at Schlatt, tears already coming up, he immediately grabbed your hand and went into serious mode, "So, are they going to have to stay overnight?"

The doctor nodded empathetically, "Yes. But, the surgery is pretty quick, they'll use a robot-like device and extract the stone and get it tested to see what caused it. But you'll be asleep during it. We can get it done tomorrow morning and then you won't have to worry about it after!"

You couldn't help the tears falling from the fear of the unknown but you nodded, "Okay..."

"You'll be in good hands, you'll have a nurse assigned to you all night and we'll move you to an in-patient room. We'll give you medication as you need it" 

Schlatt kissed your temple and spoke quietly, "You'll be okay, Honey, and I will come and see you as much as I can"

You agreed quietly and before you know it you were being carted off in a wheelchair with Schlatt following quietly behind you to the elevator to be put into in-patient care.

It was going to be a long night. 

[hard-core-super-star]

OWN MY MIND [wandanat]

pairing: top!wanda maximoff x bottom!natasha romanoff

summary: wanda's crush on natasha has grown to nearly unbearable levels. instead of pining after her, she decides to do something about it during a party.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! -> porn with plot; wanda has a crush and she's about to make it EVERYONE'S problem; semi-public sex; slightly obsessive wanda go brr; so much teasing; the clothes stay on because i say so; thigh-grinding; fingering [nat receiving]; neck kisses; i got hooked on the idea so there's a lot of expostion; shitty dirty talk; so much bickering

wordcount: 3.8k

a/n: I'M ALIVE! i did not mean to disappear again but life had other plans 😅that being said, I'M OKAY! i survived a very stressful january and my writer's block seems to be easing somewhat. every year i say i'll be more active on here and it doesn't always work very well BUT i'm trying! anyway, i hope you guys are doing well, my askbox is always open for you all. that being said, i hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

There wasn't much Wanda was sure of anymore.

At some point, she'd been sure her and her family were going to be safe. She'd been proven wrong the day a Stark Industries missile crashed into her living room, sending all her childish hopes of safety with it.

After that, she'd been sure she'd never leave her brother's side, even agreeing to become an experiment for HYDRA to guarantee their safety. Their powers had helped and even when Ultron appeared, she was sure they'd figure things out together.

That dream had instantly been shot down, along with Pietro and the remnants of her home, after Ultron's attack.

She hated thinking about it. About everything she lost. About the dreams she'd held onto for most of her life that were meaningless now. That didn't serve any purpose other than reminding her she was alone.

Sure, she had the Avengers now but...they didn't understand her. Not the way her brother had.

Clint tried his hardest to be there for her before he left to be with his family, do doubt feeling guilty over something that wasn't his fault. He wasn't to blame for Pietro's sacrifice and they both knew blaming him wouldn't bring the speedster back anyway.

In a weird way, though, the archer was the only one who truly understood her grief so when he left...Wanda did what she had always done. She retreated into herself, ignoring the looks of the rest of the team and Vision's borderline annoying insistence that she talk to someone.

She didn't need to talk about anything. There was nothing to talk about. Nothing that could change the pain she carried every day.

Nothing...except Natasha Romanoff.

Their friendship hadn't come out of nowhere despite how hard the older woman liked to act otherwise. Even without her powers, she knew Clint had been the one to push Natasha in her direction. It was also obvious that the Widow had no idea what to do.

It was weirdly charming.

Despite how hard she tried to act like she cold and heartless, Natasha cared. She cared a lot more than she wanted to. Especially about Wanda.

So, when the older woman started appearing outside her door at ungodly hours of the night, seemingly unaware of the tear that stained the witch's cheeks, and inviting her to train with her...Wanda decided trusting her wouldn't do any harm.

That much was true. No real harm came from getting close to Natasha. If anything, she helped more than anyone at the Tower had even tried. She didn't care that Wanda didn't want to talk about what happened in Sokovia, that her inner demons showed their face every night and left her with nightmares too intense to ignore, that her powers grew stronger every day.

The Widow didn't seem to care about the details. She simply cared enough to be there. Sometimes she showed up earlier, before any nightmares could haunt her dreams, other times she showed up later and with a tea in hand that she quickly offered to her. There were no words exchanged but she knew.

And that meant more to Wanda than she could even put into words.

Those feelings, though, quickly grew out of her control. It happened almost on accident, practically without thinking. All she knew is that one day she felt...drawn to Natasha in a way she hadn't noticed before.

To the curve of her neck, the flex of her biceps, the tension in her jaw when she throws a punch. All the little details came together and left her feeling far too confused for her liking.

Confused and yet far too in control.

And to say Wanda was slowly becoming obsessed with control would be an understatement.

This flurry of thoughts is what leads her to do something too far out of her comfort zone. It's a shitty idea, she knows that, but when Vision off-handedly tells her of the party Tony will be throwing later that day, a plan slowly starts forming in her head.

A plan that involves a certain redhead and the confusing feelings that settle low in her stomach when they're alone together. Of course, she's not a stranger to desire, she knows what her feelings really are, but that doesn't mean she's exactly okay with them. With the suddenness and the intensity of her thoughts. Of the fantasies she longs to make a reality.

She's just as patient as she is stubborn, though, so she waits. Waits until the party is in full swing, until she's all dolled up in her favorite dress, paired with the leather jacket she never gave back to redhead, and then she strikes.

It must look weird. It certainly feels weird, stepping out into the crowd instead of avoiding everyone in her room. She has to step out of her comfort zone if she wants to go after what she wants, though, and she's determined to sink her teeth into Natasha before the end of the night.

Thankfully, she doesn't have to wait long for her opportunity.

As soon as she makes her way into the bustle of the party, she scans the room for the Widow. She finds her by the bar, chatting with Tony and Rhodey with a drink in hand.

Even though she wants to waste no time, she decides to linger. To let the anticipation build and see how long it'll take Natasha to bite. It's both torturous and enticing. A borderline perverted mix of longing that makes her heart threaten to burst out of her chest.

When Natasha's eyes finally meet her gaze, she sends a soft smile her way before pretending to be incredibly interested in her drink. It's a cheap strategy, she knows that, and yet it's one that works in her favor.

She only has to wait a few more minutes before the Widow untangles herself from Tony's drawn-out (although probably annoyingly entertaining) story and makes her way over to her.

"I didn't take you for a beer girl," she says, raising a perfectly trimmed eyebrow at her.

"There is a lot you don't know about me," Wanda replies, her accent coming out strong. It's half on purpose and half on accident. It tends to slip out easier when she's around people she's genuinely comfortable with.

And Natasha is right at the top of that list. Even if she doesn't fully know it.

The Widow lets out a soft huffing sound in response. It's not quite a laugh, but there's an edge of fondness to it that neither of them can fully ignore. It's not every day she allows herself to be so unguarded.

"You're pretty and witchy, what else is there to know?"

The teasing remark only makes the younger woman's smile grow wider. "Does that mean you think I'm pretty?"

Wanda accompanies her question with an alluring tilt of her head, watching in amusement as Natasha takes a long sip of her drink to avoid answering. Even if she doesn't say the words, she's been caught red-handed and the witch couldn't be happier about it. Maybe her sudden desire for the woman isn't as one-sided as she'd allowed herself to believe.

"What are you even doing here?" Natasha asks, her tone far too casual for the intensity in her gaze. "You hate Tony and you hate parties."

The witch in question simply shrugs. "I was tired of sitting on my ass."

This time, the Widow actually laughs. "Clint should have never taught you that phrase."

"I don't know, I think it's quite fitting." She pauses for a moment, letting the air between crackle with a hard to define energy. One just as powerful and unpredictable as her own powers. "You seem to like looking at my ass."

The older woman's eyes widen before quickly darting around them. Sure, they're leaning up against the ridiculously placed bar but no one around them is paying attention. Tony and Rhodey left to find someone else to bore with their competitive stories and everyone else is scattered around the room, too engrossed in their conversations or their drinks to pay them any mind.

Not to mention, Wanda would never allow them to notice them. It's not mind control, not really, which means she feels no guilt at manipulating reality for a few moments.

"Since when are you so bold, Maximoff?"

"Since I decided to start going after what I want." 

This time, she pairs her words with a subtle step forward. It's not enough for their bodies to press together, but the intention is more than clear. It's a hint and a warning all wrapped up in one. One the Widow could easily ignore if she wanted to.

Wanda almost expects her to, considering how shifty her eyes are. How her attention seems to bounce around the room more and more. She's sure she's never seen the older woman so nervous before. It's as cute as it is enticing.

Finally, Natasha relents. She lets out a long sigh, her gaze shifting back to Wanda's. "You couldn't find a more appropriate time for that?"

The younger woman's smile turns into a smirk. Her free hand reaches out, manicured fingers running down the length of the redhead's arm. "We could always...sneak away, just the two of us..."

Natasha lets out a soft chuckle at that, her resistance clearly wavering, even as she tries to hold strong. "I don't think that's a smart idea, princess."

Wanda's pout is almost enough to make her melt. Almost.

"Why not? Aren't we on the same page about this?"

"It's not that simple."

The witch knows she should at least ask why. That she should pretend to care about the hesitations she knows are swimming around in Natasha's head. She doesn't need to read her mind to know what they are, why they matter. But it's hard to think straight when her advances aren't being rejected. When she's so close to getting what she wants.

So, instead of doing any of the rational things the Widow seems to be struggling with, she wordlessly grabs her hand and leads her away from prying eyes. They're a few ways away but still near the hustle and bustle of the party. Far away to fully hear each other but close enough to be caught if someone decided to wander around.

She's not fully thinking about that possibilty, though. All her focus is on Natasha and getting her to admit how much she wants her. How much she needs this too.

Without thinking about the consequences, she pushes the older woman up against the wall, their eyes meeting once more. The bright green flecks of Natasha's eyes seem to sparkle almost dangerously. Unfortunately, Wanda is too far gone to heed the warnings.

"Wanda, we can't." There's no real discomfort in the Widow's voice. No real attempt at getting the younger woman to stop.

So, she doesn't.

Wanda merely lets out a soft hum but makes no attempt to step away or fully listen to the older woman's complaints. Instead, she leans in more insistently, her lips trailing up Natasha's neck and leaving heated kisses on her skin.

The redhead wants to pull away. To tell Wanda to stop and let her walk away before they do something they'll regret. It's impossible to fight against her, though. Especially when her hands join the slow exploration.

"Why can't we?" The witch asks, her hands settling on Natasha's hips. "Why do you want to pretend like you don't want me?"

The sound the redhead makes is somewhere between a huff and a groan. "That's not what I'm doing. I'm just trying to be smart about this." 

"There's nothing smart about this," she replies. "But I want you and you want me. What more do we need?"

Natasha opens her mouth to answer but Wanda doesn't give her a chance. In one swift move, she hooks the redhead's leg around her waist before pressing herself against her, drawing a soft gasp from her parted lips.

"You were saying?"

"You're so annoying, little witch."

The teasing nickname makes Wanda huff. Sure, it also makes her heart skip a beat but mostly, it annoys her. "Then tell me to stop, 'Tasha."

"Just shut up and kiss me already."

There it is. The permission she'd been waiting for. The clear admittance that their feelings were the same. That the sparks of desire she'd been feeling during training weren't one-sided delusions.

The witch wastes no time in connecting their lips once the realization hits her. Despite the intensity of their desires, the kiss is surprisingly soft. 

It's still more than a little desperate and yet there's an edge of affection that makes them melt. That leaves them craving more.

Thankfully, they both have more than enough ideas on how to fix that craving. The youngest of the two takes the leap first, though, not one bit embarrased of showing how desperate she is for more.

 Wanda grinds her hips up against Natasha's, slowly hiking her dress up to reveal the smooth skin underneath the fabric. There's something about both the setting and their outfits that drives them both mad. Something about being so exposed and yet so composed at the same time. Something about the matching black fabric of their dresses that turns them on more.

Her lips leave the Widow's just to trail down her jaw, her hands moving down her body with purpose. She grips her hips hard enough to move the older woman against her as she easily slots one of her thighs between her legs, giving her the perfect surface to grind against.

"You're so quiet, 'Tasha," the witch teases, unable to stop her flourishing dominant side for rearing its head.

Natasha knows she's allowing herself to slip. That she shouldn't be letting her guard down like this. Shouldn't be giving Wanda this much control over her.

It's not like she can help it, though. There's an intensity behind the younger woman's movements that she doesn't want to fight against. She wants to let it consume her until there's nothing left. No trace of her fears or hesitations.

She's not about to admit that any time soon, though. Even as her bucking hips give her away.

"That's because we're in public," she replies, keeping her voice as even as she can. "I can actually control myself unlike some people."

Wanda chuckles, keeping up her slow movements. "That's not what your hips are telling me."

"You're the one moving them," she shoots back.

The witch leans back slightly, a smirk forming on her face and pairing beautifully with her dialated pupils. "Is that so? If I move my hands away, you'll stop trying to hump my leg?"

Without waiting for an answer, she moves her hands away from the redhead's hips, allowing her fingers to trail up her torso toward her chest. She keeps her touch light and teasing, using it to further draw out the other woman's desires.

"That's not fair," Natasha huffs, her cheeks flushing a light shade of pink as the attention piles on. "You're the one that started this, you have to finish it."

"But we haven't even started yet, have we? You still have too many clothes on."

Wanda's fingers linger on the strap of Natasha's dress, sliding it down just enough to allow her lips to connect to the exposed skin. She focuses her attention on that spot just enough to make the older woman's hips buck against her.

"Fuck," she groans. "This is so unfair."

"I think it's more than fair. I can feel how much you want me. You're soaked, aren't you?"

Her question is met with another groan, this one in a sightly higher, more desperate, pitch. The witch is right, of course. She's already drenched and all she's done is lazily grind against her thigh.

It's practically impossible to stop her body from responding to her, though. Even without reading her mind, she knows her cues all too well after spending so much sparring with her.

Then again, she's pretty sure she wouldn't mind allowing her to invade her thoughts. Something about the lack of control makes her gush.

The low chuckle Natasha's thought is met with makes her eyes widen in response, her hands coming up to grip the younger woman���s shoulders. “Are you seriously reading my mind right now?”

Wanda knows the redhead is trying to sound intimidating but she’s far too breathless, far too wet against her thigh, for her to feel anything but satisfaction. “I couldn’t help it, your thoughts are so loud.”

The response is exactly what she had been expecting and all she can do is huff. “Don’t make it a habit.”

Her words only make Wanda bolder. With her words, her touch, her unbearable need to make the other woman fall apart just for her. “I thought you wanted me in your mind, ‘Tasha?”

The Widow knows she's been caught. That even if the witch didn't spend much time in her head, she knows how much she loves this. How much she wants this. This back and forth dance that will no doubt end with her on her knees.

And still, she's far too stubborn to admit it.

"Shut up." It's a weak remark but it's the only one she has. The only two words she can coherently form as her hips roll against the hard muscle pressing so insistently against her heat. "If you wanted to talk so much, you should have taken me on a date."

"If you don't like me talking so much, why are you so wet?"

It's infuriating. For every snarky response she can form, Wanda has two more waiting for her. It's like she knows exactly how to work her up, exactly how to meet her where she's at instead of trying to change her. It's more than infuriating, it's...it's sweet. In its own complicated, slightly fucked up way, the witch is being sweet.

Maybe it's that realization that makes her melt. Or maybe she's just too pent up to care anymore. She knows what the answer is, but she ignores it in favor of gripping Wanda's wrist and guiding it between her legs.

"I'd prefer it if you stopped talking and started doing, princess."

The witch's body tenses for a second, almost like her brain is struggling to catch up to reality, but then her fingers are working their way into Natasha's underwear and they both let out twin moans at the feeling.

Instead of taking a moment to tease her, Wanda dives right in, her patience fading with every buck of the older woman's hips. She sinks two fingers into Natasha's aching cunt, barely reminding herself to take it easy. To draw her pleasure out until she's writhing and groaning.

"Is this better for you, 'Tasha?" She asks, her lips making their way to Natasha's neck once more. She knows better than to leave too many marks behind, but she can't help her urges and she sinks her teeth into the side of the older woman's neck.

Natasha's walls clench around her fingers, nails digging into the witch's jacket as sparks of pleasure shoot up her spine. She arches her back into her touch, her hips bucking a little too wildly for her taste. It's not like she can help her movements. Not when it feels so good.

"Wanda," she moans, her cheeks heating up as she realizes how desperate she sounds. "Fuck, don't stop."

If Wanda was slightly more sadistic she would push her to beg. As enticing as that sounds, she'd much prefer to show her how good she can make her feel instead.

"I won't," she says as her thumb finds its way onto Natasha's swollen clit. "Not until you fall apart for me. Until you admit how good I make you feel."

Her pride seems like a small price to pay for the pleasure that's turning her brain to mush. She opens her mouth to stroke Wanda's ego some more when the younger woman speeds up her movements, her fingers curling just enough to leave her gasping.

She pushes her hips into her fingers with every thrust, looking far more needy than she ever allows herself to be. "Right there, fuck, feels so good."

Natasha's never really been one for talking during sex, far too accustomed to selfish lovers who don't need her approval to feel like they're doing things right. It's different this time, though. Not just because she genuinly feels good, but because it's so clear that Wanda feels good. That this is what she wants. Touching her, pleasing her, driving her to the brink of madness. The witch has never looked more comfortable, more in her element, than she does right now.

"You gonna cum for me already?" The witch teases, pretending she's not doing everything in her power to make the older woman fall apart. "Here? Where anyone could see you? See how desperate you are for my fingers?"

The slight degradation shouldn't turn her on more, but it does. It makes her head fall back as an incoherent string of curses leave her lips. She knows she should at least feel a little emberrased but she can't. Can't think about anything except Wanda's fingers pistoning in and out of her wet pussy.

"Yes," she replies breathlessly. "I need- need to cum."

Wanda doubles her efforts as soon as she hears Natasha admit how close she is. Her thumb presses down on her twitching clit, rubbing fast circles against it until the Widow's walls are spasming around her fingers. 

"That's it, let go for me, 'Tasha. Make a mess on my fingers."

She doesn't have to be told twice.

The coil in Natasha's stomach snaps almost instantly, leaving her clinging to the witch as the pleasure crashes into her all at once.

Wanda watches her with wide eyes, greedily drinking in every twitch of her face, every desperate sound she can't hold back. She's sure she's never seen anything so breathtaking in her life.

All it does, though, is make her realize how much more she wants. How badly she needs Natasha. How her mind has filled up with fantasies she's not sure she can live without.

After losing everything she's ever had, she has to have the older woman.

That will come later, though, right now, she has more important things to focus on. Like making sure Natasha can walk long enough for them to retire to her room for the night.

* * * * * * *

taglist: @boredandneedfanfics

[randomfoggytiger]

in reading the anons idea that Diana didn't pose much of a threat, I started to review my initial assessment of her.

While I agree that we are not seen a lot of Diana on screen, I think her threat is of the unknown. It's almost like not knowing your spouse's exes but still having a sting because you get all the crazy "what-ifs" running through your head: what if I am not as interesting, what if they were funnier, what if my spouse is not with the other because they were dumped and still have feelings, what if. What if. What if. I think that is her threat and for a moment we see the what if. If Scully had not called Mulder to go find Cassandra, Mulder would have gone with Diana and then what? Then, there is Mulder's dream of "what if" he had a life with Diana. I m a little fuzzy with the why he dreamt of her. Was she or CSM controlling the dream or was it Mulder's own dream? These what ifs for me are what make her a threat.

I wanted more of a resolution with scenes like when Gibson says that Mulder is thinking about one of the girls and one of the girls was thinking about him. Maybe I am weird and it's an unpopular opinion, but showing Mulder and Scully have some (just some) real conversations to resolve that "what if" would have been enticing. We somewhat see Scully's emotions especially when she goes to TLG.

Last note: the scene in which Scully is trying to give Mulder some results on Gibson and Mulder refuses to take it and says " are you asking me to choose" and Scully says "I'm asking you to trust my judgement" deserved Scully turning her back on him and walking out. There was a missed chance of some good tension that could be nicely resolved, but NO she let's Mulder off the hook too easily. Why? Did we ever see Mulder really have to worry about Scully having enough of him and walking away just for herself? Other than being abducted or dying of cancer, he didn't worry that she would leave.

The dream, as far as i'm aware via the scripts, was meant to come from Mulder's head; but it had to have been influenced a bit by reality-- CSM and Diana's presence pop up here and there when the two are right next to him, for example. Mulder, in essence, felt "doomed" to live this normal life, felt he should be happy he finally got a normal life... but knew, deep-down, that it was a hollow, shallow, selfish, cowardly existence. When Scully's presence nearby drew her into his subconscious, he dreamed about her acting as his moral voice: "Get up and fight." The life he has with her, he realized, is worth the danger that she chooses to place herself in-- he can't martyr his freedom to secure her safety. They are each other's touchstones.

Diana definitely disguises her motivations to Mulder, appearing upfront and honest and as boots-on-the-ground-to-find-the-truth as he is. That would have been a particularly juicy bit of character work to mine into; but, alas, she only shows up here or there, and is barely mentioned (once) outside of mytharc episodes. My favorite bits of character work were her manipulation in The End and her conversations with CSM in Amor Fati-- wish we'd had more.

The scene in The Beginning is a bit more... complicated. I don't believe it should have resolved with Scully walking away from Mulder: it was a follow-up to Scully not trusting him in front of the FBI board, despite their five year partnership's trust and her own experiences in Antarctica. She could have stalled for time, could have thrown up solidarity even if the proof wasn't in her hands right then... but she didn't; because she wasn't ready to wholly accept the truth-- not until her experience in Africa, almost a year later. Mulder felt betrayed-- and he wasn't completely wrong, but also not completely right-- and his feelings were partially justified when Scully did find the evidence at the end when it no longer mattered. She didn't apologize for not backing his theory up; and he didn't apologize for not trusting her new set of answers. Both were in the wrong, to varying though comparable degrees; and both decided to wordlessly move on rather than address the problem. (That problem, by the way, is brought up and finally addressed in Field Trip.) That's why Season 6 is less intense than previous seasons: they jockey back-and-forth from being in the wrong to smoothly sailing over each fumble to grappling onto the next case or piece of evidence.

@agent-troi's Season 6 observations here really hits the nail on the head: "...in some ways they’re more joined at the hip than ever before. . this season has the highest concentration of shippy episodes.... the only times they really don’t get along are when diana actually appears in the episode (side note: diana only gets mentioned once in the episodes in which she doesn’t appear, a fact which intrigues me to no end. it’s like when she’s not there she doesn’t even exist, and in fact i have actually forgotten she existed while watching some of these episodes lol). ...i think their schism in the beginning is partly due to mulder being petulant because scully couldn’t/wouldn’t back him up at the opr hearing after he put himself way out there earnestly insisting with his whole chest she was about to present proof of alien life. it’s not that he suddenly doesn’t trust her anymore, he just feels (somewhat irrationally) like he was let down. ...but in the very next episode (drive) they’re a team again, using his intuition combined with her science to figure out what’s going on with crump. the fact that they couldn’t save him wasn’t their fault, and is almost incidental to what this episode really illustrates, which is not only how well they work together, but that they still can work together, and the past five years between them haven’t been erased just because diana’s back in town. ...i think people sometimes overestimate the impact diana had on their relationship. i think she was definitely a catalyst for them to examine some of their feelings more closely, but she was never gonna drive a permanent wedge between them. the closest she came was in one son, and even then they manage to pull back from the brink of destruction. scully asks for mulder’s trust, and he gives it by going to look for proof that diana really has betrayed him. if it had been the other way around, if diana had accused scully of working for the syndicate, he would have dismissed the idea immediately and never even bothered to consider it...." The entire post is mandatory reading, in my opinion. XDDDD

Also! There are many, many incredible Diana metas out there-- a few of which are @scullysflannel's thoughts here, @agent-troi and @actual-changling and @waxworkdaughter and my collaborative thoughts here-- and follow-up, with @baronessblixen's input, here; @deathsbestgirl's thoughts here; @limnsaber's tags here; @iconicscullyoutfits's thoughts here); and @welsharcher's deleted scene proving Diana's a one-trick pony here. I've also tried my hand at a few posts (here, here, here, here, and here), including a musical edit here, heheheh.

Thank you for your patience if you read this far, anon. XDDDD Thoroughly enjoyed pouring over your thoughts-- thanks again for sharing!

[frillydolle]

Hi hihi hi Hai =3 so this isn't an x reader request but I wanted to send in something similar to a request from I think a few days ago!! It's like the Arthur and teenage girl reader but instead she's an edgy and street smart street kid that might be a child outlaw herself already, always offering to help on dangerous missions or robberies and Always getting it done but she's always really nice and like a regular kid around Arthur so when they're both out intimidating O'driscolls or smth their father-daughter dynamic is like that one audio from south park that's like "And i will watch the crimson blood LEAK from ur neck >=[" "Dude that little kid is a hardcore goth" "Hardcore goth"

arthur morgan x teen female reader

꒰ 𝝑𓏲 ꒱ arthur is in his late thirties , reader is in her teen years , o'driscolls take an interest in u.

“soo arthur, i heard—”

“ye ain't goin'. yer stayin' here.”

“uhh! fine...”

okay first, he'd usually let u go but this one was more dangerous. although, when u did get to go with them, u would help proper or u use the “lost little girl” facade as bait before arthur or someone else steps in in case something goes wrong.

arthur especially didn't want anything to go sour when ur with them.

u knew what u were doing, of course. u have been out on the streets for as long as u could remember, and u did learn a trick—or two. when u were out with the gang, arthur would keep a keen eye— or he'd get john to, just to make sure that u didn't do anything stupid or get hurt.. badly. sometimes, u lack awareness and head straight for danger. okay, well, after practically convincing begging arthur to have u go with him and the gang... he finally agreed, and u were super duper happy!

“ye ain't leavin' my sight, 'kay?”

“yees, i know, arthur. 'm gonna be fine, won't stray far.”

only today, it wasn't that easy. u remained by his side, but all good things come to an end, right? u and arthur were returning back to valentine, took a trip to a general store, and then the gunsmith, just for a few pieces. only to be disturb by the only and only irish-american gang that roamed the states; o'driscolls. bastards, they all were. u didn't know much about them but u did know enough that they were sick and messed up folks.

“well, well, well.. if it ain't morgan 'nd... who's this pretty little lady with ya?—” one of the o'driscolls says to u with a smirk as he looks u up and down, which makes a shiver go up ur spine.

“shut up—” u blurt out with an eyeroll before arthur gave u a subtle look. a look of keep it cool. and u did ur best to listen, but there have been times when ur mouth git the better of u.

“ain't none yer business, fools.” arthur added, the gruffness in his tone showing clear as day. many folk were intimidating by arthur. who wouldn't be? he was rough 'n' tough looking, and his height only just increased the fear. the o'driscolls? they just adored taunting and hassling other people. arthur hitches up on his horse and u follow suit or tried to before u were grabbed by the wrist by one of them gross men, which caught arthurs attention quickly—

“let go of me, you bastard!” u say, struggling to get ur grip out of his. pulling, pushing, yanking and nothing worked while arthur was getting off his horse.

“she's got quite the mouth on ya, hm? it'll be kind if someone shut it up, save ya the trouble.” one says as the three other men laugh at his words. u only got a month on u from the life u lived prior to falling in with the gang. there was no way u would let anyone talk to u like that.

“wished it save me the trouble of talkin' to ya.” u reply sharply which caused arthur to shoot a look at u, a look of a smirk that he knew u had quite the mouth. which coukd get u trouble but not when arthur's with u.

“now leaves us alone or skin ya 'nd serve ya for dinner.” u added before placing ur hand by ur gun, arthur added his own threat as he grabbed ur arm, taking u away from the situation. following suit. 󠀠󠀠“careful not to shoot up a whole town, kid.” arthur replies as he caught up to u.

“sorry, they just— goddamn bastards...”

“agreed, yer fine. lets jus' get home."

[bean-spring]

You can understand Helena's complexity, the reasons behind her actions and the inherent connection between her and Mark that is clearly there beyond questioning if she's Helly or not ("that sort of kinship carry over from innie to outie"), because at the end of the day, she is her (in different circumstances and enviornments).

But that doesn't mean that outside of the poetry and natural attraction between them there isn't the whole question of whether this is right or wrong. It isn't just "this is rape and she's inherently and utterly evil" or "they're the same person and she's also hurt, so it's okay" because that would minimize what the show is working so hard on. And that is fucking with our heads making us wonder who we truly are, what things would make us commit these actions, what truly is freedom, and at what point we stop being ourselves.

Let me make this clear (it's just my opinion): No, it wasn't consensual. Mark didn't consent to having sex with Helena. He thought it was Helly. That part is obvious to everyone. The whole "he said he doesn't care who she is outside, but he cares who she is with him, so it is consensual!" doesn't matter when he actually doesn't know who the fuck she is. He is being lied to. He said that because he thought he was talking to his Helly and didn't care who she was outside because, at the end of the day, despite being the same people, innies are practically born again (socially) and build a personality and experiences from the very beginning, from their very first memory that is appearing in the office (Dan literally refers to this point of their lives as "adolescense" while S1 was "childhood"). And they keep fighting for their rights and individual freedom.

I don't think we're giving this its proper depth, tbh. It isn't just "Helena wasn't Helly here". It's: Helena has way more knowledge than Mark has, while Mark believes they're both on the same page. Helena went there hoping for an experience in specific with him (selfishly), while for Mark it happened way more organically. Helena has said she doesn't view innies as human and has been watching them as if they were a Sims 4 gameplay. For Mark, it's Helly and the fact that their connection goes beyond that night while for Helena it's not that much about Mark himself. There is a clear, obvious power difference in here and she is, after all, for now, one of the antagonists. We can't forget that.

But it isn't just "evil" or "bad" or "cruel". Because Helena, due to the lack of freedom in her own life, is in the same place (in a different enviornment, though and turning that into power over others instead) as them. She longs for a human connection she has never experienced before. She is broken and torn apart about who she truly is. She uses Mark to experience this, yes, but at what point does that turn into real attraction? At what point her jealousy towards her innie and dehumanization of both herself and the group turns into her also realizing she's the same and understanding Mark? At what point does Mark fall for and embrace the kinship that connects Helly/Helena (that guilt and shame and lack of freedom and yearning for love) instead of just seeing double? At what point does Helena stop seeing a chance to experience love to start seeing... Just Mark?

And after ALL OF THAT it still doesn't make it okay to do what she did.

In the most natural, poetic, human perception of this scene, there is a connection between no matter who they are. But memories and shared experiences are also a huge part of ourselves, we do change with them. Both Mark and Helly have said multiple times that they don't see themselves as an extension of their outies and are their own selves. It doesn't matter whether they are the same or not, it's how they see it. Mark never agreed to share his body with Helena specifically and that's taking away from him the chance of choosing individually. His freedom.

In my opinion it was 100% rape but it's way deeper than just that. It's still awful, though, and we have to start learning to embrace complex characters and try to understand them without only being guided by our IRL moral compass.

[epickiya722]

I'm gonna be frank, I don't think I'll be understood here on my stance (especially since I'm just not good with my words) and I know some of you isn't going to agree with me. That's fine. I'm okay with different perspectives.

I'll be honest, 431 isn't the most well written epilogue and yes, I don't particularly like it.

But it wasn't the only thing that made me irritated. It was just the tipping point of "You know what, I kind of had it".

The writing definitely didn't do Midoriya justice, neither for Uraraka and Toga. But let's not act like Bakugou had great writing there either because for me, him asking Midoriya to work at his agency didn't feel like Bakugou to me.

Over the story, we see that Bakugou had grown to be more open towards Midoriya. So why did he go about skirting around to ask Midoriya about the agency, let alone ask him at all? And in front of Kirishima who had to act like a translator? So you're telling me Katsuki Bakugou who has freely been straight forward, after learning to be because sometimes Midoriya does need people to be blunt, before couldn't have a conversation with Midoriya about working at the agency?

You're telling me Bakugou couldn't have a discussion with Midoriya like "hey, can I talk to you" and they go from there to having coming to an agreement of sorts?

All that development of their relationship getting better that they could confine in each other that Bakugou and Midoriya couldn't have a scene where they sat down at a restaurant or somewhere, just them and discuss the agency?

No, that had to be sprung up and hinted at Midoriya in a car with Kirishima present? Before they met with their friends?

Maybe it's just me, totally just me, but I don't think Bakugou would have went about it like that. I would have figured that Bakugou would have asked Midoriya to meet with him and together they would have a proper discussion. Like by then, those two would have learned better communication.

Even before Kirishima had to say anything, Midoriya voiced that he enjoyed being a teacher and still thankful that he has a hero suit thanks to everyone.

Actual Bakugou, at least not my Bakugou. wouldn't be framed totally butthurt by Midoriya wanting to still be a teacher. Not when they know can still be heroes and rivals and whatever else together. Bakugou wouldn't let Midoriya being a teacher and not working at his agency keep him awake at night like "can't believe he rejected me, can't believe he rejected me".

Heck, I doubt he would have even brought up an agency in the first place because what mattered to him was that he and Midoriya were heroes together.

If their teachers were able to do it, them why Bakugou would even question Midoriya about still teaching?

So Midoriya isn't the only one at fault here and he's not the only character done dirty. Bakugou didn't have perfect writing here either to me.

But I feel like some people are stuck on "Midoriya betrayed Bakugou" that maybe that's the part not being caught on. That frustration towards Midoriya is blocking from seeing Bakugou was not written well in this chapter.

I wouldn't even say either are at fault here, the chapter just wasn't that good. We had some highlights but it just wasn't the best epilogue and as much as I know a lot of people want to blame Horikoshi since it is his manga, let's not forget who he works for. I don't know the man, but we all have seen what any kind of entertainment industry will do when it comes to any kind of media.

And again, it's not just the writing of the chapter that rubbed me the wrong way. Sure, some bits I could try to make sense of it, even if I don't like it (frankly, something I think should be learned).

But again, as I have said it multiple times before, it was indeed the fandom's reaction to Midoriya and just Midoriya that irked me to the point.

And here's the thing... IT ALWAYS BEEN LIKE THIS EVEN BEFORE THE EPILOGUE.

Like, no, epilogue sucks or whatever, but now I feel like it's just being used as an excuse to further hate on Midoriya more.

Every other character had gotten some kind of "Oh, they got done dirty" by the fandom, but no, not Midoriya. I saw quite a few people framing him as the bad guy when he is also a victim of flawed writing, too!

Even if admitting he too had flawed writing, he still gets hate for it while other characters are felt sorry for.

But even, again, before that the fandom had shown me how much they don't care about him at all. I would say it's always been evident from the start.

Haters, supposed fans... it doesn't matter.

No, I don't expect everyone to like him or see him the same way.

What frustrates me is that some people act like they don't do Midoriya dirty, too, whether you like or not and it's not always the fault of the narrative. The narrative could be flawless and some of you would still hate him for whatever reason or twist him to fit how you want to see him.

[dukeofdelirium]

I’m sorry, but you are objectively wrong in everything you just stated, and I won’t stand for spreading lies on my posts lol.

Chandler Riggs was fired, he did not want to leave The Walking Dead. He is on record stating such for years, and so is his father, who made several pissed off posts online about. Chandler Riggs has said in no uncertain terms that he did not find out that Carl Grimes was even being killed off until a couple of weeks before the death episode was filmed.

The person who made the decision to kill Carl Grimes is Scott Gimple, the previous show runner. He is literally on record saying that it was 100% HIS idea. He got on The Talking Dead back in the day and admitted that much, so idk what you think you’re talking about, but you are wrong.

There was zero narrative reasoning behind the death. Scott Gimple literally said he chose to kill off Carl Grimes because of a “plot hole” in the comic book. He claimed he couldn’t figure out why Negan was spared, and why Rick didn’t kill him. He said killing Carl off would be Rick’s motivation to spare Negan’s life.

This makes absolutely zero sense considering Rick didn’t have to sacrifice his son to spare Negan in the comic, and his reasonings for saving Negan were outright stated: he wanted to make an example of him in the new society and he also spared him for Glenn, who in the comic had never killed a person.

Don’t try to defend shitty writing to me. The reality behind Carl Grimes death was that AMC didn’t want to pay Chandler Riggs an adult salary. Chandler Riggs father stated as much back in 2017.

And here is a video from 2023 of Chandler literally saying he was fired LMAO

Scott Gimple got on TV and said “I killed Carl Grimes in order to follow the comic book” ??? Lmao huh 😭 you mean the comic book where he becomes the MAIN CHARACTER? The fact is that Scott Gimple just said all that to cover up the fact they fired Chandler over pay. Also, the creator of TWD, Robert Kirkman, was suing them at this time and in said lawsuit stated that AMC was exploiting his comic book and his ideas. So then randomly they decide to kill Carl Grimes? Robert’s favorite character? Coincidence? Yeah right. You can claim you’re defending TWD but you’re defending something that is indefensible. Do it somewhere else.

Chandler Riggs father made additional posts which I will quote right now:

“Just to clarify once and for all: Chandler didn't want to leave the show. He had been accepted at UGA, and would complete school while working (online when filming) as he had done high school for the last 8 years.

Scott Gimple personally called him and said on a conference call in April that they needed him for 3 years. Chandler agreed to a 2 year contract, which was typical. 1 year guaranteed and the next one at their option, which was also typical. He signed the deal, graduated from high school and went back to work. He bought a house near the set and enrolled at UGA so that he could be close to work since we had been commuting nearly 2 hours each way all these years.

It was the middle of June, his 18th birthday was coming up in a couple of weeks, 5 episodes were filmed, and they asked for my wife and I to both be at a meeting with Chandler- which was a little odd. It made me nervous but he and his manager assured me it was to plan for filming schedule, etc. Scott Gimple was the only one there and he told us that Carl would be gone in a few episodes. Chandler was absolutely devastated. I was disappointed Scott had been dishonest with a 17 year old making life decisions and waited to tell us.”

AMC forced him to take down this post hours after he made it. But this is the truth. Chandler was fired. By the time the posts were deleted, the truth was out and the fans knew what was up. Which is why Scott Gimple was replaced as show runner, because over 100k people petitioned for it because fans were rightfully pissed that not only was this such an extreme deviation from the source material, but it was also fucking with a kids life.

And as a result, the TV show lost the majority of its viewership. Who woulda thought

Carl Grimes death in the TV show will literally NEVERRRR make sense idc lmfao. Yeah I know it’s been years but it still pisses me the fuck off so bad when I stop to think about it.

The show runners whole justification was that the comic book had a “plot hole” and that killing Carl was his great solution to said plot hole. Never mind the fact that the comic book DIDNT have a plot hole in the first damn place, but even if it DID… even if it did, your first thought was to kill off Rick’s son? Huh?

I’m sorry, in what fucking world does that make even the slightest sense? The Walking Dead was always about a father and his son, and how much the father was willing to do to ensure his son’s survival. If you kill the son, the entire story, and every single thing Rick ever did, is suddenly pointless.

Also, don’t even get me started on the whole adapting random pieces of the comic book but providing no context for it. You can’t just adapt a comic panel frame by frame and then expect fans to love it because “see! we did that cool comic thing!” when nothing else about it is like said comic book.

Oh, and what a wasted potential for the show killing Carl off really was. He had by far the most interesting storyline in the comic book (which the show adapted… for some reason) but no one gaf about it bc it was with characters that didn’t deserve the storyline and that the story wasn’t written for lol.

[kirishwima]

srsly. im not even saying this in a 'woe is me' kinda way. WHY AM I THIS NICE. i want to be mean!! i want to be an asshole!!!!!

[perilegs]

i'm trying to watch a trans guy critique some video game trans rep bc i'm interested in hearing more trans ppl talk about it. but he's very. i'm paraphrasing here but "why would anyone ever in a million years want their rpg character to have top surgery scars. isnt that a constant reminder to you and everyone around you about how you were born" and "you don't work on transitioning. you just need hormone treatment and possibly some--"

[boygirlctommy]

why is there like anti bedrockbros propaganda in the ctommy tag hellow ToT

[narugen]

need to write more narumina i’ve been converted