#and her choices it was just so brilliant and i loved it so

[azazelsazaleas]

Set a course...for home

So I just finished Voyager. And I have thoughts.

Endgame, like the series, was good but felt like it could've been so much more. I'm not the first fan to point out that it's weird that the last thing we see is Voyager flying towards Earth, with no coda or montage or anything showing each of the crew when they get home. What really surprised me on this viewing (I saw it once back when it first aired, but it's been over 20 years and I barely remembered it) was how slow the pacing was until the last 20 minutes or so. I kinda feel like the writers could've trimmed a bit out of it so we could have a more satisfying denouement. Oh well. They got home, Janeway thoroughly wrecked the Borg, and I'm not going to lie - I got a little choked up when they fly out of the exploding Borg Sphere and Janeway says, "We did it."

With that said, may as well go through the good, the not-so-good, and any other random thoughts I have in retrospect.

The good :

Captain Kathryn Janeway.

I'm sorry, that deserves to be written thusly:

CAPTAIN KATHRYN FUCKING JANEWAY

Oh my god, I love this woman. I think, at this point, she's my favorite Star Trek captain and easily one of my favorite characters in the franchise. She absolutely radiates an aura of "I am in charge here, and this situation is going to go how I decide it goes," and she delivers every damn time. Strong-willed, controversial, authoritative, intelligent, creative, and just damned incredible. Janeway alone is a major reason to give this show a watchthrough.

Not to mention, Kate Mulgrew is a fucking INCREDIBLE actress. She brings 110% to every episode, and I swear to god, she basically carried the first two or three seasons.

And speaking of amazing actresses, Jeri Ryan was incredible. A lot of people loved her performance in Body and Soul (and yes, watching her channel Robert Picardo was delightful), but seeing her constantly changing personalities in Infinite Regress two seasons earlier was the big "Holy Shit" moment for me. Even beyond that, she was brilliant as Seven of Nine (and say what you will about ST:Picard, I loved seeing her step back into the role). It also doesn't hurt that Seven is one of the most interesting characters on the show, if not on Star Trek.

In general, the show had some great characters on the main cast. I found I really liked Tuvok and B'Elanna as well. Tim Russ nailed that "annoyed Vulcan who secretly cares" thing, and I thought B'Elanna's struggles with her identity were generally well-handled, at least for mid-late-90s TV.

I'm honestly surprised how fine I was with Tom/B'Elanna. I was not expecting that relationship to work as well as it did.

Speaking of "didn't expect that to work," Naomi Wildman was genuinely endearing as the "kid on the starship" character type that Star Trek seemed adamant on having in the 80s and 90s. I"m glad the writers learned their lessons post-Wesley Crusher.

Oddly enough, I also found I enjoyed some of the "bad" episodes - Threshold, Tuvix, etc. Voyager got pretty weird, so some of the more questionable creative choices were just damned entertaining. Not all of them, though. Which brings me to...

The Bad:

Oh my god fuck the Kazon. They are easily the worst recurring villain race I've seen on Star Trek. They don't even seem like ST villains, they seem like the kind of thing you'd see on a b-rate late night 1990s crappy sci-fi action show. They're like an attempt to make Klingon copies but without literally anything whatsoever that makes the Klingons compelling.

Speaking of which, fuck Seska, too. I still have a hard time buying that any self-respecting Cardassian would look at the Kazon and go, "yep, I'll throw my lot in with them."

The whole Neelix/Kes thing was...gross. I'm sorry, there's no way around that. They had no chemistry, no compelling reason to be in a relationship, and the whole thing with Kes's age felt like a variation on the theme of "she may look 12 but she's actually a 5000 year old dragon." Whichever producer came up with that needs to have something solid thrown at them.

In general, Neelix was just the worst character for the first couple or three seasons. He got a lot better, but early Neelix was...yikes. I got genuinely frustrated with how much time was focused on him.

I also have mixed feelings about Chakotay. Sometimes he was pretty great, but the whole behind-the-seasons thing with the "cultural advisor" made for some pretty bad early character building, and after they gave up on that, he felt kind of flat. And now that I think of it, inconsistent. It seems like the writers (at least in the early seasons) couldn't decide between making him a tough hardass who'll punch you if you don't get in line or the more calm, measured, cautious voice in contrast to Janeway's bullheadedness.

Seven/Chakotay was just...no.

Other random thoughts:

I have mixed feelings about the EMH. Robert Picardo was great in the role, but as the character progressed, I feel like he got away with crossing lines he really should not have. The entire episode Renaissance Man just pissed me off. Can't say I was thrilled with some of his behavior in Body and Soul, either. The whole running gag of him having a giant ego seemed to swing between hilarious and painful to watch, as well.

The show was good, but it felt like it could've been so much more. Part of it was Paramount's insistence on not having anything serialized, but part of it was also how actionized it got. There's a number of episodes that felt like they could've done something more interesting but instead the producers wanted phasers and explosions.

I have very mixed feelings about how the Borg were handled. On one hand, Seven is an amazing character, the Scorpion 2-parter is probably my favorite pair of episodes in the show's run, and there are a couple other Borg-relate episodes I liked. On the other hand, I thought the Borg as a direct threat got stale quickly, Dark Frontier nerfed them way too much, they felt underwhelming as an enemy in Endgame, and (yes I know this is more of a criticism of First Contact, but still) the Borg having a Queen ruins a lot of the creepy mystique they have. No matter how you slice it, I think the Borg as a recurring enemy were pretty much spent by the end of Voyager.

Favorite episodes (off the top of my head): Scorpion 1&2, Equinox 1&2, Bride of Chaotica!

Final score: 7 out of 9 (you were expecting anything else?)

[notebookmusical]

books read in 2025 🤍

books read so far: 6 reading goal: 100

as always, askbox + dms are open if have any questions or would like to chat about books! you can find me on goodreads here. 🤍

♡ indicates any new favorites; ⊹ indicates a reread.

january ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

1. writers & lovers by lily king 2. the art of memory collecting: 15 scrapbook, collage, trinket and zine projects for crafting treasured moments by martina calvi 3. tom lake by ann patchett (audiobook) ♡ 4. our town by thornton wilder ⊹ 5. beloved by toni morrisson 6. promise me sunshine by cara bastone (arc) ♡

[mikimeiko]

L'amica geniale | Season 1 (2018), Saverio Costanzo

[stevethehairington]

oh my god ive just realized that show WILL is given book clarice's ending.

like, in the book hannibal clarice gets taken by hannibal and he basically brainwashed her into being his partner. and to a degree, that is what happens to will too. hannibal takes him (not a literal kidnapping in this case) and uses his influence to shape will into something entirely different than what he was (and likely entirely different than what he ever wanted to be too).

and honestly i love it so much.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Controversial opinion among Dune book fans maybe, but I loved the changes they made to Chani's character. Making her a fedaykin who is already an experienced fighter before Paul arrives was a brilliant choice. Dune Part Two is a war movie, and this puts her at the center of the action, side by side with Paul, and gives her a much more active role than she has in the book.

We got a hint of where things were going in the beginning of Dune Part One. The first thing we ever know about movie Chani is that she's a fighter. She serves as a voice for the Fremen, telling us the story of their struggle from her point of view. I wrote here about the difference this change makes compared to other adaptations of Dune, what a perspective shift it is to have the world of Arrakis introduced not by an outsider, describing it as a dangerous but valuable colonial prize, but by one of its native inhabitants, who tells us before all else that it's beautiful, her home that she's fighting to liberate. I am so, so glad that the second movie followed up on this characterization.

I never found Chani and Paul's love story in the book particularly convincing, because why would this woman, who already has a prominent and respected place in Fremen society, even give the time of day to her deposed would-be colonizer, let alone fall in love and have children with him? Without a compelling reason for Chani to love Paul, she ends up feeling like a prize to be won, and "indigenous culture personified as a woman to be wooed (or conquered) by the colonizing man" is a trope we've seen and don't need to repeat.

But as soon as you tell me it's a barricade romance I get it. Cool cool cool, I know exactly what this relationship is now and it makes sense. Movie Chani doesn't respect or even particularly like Paul when she first meets him, and she doesn't think he's the fulfillment of any prophecy. She comes to respect him, and eventually love him, through his actions. He's brave--sometimes recklessly so. He fights well. He's willing to stick his neck out on the front lines with the other Fremen fighters. He can (after a little help) hack surviving in the harsh desert environment. He's not too proud to learn from others. He seems to genuinely want to be her equal in a common political struggle. All these qualities make sense as things she values.

Fighting side by side as equals is just about the only way I can see movie Chani falling for Paul. And it fits perfectly with the film's pattern of reversals that Paul's capacity for violence would initially be one of the things Chani likes about him, only for her to be repelled later when she sees what he becomes.

And as for Paul, well, he's had people deferring to him his entire life. Someone who doesn't take any shit from him is probably refreshing. He seems to like people (Duncan, Gurney) who challenge him and engage in a little friendly teasing--and aren't afraid to go a few rounds in the sparring ring.

It's easy to speedrun a romance when you're spending all your time together in mortal danger fighting for a shared political cause. Especially if you then start winning in a war your people have been fighting for decades. Are you kidding me? That is the perfect environment for intense battle camaraderie to turn into romantic love, and lust.

It makes sense that this version of Chani never believes Paul is any kind of messiah. Of course a character like movie Chani wouldn't believe in or trust some outside savior to liberate them. She's been working to liberate her own people for years. The more Paul invokes the messianic myth, the more he starts sounding once again like someone who plans to rule over them, and the more uncomfortable Chani becomes. In this way she becomes a foil to Jessica, the two of them representing the choices Paul is pulled between. It's a great way of externalizing the political and philosophical debates that often happen within characters' heads in the book.

And of course this version of Chani would leave Paul at the end of the film. It's not just the personal, emotional betrayal--although that stings. What common cause does she have with someone who just declared himself emperor and is sending her own people off in a war of conquest against others? Given the important role she plays in Dune Messiah, I am super curious to see how they get her back into the story, but girl was so valid for being willing to just gtfo. Given that she has the last shot of the whole movie, I'm sure she'll be back somehow, and I can't wait to see what they do with her character in any future installments.

[lectern-fullcauldron]

in this world of clickbait and youtube trends i have so much respect for the hermits who just keep plugging on doing their own thing. like the integrity of Joe 'im not doing it if it doesn't match my ethics ' Hills, and Iskall 'im not putting out a video if I'm not happy making it' 85, and etho 'never in my life have I made a thumbnail' slab, and zedaph being on his own wavelength is impeccable. wels is always off doing his own thing, and that means we get hermitcraft when he is excited for hermitcraft, and that's great! beef quietly does his own thing and I love it (the team Canada stuff is a vintage feeling YouTube treat as well). Doc's videos are far longer than TikTok culture wants but that's his choice and I respect it so much. Stress is here when she wants to and when she can be and I am always so glad to see her. Mumbo makes what he wants to and I love his bouncing around minecraft building thought processes. Cub does what he wants and it's incredible. I love watching tango work on games, just as much as I love watching him figure out silly things, or run around with zed dressed as ghosts.

You can't put hermits helping hermits on a thumbnail, nor hours of mining resources for someone else. But they're what make hermitcraft brilliant. the very core of Hermitcraft to me, is in the janky tfc videos from demise where he tells people telling him how to play more like grian to get lost, and then goes to play with Cleo, who's hiding in his walls. Hermitcraft is in the laughter. In sending a friend a new computer. In knowing your friend's principles and trying to help them stick to them. In this world of clickbait and youtube trends, there is something at the core of Hermitcraft that carries the core of 2012 youtube, and I think that core is the integrity of the hermits themselves, and the respect that they show for each other and their craft

[abitcaughtinthemiddle]

Photo credit @featherbow

We need to talk about this scene. Yes, I was taken aback by the ABSOLUTE WHIPLASH of flipping from Vaxleth angst to Scanlan pain to Perc’ahlia, -ahem, being together. What a bold choice and I think it’s bloody brilliant. Here’s why.

Not only was this scene a great way to showcase the Vox Machina romantic relationship drama all at once but it also foreshadows how we find each relationship at in the current canon.

First, we have our tragic, doomed-by-the-narrative couple: Vax and Keyleth (these two always break my heart). Each sitting on the other side of the door, alone, yearning for each other - so close but so far- the tragedy of Vaxleth is that Vax will never have enough time and Keyleth will have all the time in the world. Vax, blanketed by the sun doing down, nighttime creeping in. And Keyleth in her dark bedchamber: dark, cold, and alone.

Second, we have our short but sweet Pike and Scanlan. The future divorcees. From what we I know in the current timeline (admittedly I am behind in C3), after divorcing Pike, Scanlan is out traveling Exandria with his daughter. Pike is still connected with her found family of Vox Machina (again, as far as I am aware) while Scanlan has been more transient- him being the one to walk away after their miscommunication and missed connection. The sunset, beautiful and short lived.

Finally, we have my beloved Percy and Vex. We see them together (horny little devils those two I love them), in a moment of (to put it in a less sexually explicit way) connection and passion. They’re the only ones still together: ruling Whitestone with their horde of children (they’re just practicing that bit for now- haha). Perc’ahlia is the lucky couple of these three- defying their seemingly hopeless future together, becoming stronger through each other and helping each other grow and be loved. The warm glow of the light behind them.

Anyway, I can’t stop thinking about this. Well done, just well fucking done.

[navybrat817]

Ficlet Friday?

A slightly buzzed Bucky just being the cutest or in love or both. Definitely a fluff-ficlet. Your choice on which Bucky 😉

I tried to make it fluffy, nonnie, but it does have a touch of angst. Sorry!

Pretty Girl

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: Over 700

Warnings: Tipsy Bucky, encouraging friends, slight angst

You were reading a book in the lounge when laughter rang out through the hall, a smile touching your lips. The guys decided to do a “boys' night out” and it sounded like they had a good time. Between being heroes and the trials and tribulations they all went through, they deserved it.

“Hey! Pretty girl!”

You didn't turn toward the sound of Bucky’s voice immediately as much as you wanted to. Glancing around, you were the only one in the lounge, so who was he talking to? It would mean everything for him to call you pretty, but you were just… you.

“Steeeeve. I don’t think she heard me,” Bucky loudly whispered.

“Then say it again with feeling,” Steve loudly whispered back.

“Got it.” Bucky sucked in breath which gave you enough time to cover your ears. “HEY! PRETTY GIRL!”

“Jesus Christ, I can hear you guys,” you confirmed, shutting your book. There went your quiet evening. “I guess stealth isn’t your strong suit tonight.”

You shrieked when Bucky suddenly sat beside you, casually throwing an arm over your shoulders. Okay, he was still stealthy, and he looked amazing in his jeans and henley. “There’s my pretty girl. I missed you,” he smiled.

“Um…” You looked around to find Steve, Thor, Sam, Joaquin, and Clint hovering by with expectant looks on their faces. You tried to come up with something witty, but all you said was, “What?”

Bucky chuckled, his cheeks a bit more pink than usual. “My pretty girl is adorable, isn’t she?” he said over his shoulder before looking at you with hearts in his eyes.

You leaned in to get a closer look at him, catching a small whiff of liquor mixed with his cologne. “You’re tipsy,” you said. How was that possible?

“No, I’m Bucky. And you’re pretty,” he smiled, the dreamy look still in his eyes. “Pretty eyes, pretty smile, pretty voice. Even your name’s pretty.”

As happy as you were to hear those things, even as your heart pounded, you looked to the guys for help because Bucky couldn’t be serious. “How?”

“My apologies,” Thor spoke even louder than usual. “I shared some of my Asgardian liquor with Barnes and Rogers and… Well-”

“Bucky hasn’t shut up about you,” Sam cut in, rolling his eyes. “‘My girl is the prettiest girl there is.’”

“‘Isn’t my girl brilliant? And so kind!’” Clint mocked.

“‘Her smile just lights up the room’,” Joaquin added.

“Guys, c’mon. It’s sweet,” Steve smiled before he said, “‘I’ll bet her kisses even taste pretty.’”

Heat filled your cheeks. Bucky didn’t deny a thing, so they were telling the truth, weren’t they? “But I’m not-”

The former Winter Soldier placed a hand on your cheek, drawing your attention back to him. “Don’t look at them, pretty girl. Look at me.”

You did, and it made you want to cry. Because you weren’t his girl. He was only saying these things because he was tipsy. “Okay. You had your fun, so why don’t you get some sleep?”

His smile fell away. “No,” he muttered, pulling you into his lap in the blink of an eye and putting his face in your neck. “I’m fine right here.”

His lips against your skin had you shivering, and it wasn’t possible to break from his hold. Being this close felt like a dream, but he was tipsy and you had to be the responsible one. “Um… a little help?” you asked.

“Of course.” Thor stepped forward. “Allow me.”

You smiled at the God of Thunder. “Thanks, I…” You stopped when he draped a blanket over you and Bucky. Where did that even come from? “That wasn’t what I-”

“And some water,” he smiled as Bucky nuzzled your neck with a happy moan. You tried not to let that moan turn you on. You had to be good. “Men, let us take our leave.”

“Behave, jerk,” Steve said as Thor shuffled everyone from the room.

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky snarled, nuzzling you again. The lights dimmed, too. It was almost romantic. “Not you, pretty girl. You can say whatever you want.”

You had to laugh. Laughter was better than worrying about what would happen in the morning. “So, I’m your pretty girl?”

“Yep,” he said with a smile. “All mine.”

“Okay, Sarge,” you smiled sadly. “I’m your pretty girl.”

Relaxing in his hold, you could pretend until he was sober that you were.

Love and thanks for participating in Ficlet Friday! ❤️ And this one may be fun to continue.

[dcxdpdabbles]

It's all Fun and Games Kids! Part 2

#HolidayRequests First off absolutely love your work and I'm so happy to show that by sending my support. I am not at all requesting all three just one of them. So dealer's choice. Congratulations! It's Triplets!, It's all Fun and Games Kids, or the Missing Half

Danny was buying some groceries when five armed men rushed in and demanded everyone to get on the ground. He stood by the milk, watching in fascination as the men gathered everyone near the back.

It didn't seem any of them were affiliated with big rouges, which could mean this was either a gang-related power grab or a couple of men looking for a quick buck.

They were likely taking hostages because they had messed up their big getaway and were now trying to make desperate leverage against law enforcement.

"I said get on the ground!" A man shouts behind Danny seconds before he is smacked with the butt of a gun. He hits the ground with a slight oof, but otherwise, he is okay. The same can't be said for his milk carton.

It splats in one large puddle, landing on the side and ripping a hole in the bottom corner. Hmm, that was a cheap carton. He should consider switching over to a different brand. He is then dragged to his feet and led towards a group of cowering people.

They were pushed against the vegetable bins and ordered to sit right under them so their backs were against the wood and the guards could limit their movement. It was brilliant, too, as being under the bins made it harder to see them for anyone attempting to rescue them.

Danny is shoved next to a trembling woman under the tomatoes, holding her hands against her mouth, muttering something low in Spanish. He doesn't know enough to translate what she says, but he figures it must be a prayer.

He offers her a smile. "First time?"

The look she sends him could have curdled dairy. He gives a small laugh, crossing his legs and getting comfortable. She returns to his prayers, and the two don't speak after that. Danny watches the armed men and realizes they're not new to this but aren't good at it.

These are the type of men who joined gangs for glory. The kind that would report violence at the drop of a hat and didn't care who they hurt in the process. Or worse, they enjoyed when they hurt people in the process, even if those people had nothing to do with them.

Danny frowns after a while, realizing that the men haven't looted them or emptied the cash registers. What were they after?

The store employees were all moved from the back of the store, their matching lime green uniforms an eye sore. They all wore the same horrified expressions as the group was forced to sit between the tomatoes and the onions.

The youngest one, a teenager who looked no older than eighteen, was wearing a black shirt with stripped lime lines, and Danny quickly figured out he was the manager. He was sobbing quietly, bruises on his face and around his neck indicating that the armed men had identified him as well.

Danny felt a spark of protective rage.

The manager sat beside Danny, so the Halfa scouted over, eyeing the men with the guns as he carefully slid his hand into the boy's palm. It was a testament to how scared the poor kid was when all he did was curl his fingers around his, tears rolling down his beaten face.

It made him wonder why, seeing as the other shoppers and employees did not have any indications that they had been attacked. It couldn't have been retaliation for trying to be a hero. No offense to the teenager, but he didn't strike Danny as someone brave or stupid enough to try to fight back.

If anyone, he looked more like someone who would hide in situations like these.

That's it. He realizes, watching how the men make head gestures at the manger. This isn't some off-chance hostage situation. This is a revenge plan. The kid's the target and these idiots are too low in command to realize it. No way they would have brought him out here if they did. Someone will come for him soon.

The teen had dark raven hair and the same pale skin as Danny, but his eyes were as black as coal compared to Danny's aqua blue. It might not work, but he was better equipped to handle whatever they threw at him until the bats or the police arrived.

He carefully lets go of the hand in his hold, running his fingers up the arm of the teen, keeping his eyes trained on the gunmen. He's doing it slowly, worried any sudden or fast moves will convince them to pull the triggers on their assault rifles.

The boy's breath hitches but thankfully doesn't blow their cover. The tremble in his limb has increased, and Danny wouldn't have felt bad about it had he not been on a time crunch. Eventually, his fingers brushed against the short sleeve of the manager's uniform.

"Listen carefully. You were just here to buy some groceries. You never worked here." He whispers, curling his fingers around the fabric and turning the polo shirt intangible. He pulls it right off the teenager's body in one quick swipe.

It slides off the boy's skin like water, and the second he slides it through him, Danny returns it to solid, letting it settle on top of his clothes. He quickly covers the teenager's naked chest with his own long-sleeve shirt, using the same method.

The boy's mouth drops, but he doesn't get a chance to respond before the armed men walk over to them. Danny pushes his head down, hoping to hide the bruises while hunting his own, using his hair to curtain his face.

Just in time, too, because the Halfa is yanked to his feet by two of the men, who sneer at him, and he lets the proper amount of whimpers when they backhand him and bang his head on the bin.

Danny is dragged out of the room while the third man threatens the people. He'll come back for them the second he has a chance.

"You thought you could hide in Gotham, Eric?" One of the men hisses, "After what your Daddy did? Half of my boys are rotting in cells for life because of him! "

Eric was likely in witness protection or had wronged a powerful man he shouldn't have. Maybe he was in an organized gang and had ratted someone out. There was no way Danny was letting these men get away.

They drag him towards the back, where a group of similarly dressed men and women are waiting. Glances at everything through his hair, wondering how long he had before someone realized they got the wrong person.

Maybe they wouldn't notice before they shoved him into the ain't oven; they were obviously planning on burning him in. Which would be the perfect place to shift into Phantom out of prying eyes. He had spent months chasing Batman as a regular love-stroke citizen.

He couldn't let all those dramatic swoons and pathetic flirtations go to waste by revealing he was a powerful meta now! Plus, how else would he be rescued by a hero if the man knew he could just do it himself?

He was forced to stand in the room with two guards gripping is his shoulders hard enough to bruise. Danny doesn't raise his gaze away from his shoes, so even though he knows someone is standing near the oven to give him a dramatic monologue, he won't look.

A minute passes before someone clicks their tongue.

"Nothing to say, brat!?" A kick to the back of his knees has Danny falling to his knees, gritting his teeth to stop himself from going ghost immediately. "Do you know what I'm going to-"

Whatever the man was going to say was cut off by a figure launching itself from the ceiling railing and kicking him in the back of the head.

Danny flinches as a body drops right next to him. There is a splash of blood as one of the men wails. Danny offers him a cheeky grin once the man rolls over and looks up into his face.

His wide eyes are stomped on by a dark boot surrounded by a fluttering cape, and the second pair of hands on his shoulder vanishes. Danny listens to the sound of battle, keeping his hair in his face and his eyes on his folded knees. He could get up and hide, but where would the fun be?

His favorite pass time has arrived.

"Are you alright?" The familiar voice growls, but Danny doesn't respond. It was too far away. The man needed to get closer.

Eventually, the boots and the cape returned to his line of vision, a hand slowly reaching for him, and Danny flung himself toward them. He must have caught the vigilante off guard because when Danny wrapped his arms around the legs, he did not dodge in time despite the jerk that indicated he was moving.

Dramatically, Dann wailed, still on his knees, pressing his cheek against a muscular thigh. "Batman! You saved me! I was so scard but you came to rescue me!"

A hand landed in his hair, pushing Danny away. That only made the ghost in him grin as he fought to hug the man closer. It must have been a shock to find that Danny had a lot of strength despite his young appearance.

"Thank you, Thank you, Thank you. I was so scared!" He bawls, hiccuping for good measure as he rubs his cheek against the meat of Batman's left vastus laterlis. The man must do insane squats.

"Get. Off." Batman grunts, now using both hands to try and push Danny away. It's too bad for him; Danny has super strength. "Let. Go!"

"Mr. Fenton, everything is alright! You don't have to be afraid. Please let Batman go." Spoiler shouts, appearing in Danny's line of sight. He almost breaks character to pout at her intrusion. He can't, though, as that would ruin the game. So he lets her gently pry off his arms and helps him to his feet.

He shoots Batman with looks of undying devotion, though, which might have actually made the Dark Knight shudder, and that was all he wanted in life.

"You have real bad luck, huh?" Spoiler comments, rubbing his back like a small, scared child.

"I just wanted some milk for my Oreos." He hiccups, wiping at his eye. He then ends a watery smile towards Batman, who is helping Red Robin and Robin secure the gang that had snuck into his city. "But I did get to see Tall, Dark, and Daddy, so today is not a total bust."

"I'm going to be sick," The girl in purple mutters under her breath, and Danny nearly loses it right then.

He is distracted by Eric rushing towards them, a look of hero worship on his face as he slams into Danny with a loud but sincere "Thank you!"

Phantom purrs from inside his protective core. He should shop here more often. This place is a riot.

[yesbothways]

I do not actually know how to handle how brilliant Arcane is. I had thought so much about how hard it would be to write a sex scene for Vi and Caitlyn that would fit with the excellence of the rest of the show. And the main question on my mind was like, where do you make it happen? The when was obvious to me, like right before the final battle, when everything is so heightened. But where was not. You cannot just use Caitlyn's mansion, because it means the wrong thing. This isn't a rags-to-riches for Vi where a girl who is essentially Piltover royalty falls in love with her. No. We aren't doing that. This is a ship where the extreme class difference doesn't mean anything except constant pressure to be enemies - means being caught in a cycle of violence and retribution. In this world, theirs is what a deviant and by default doomed love looks like. The class divide between topside and the undercity is the primary, structural inequality. And for them to essentially use repetition and parallel to stage that scene where Vi focuses on her one core loyalty and breaks the law to save her sister, then Jinx hits Vi in the wound and leaves her locked in the cell alone, and Vi has essentially an emotional crash over the cycle of failure and tragedy she's locked in... only to find that Caitlyn came down to get Vi and let her out of prison again. The way that communicated a crazy level of true love: I have so much recognition that I know what you're going to do when things get real and choices dire. And I love you, not in spite of this, but for this. And I am on your side no matter what is happening around us. Louder than loss or hate or revenge or duty or society. And then they just have sex right there and turn that prison cell into something completely else, unlocked and unprecedented. Nothing could be more of a clear poetic expression that their love wins in this against countless odds. Like if we weren't getting what their relationship was, if we were doubting it, if we were still thinking this story would be a tragedy piled on top of endless lesbian love stories used as the vehicle for tragedy, they just fucking said what their story was so hard it hit like a shift to another world. Punctuated by the final note of the last scene. And I genuinely fucking love them for this.

[ortegahaze]

bleeding heart

pairing: Wednesday Addams x gn!reader

synopsis: determined to impress your girlfriend, Wednesday Addams, on Halloween, you gift her a vial of your own blood. A fainting mishap turns the gesture chaotic, but Wednesday’s amused rescue reveals she might just share your dark affection.

warnings: mentions of blood and needle, fluff, humor.

a/n: happy halloween to those who celebrate! i wanted to share something themed, and what better choice than wednesday addams? i’m also close to finishing a requested katie torres story, as well as the second part of anyone but you.

word count: 1,6k

—

You’ve been dating Wednesday Addams for three intense, darkly enchanting months, and you’ve learned that choosing the right gift for her is no easy task. She finds most gifts either pointless or painfully sentimental. But it’s Halloween—the one night of the year when the world aligns with her tastes: mysterious, morbid, and a little dangerous. So, you decide it’s worth the risk.

After much thought—and far more of Enid’s “enthusiastic” help than you planned for—you settle on a gift you’re certain will impress Wednesday: a heart-shaped vial filled with a drop of your own blood. It’s unique, bold, and deeply personal. If there’s anything that might move her, it’s this.

Which is how you find yourself seated in Yoko’s dorm, nervously sweating on her sleek black couch as she holds up a butterfly needle and tourniquet. As a werewolf, you’re used to scrapes and bruises, but there’s something about needles that makes you feel faint. And with Enid’s wolfish grin and Yoko’s vampire fangs glinting in the dim light, you’re starting to question your “brilliant” idea.

“You know,” Yoko says, tightening the tourniquet around your arm with a wry smile, “most people would back out by now.”

“I’m not backing out,” you insist, though your voice wavers more than you’d like. You glance down at the tiny heart-shaped vial waiting beside you, its delicate glass ready to be filled and transformed into a pendant for Wednesday. If you can survive this needle-induced haze without fainting again, maybe Wednesday will recognize the depth of the gesture.

Enid pats your shoulder. “Think about how much Wednesday’s gonna love this! She won’t say it, but I bet she’ll be super impressed.”

“Oh, she’ll definitely be impressed,” Yoko grins. “You’re practically giving her your heart, you know?”

You laugh weakly, imagining Wednesday’s reaction, hoping she’ll see this gesture for what it is. That thought alone steadies you enough to hold out your arm. But as soon as the needle touches your skin and the blood begins to run through the tiny tube, the room starts to spin faster, and as Enid’s voice fades to a distant echo, your last thought is: Totally worth it if Wednesday approves.

When you come to, you’re lying back on Yoko’s couch with both her and Enid leaning over you, faces somewhere between amused and concerned.

“Alright,” The vampire says, holding up the half-filled vial with a smirk, “maybe you’re not exactly cut out for this.”

You groan, embarrassed. “I… I wanted it to be perfect.”

Enid pats your shoulder a little too enthusiastically. “It’s fine! We’ll just call Wednesday over. She’ll probably think it’s extra romantic that you fainted for her.”

“No way!” you protest, trying to sit up, but your head spins, and Enid gently pushes you back down.

Yoko is already tapping away on her phone. “Too late. She’s on her way to rescue her tragic, fainting puppy.”

Moments later, the door creaks open, and Wednesday steps inside, her gaze sweeping over the scene. She takes in your helpless sprawl on the couch, Yoko with the half-filled vial, and Enid’s barely-contained grin.

Her arms cross, and she raises a single eyebrow. “Would anyone care to explain?”

Yoko gestures toward you, barely hiding her amusement. “Your valiant partner here attempted the ultimate DIY tribute. We nearly lost them to their own romantic ambitions.”

Wednesday’s expression remains stoic, but there’s an unmistakable glint in her eye—a glint you can’t quite decipher, yet can’t resist either. “I see. And you thought it wise to assist them?”

Enid shrugs. “It was pretty romantic—until the fainting part.”

Ignoring Enid, Wednesday strides over and reaches down to help you up. “We’re going to your room,” she says firmly, grabbing the half-full vial and the equipment Yoko left behind.

You blush, both embarrassed and grateful. “I can walk, you know,” you mumble, though you sway a bit as you stand, and Wednesday’s hand stays firm on your arm.

Her lips quirk slightly. “Yes. You’ve demonstrated impressive physical prowess so far.”

You groan, leaning on her slightly as she leads you through the hallways, surrounded by the eerie glow of Halloween decorations. The school is draped in webs and flickering lights, shadows cast by paper bats hanging from the ceiling, and jack-o’-lanterns grinning from dark corners. Faint echoes of spooky music and the occasional laugh drift through the halls as students celebrate the holiday.

After a moment of silence, you clear your throat. “I know this was… a bit dramatic. I just thought it would be meaningful, you know? Like… giving you something uniquely personal.”

Wednesday glances up at you, her dark eyes slightly softer than usual. “There are any number of ways you could have shown that without requiring an emergency rescue.”

“I guess,” you admit, sheepish. “But it wouldn’t have been the same. You… make me want to do things that are a little foolish.”

A faint smile pulls at the corner of her mouth, though she doesn’t respond. She simply walks beside you until you reach your dorm. Once inside, she sits you down at your desk, still holding the vial and the needle. Setting the vial aside, she loops the tourniquet around your arm with practiced precision.

“If you’re still determined to finish this… gift,” she says, giving you a challenging look, “then I’ll do it myself. Unless, of course, you’d rather faint a second time.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, like I’d ever pass out with you around.”

Wednesday raises an eyebrow. “Are you certain? The track record doesn’t favor you.”

You open your mouth to argue, but your breath catches as she lifts the butterfly needle, her gaze steady and calm. Without thinking, you reach for her free hand, gripping it tightly as she begins drawing the blood.

She glances down at your hand in hers, a slight flicker of surprise in her expression. “I suppose bravery is easier when you’re clinging to someone else.”

You smirk, tightening your grip just a little. “Bravery is in short supply around needles, okay? Consider yourself lucky I’m still conscious.”

A faint, amused breath escapes her, and she continues filling the vial, her voice low as she recounts her day’s events: her latest experiments, the endless irritations of her classmates, her determination to ignore them all. You find yourself relaxing as she talks in the calm, steady way she only does when it’s just the two of you. Before long, the vial is filled, and she carefully removes the needle and tourniquet. She disappears briefly to fetch a band-aid, returning to press it gently against the tiny wound.

When she holds up the completed vial, her eyes glint with something almost… reverent. Her fingers, cool to the touch, linger over the vial, and for just a moment, she holds it up to the moonlight as if it were a priceless relic. She’s silent, but the pendant’s soft glow says what she won’t.

“You’ve successfully turned me into my parents,” she murmurs, her voice a mix of irritation and faint amusement.

You can’t help a smirk. “Do you really hate it?”

She narrows her eyes, though there’s warmth in them. “Less than I expected.”

Taking a steadying breath, you reach for the pendant. “Let me put it on you?” The question comes out quieter than you’d planned, but Wednesday doesn’t pull back; she inclines her head slightly, turning so her braids falls to one side.

You fumble only slightly with the clasp before placing the chain gently around her neck, the tiny vial resting just above her collarbone. Your fingers brush her skin as you fasten the clasp, and you feel her shiver, though her expression remains impassive, save for the faintest glint in her eyes. She holds your gaze, her usual dark intensity softened ever so slightly.

Stepping back, you can’t help the small surge of pride at seeing her wear it. “Look at that—I survived. Guess I’m ready for something far more daring. Like… a tattoo.”

She arches an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Your confidence is admirable, if poorly placed.”

“Hey, with you there to hold my hand, I could handle anything,” you say, meeting her gaze.

Her eyes soften just slightly, and she doesn’t pull her hand away. Instead, she traces her fingers over the tiny heart-shaped vial, now sealed and resting against her skin. “Then I suppose I’ll consider it my duty.”

You grin, warmth blooming in your chest. “You’re really making it hard not to faint all over again, you know that?”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t let go of your hand. “Let’s get something for you to eat,” she says, her voice quiet yet surprisingly tender.

Later that night, you and Wednesday are seated at the far end of the quad, away from the Halloween festivities echoing through the courtyard. She’s wearing the pendant, the blood-filled vial catching the moonlight as she glances over at you.

“By the way,” she says, her voice a soft murmur in the night, “if you ever think to attempt something like this again, do inform me beforehand.”

You chuckle, leaning back on the bench beside her. “Oh, you’re so eager to torture me, aren’t you?”

She meets your gaze, her lips twitching in a barely-there smile. “Precisely.”

As silence settles between you, her hand brushes against yours with quiet familiarity. Sitting together under the expansive night, fingers entwined, you realize that with Wednesday, every gesture is equal parts peril and promise—and that, you know, is exactly why it feels so right.

[vigilskeep]

hey harker! very much enjoying the lucanis/illario/general crow posting, and im gonna encourage more: now that you’ve had some time to sit with the game i was really curious to hear more about your opinion on lucanis becoming first talon. i can’t help but feel like it’s completely glossed over that lucanis is definitely going to get chewed up by this job in most save states. i have mixed feelings about it personally - but setting those aside because i’m asking about yours.

i TRULY cannot express this enough: that villa is a tomb and if we do not get him out of there we are burying him in it

lucanis does not want this job. he has straight up canonically always avoided thinking about this by assuming he would die before it becomes something he has to deal with. he reacts with paralysed disbelief to being given it and seems to have barely registered it for the rest of the game. and even if he did want it, lucanis is not capable of this job. none of his skillsets are managing people, or making ruthless calls, or watching out for himself. the only driving force behind him being pushed into this is caterina, who will not be around to do the admin and protect him from external threats forever. and she only wants him to do it in the first place because she had a good heir—his mother—and has needed to project that dead daughter onto lucanis for his whole life, to believe she hasn’t already gambled and irrevocably lost her family’s future decades ago. but lucanis’ incapacity to ever say no to her, which is what lets him stay that eternal teacher’s pet, is one of the most obvious shining examples why he would be so bad for the job!

it would be an uphill battle for anyone to recover control of an assassin house that until last week was being run by your cousin who tried to kill you. it would be an uphill battle for anyone to lead the crows in the aftermath of the antaam occupation. it would be an uphill battle for anyone to cope with the fact that relying on viago and teia—which lucanis with his resources and skills has no choice but to do here, even if he didn’t simply like them and make choices based on liking people because he is not a strategist—presents them as an alliance that any other ambitious talon must cut down to get anywhere. three out of eight of the talons is such a ludicrously dangerous number. it does not take an overwhelmingly brilliant mind to notice that there’s more of us than there are of them

the best man for the job would still be fighting for their life, and lucanis is far from the best man. caterina was! and she still lost five children and six grandchildren holding it! that’s so many! have you guys ever seen that one post about people who kept getting a new outdoor cat every time the last one got eaten by cougars and it was pointed out they were basically just feeding cats to the cougars. that’s what caterina dellamorte was doing having kids

the points in lucanis’ favour off the top of my head are the weight of the dellamorte name and reputation, that his victory over illario was decisive and public, and simply the fear factor that he is a god slayer and, lest we forget, a fucking abomination. is that enough to keep him alive? for how long? under what level of constant anxiety and moral degradation for his very soft over-caffeinated heart? all for the questionable gain of several large and empty villas and the privilege of dragging out the slow and lingering death of a family that, you guessed it, you love it, it’s the thedas favourite: has no! next! generation! heirs! at all!!!

(unless illario has a bunch of kids somewhere. i think that would be objectively pretty funny, a sentence i managed to type most of before feeling ill. oh god we need to get them out.)

i apologise that my tone here is somewhat hysterical but i have been living in the mind of my rook, a character very aware of the realities of crow politics who loves lucanis very much. it does not surprise me that lucanis was once again incapable of even conceptualising saying no to his grandmother and accepted the title, or that the idea of abandoning her legacy and his family would seem insurmountable to him when he has been raised to believe it’s all he’s for and he is the last one shouldering the weight. but i am saying this with total and absolute confidence: this is another prison and he is going to die in there if nobody gets him out.

[madamechrissy]

Ive had this idea that you’re the bride the Gojo clan chose for satoru (arranged marriage) and you both don’t know who you’re marrying and won’t know until your getting married right? So on your “last night of freedom” your friends throw a bachelorette party for you and take you out for dancing and drinks. Something you didn’t know is your future husband was having his bachelor party at the same place. Long story short you both meet (not knowing who each other are and not catching the coincidence) and spend your last night of freedom with each other (body shots, dancing, a little heavy making out). Come the next day you stare at him through your veil at the end of the aisle and can’t help but smile knowing the man who showed you what you thought was the last best night of your life was your future husband all along.

Hello love, I just adore this idea, I hope you enjoy what I came up with here!

Word Count- 2.4k - Pairing- Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader- explicit- making out, playing in public, oral sex (both receiving)

ఇ An Arranged Marriage with Gojo ఇ

The club pulsed with energy, a whirlwind of lights and pulsing beats that pound through your body, you're already warm and flushed from the writhing bodies on the dance floor and your first tequila shot. Your best friends pulled you back toward the bar, ordering rounds of colorful cocktails that sparkle in your glasses. Your best friend Shoko is trying to cheer you up, pinching your backside and making the funniest 'whooo noise'. you giggle.

"Look at this ass in this! Bend over, bride to be." You bend over and Shoko and she smacks your butt, as does your other good friend Utahime and then all your friends there. You're giggling, as the bartender winks at you.

"If you weren't the bride to be I think I'd ask for your number." He says to you, and you flush, luckily no one can see in the neon lights of the dance floor.

"See, you're hot, bitch." Utahime says, putting a shot glass right in your cleavage and grinning. Utahime's pretty, silky black locks are high in a ponytail, whereas Shoko's brunette locks were shorter, just a bit over one eye as she puts a lime in your mouth.

"Your husband is a lucky man." The bartender says now, and you sigh, not wanting to reveal the truth, that he'd probably resent you, that you all have never even met. Not once. You're from an entire other village, promised to marry the head of the Gojo clan, and you know nothing about him at all.

"He's gonna love you baby." Shoko says, puffing on a cigarette and smiling. You take a shaky breath, running your hands down your slinky silver dress, as Utahime takes a shot right from your tits. You notice then as you look to your right that there are three handsome men, looking right at you.

One has long dark hair tied back half up and in a dark green Kimono, the other sandy hair, looking sharp in a killer suit, but the third stands out, they're all tall and gorgeous, but something about him. Is it the shocking white hair or the brilliant blue eyes, that trail down your body as he smirks just a bit with pouty lips.

'look at her over there, fuck she's hot. Why do I have to get married tomorrow? What if she's a bitch, what if she's a-'

'Satoru, you have no choice. You know that. Enjoy your last night of freedom, go talk to her.' Suguru Geto says, he's set to be Gojo's best man, and he knows his friend is losing it at the thought of marrying someone arranged. He doesn't blame him one bit, the girl Gojo is looking at - You - is very beautiful, that little outfit hugging your body just right, a little tiara on your head.

'looks like she's also getting married. huh.' Nanami says then, and Satoru looks at your head, seeing the tiara and tiny veil, and then your glittering outfit and heels make sense. 'I don't know, should you really talk to her?'

Satoru sighs then, downing the contents of his sweet, fruity hurricane he ordered. 'I mean I have one night left. I won't take things too far, but maybe a kiss or... maybe lick her-'

'Gojo!' Nanami chides, but Suguru chuckles, his dark eyes glinting.

'Nah, kiss both sets of lips Satoru.' Satoru chuckles then, as he things of what is between those pretty thighs, and he grins big, his white teeth glinting, shooting his friends the peace sign.

'I'm out to have my last meal guys!'

"Fuck, is he coming over here!?" You whisper then, as this tall gorgeous man with some expensive black Gucci dress shirt stands and looks right at you. You nervously down another shot, eyes wide at your friends.

"He thinks you're hot! Fuck it babe, enjoy yourself, we have no clue how this... Gojo guy is going to be." Utahime says softly, and you shake your head.

"I can't just fuck someone night before my wedding!"

"So don't fuck, just... maybe, y'know." Shoko winks, putting her cigarette out, and you feel your pulse race as he gets closer.

"Y'know what? You all know I am too sheltered to have done much."

"That's even better, gotta do something before, yeah?" Utahime says, nudging you, and you open your mouth, but suddenly he's right next to you, towering over you and everyone in the damn club, even his tall ass friends were just a hair shorter.

He smiles down at you, then to your friends, but his focus shoots right back on your face, as he toys with the tiara a bit. "bride to be, huh?"

"Um... y-yeah." Fuck could you be anymore awkward?

"How about I buy you a drink, pretty?" You flush under his casual praise, as someone with such perfect features compliments you, and he was perfect, his straight nose, his pouty pink lips, jaw structure better than a GQ model. And fuck he smells good.

"She'd love to!" Utahime answers for you, and you panic, looking up at him, noticing his gaze had dropped to your breasts, pronounced in that pretty dress. You feel your nipples perk up, and hope he doesn't notice.

"Oooh, Mei is here! We will let you two mingle, we're gonna meet her out front and then get more drinks." Shoko says, and they leave you, these bitches leave you with this... tall ass, fine ass man. You gulp nervously as he has a seat next to you, scooching you a bar stool up.

"Last night of freedom huh?" He asks softly, and you nod, sighing and sitting where he'd just patted, as he holds up two ridiculously long fingers, fingers that make you think the lewdest things, how they'd feel inside you.

Fuck.

He orders you both several shots in different colors, like a pretty rainbow and you smile then, as he's handing you the red one first. "Bottoms up, pretty."

You down the shot, surprisingly tart, coughing just a bit, and he's chuckling at you. "hey now! Don't make fun!"

"Sorry you're just cute. Here, try this one Princess."

"Princess, aha no... just a cheap tiara here." You say with a little giggle, and he adjusts it carefully, you watch his Adam's Apple bob. He is too close, you see his collarbone, his strong neck muscles, wondering at his body.

"There, much better, all Princess like."

"You're sweet." You say, and he leans close, tilting your chin up, and you taste his sweet breath, far too close to lips that are tingling.

"Bet you taste sweet." He whispers, and you're a mess, you don't know this man you're gonna marry, but you still feel awful. Should you do this!?

"I um... so, I don't know who I'm marrying." You whisper, and he frowns a bit then, tilting his head.

"Arranged shit? Archaic." You sigh, nodding.

"It's bullshit. I don't have time to... date you, or get to know you, or anything."

"You saying you just want my body!?" He gasps, holding his hand to his chest, making you giggle again.

"Just to have fun."

"Then let's have fun." You two down one more shot each, and now he has you on that dance floor, as your hips are undulating to the beat of the flashing lights, and his big hands overtake your hips. He bends down then, turning you and lifting you like it's nothing, you giggle as your feet dangle, and you cling to him around his neck.

"You're a good dancer... fuck what's your name!"

"It's... Geto. Suguru Geto." He says (he doesn't know why he lies but it feels right- he doesn't want rumors about himself to spread)

"Oh, and I'm... Ieri Shoko." You say (You don't know why you like, but it feels right- you don't want rumors about you to spread)

"Shoko huh?"

"Suguru huh?"

Before you know it, you're making out right on that dance floor, and his hand is sliding up the small of your back, as Shoko and Utahime have begun talking to Geto and Nanami, and the four of them have put it together, watching you both with a grin. You two will definitely be happy, they all muse, as they watch their clueless, horny friends all over each other.

"Mmm, Suguru... can I call you that?" You whisper, in between his kisses, your tongues wrapping around each other hungrily, your body arching eagerly for more. He chuckles then, shaking his head.

"Call me baby boy, sounds cute." You giggle then, shaking your head up at him, then whining as his hand slips down your tummy, and he finds you hot and eager between your thighs. "Fuck you're hot, those noises... wanna kiss you all over."

"I'm so not calling you baby boy." You breathe out, then gasp when he's rubbing two long fingers over already damp lacy panties. He moans softly, eyes locking with yours.

"I'll call you Princess, you call me daddy."

"I am not!"

"Wanna bet?"

"Daddy!" You cry out weakly, as Satoru Gojo is on his knees, and you're up on this fancy sink at the club, he's flicking his tongue on your clit, two long fingers pumping into your dripping wet pussy, as you cling to his snowy white hair. His blue eyes lock, smirking against your hot little cunt now, his other hand yanking down your top, revealing a perky nipple for him to pinch.

"Already, you didn't cum yet, no... I need to find where you're... aha, there it is." He presses up then, as you feel your tummy clench, as this stranger makes you feel better than anything you've done. Your head whacks the mirror with a thud as he presses in on that spongy little spot, and you hear how wet you are in the bathroom echoing, along with the faded bass music.

"Fuck, fuck... m'close, shit!" You scream out, before trying to cover your mouth, remembering where you all are. He grins, brushing his lips on your puffy lips as he presses that spot over and over, making your vision blacken as the pressure builds.

"That's it, where you're weak... go ahead, Princess, let go, I've got you." He says, and fuck you trust this random stranger, the one who's watching you, flicking the tip of his tongue on your clit as he works you, and you're shattering, screaming into your palm, thighs trembling at how good you feel.

"Oh my god... daddy!" You whisper again, earning his grin before he nips at your clit with his teeth, then he kisses your thighs, finally letting you go, putting his fingers between your lips. "Mmm!"

"You're so fucking yummy. Fuck I wish I could taste you again." He huffs, pouting now, as your hand drops and brushes his hair back gently.

"Let me return the favor?" He groans, nodding, as you sink to your knees then.

"Oh fuck, I'm dreaming... pretty Princess sucking me off with her tiara?" He whispers, as he unzips his black jeans, and pushes down his boxers, revealing the most pretty cock you've seen. You still tremble as you start to suck him, as your cheeks hollow, your tongue lapping at his tip, eliciting a moan. "Oh- f-fuck... there, good girl, good girl."

The strangers praise just stirs you, as you stroke him with your fist gently, as you're sucking him down deeper, cheeks hollowing as you do, as you take him further, his big hands cupping your face gently, as he hits the back of your throat. You're moaning around him, as his brilliant blue eyes watch you, hungry, before he lets out a little whimper, and you feel him twitch in your mouth.

"You're too good at it... m'gonna... fuck where..."

"Cum in my mouth." You say then, and he curses, fucking your throat then, still gentle but more firm, as he presses the back of your head down, tip hitting your uvula, you breathe through your nose.

"Pretty girl... gonna cum... ready?" You nod then, whining, and he's whimpering again, this six foot plus gorgeous man, as he cums, his white brows drawn together, whispering over and over how good you are, as you swallow him down, all his cum dripping down your throat. "Fuck, fuck... open up pretty."

You open your mouth wide, showing you've swallowed him all, and he picks you up then, slamming his lips on yours, as you both taste each other, you're gripping his shirt and feeling his muscles, he's gripping your ass and feeling your curves. You tear into each other, then the door swings wide open, and you all seperate, giggling as you both run out past the onlooker.

You're both kissing over and over, and he frowns then, suddenly so serious, as it hits you both, that the most amazing encounter you've had was just that- one time. That you had to marry tomorrow, and who would he be, what would your connection be like.

"Thank you, for the best night of my life." You say softly, feeling emotions choke up, and his brilliant eyes go glassy.

"Thank you for the best night of my life." He responds, as now your friends are pulling you both in different directions, and soon you're looking out the window, thinking of all of the things coming your way, and a smile on your lips as you think you'll remember this white haired man, forever.

*****

The next morning, you're wearing your veil, as you nervously walk down the aisle, in this huge and gorgeous manor, Gojo manor. You nervously turn then, and you stop in your tracks as you see him, that man... not Suguru Geto, he lied just like you had, you notice with a small smile.

He looks a little lost at first, until he sees you, sees your body, his blue eyes shooting across the aisle, and you grin through your veil, as he smiles, eyes shooting across your body, recognizing it. Suguru shakes his shoulder with a grin, as Nanami smirks. You see Shoko and Utahime grinning on the other side in their pretty dresses as you step up, and Gojo takes your tiny hand in his big one, pressing a kiss like some Disney Prince.

"Well, you're not Shoko." He whispers, eyeing your friend. "She is, little liar."

"And you're not Geto, are you now?" He grins, shaking his head, gently taking off your veil, and exhaling, eyes drinking you in. "You look beautiful." He whispers, and you blink back emotions.

"And you look so handsome, Gojo." He smirks, so charming in his white suit, as you're in your white gown.

"Call me Satoru... or..." He leans close, whispering in your ear. "You can call me Daddy later."

Hope you enjoyed, anon ty for the request I had funnn <3

[crownedwithstars]

I was thinking of Beren and Lúthien and how their story is so much more interesting than they get credit for. I mean, on the surface it reads like a fairy tale but it also elevates the rest of the story, it uses common fairy tale tropes but turns them upside down, and the way we see the heroine asserting her agency in this story is so fascinating. I think the story of Beren and Lúthien provides much needed contrast for the rest of the Silm, and both become more poignant because of this contrast. 

The familiar fairy tale goes like this: there's a a poor but resourceful peasant, set with a difficult task (which is in fact designed to be impossible to complete), but thanks to some magical help he is successful, retrieves treasure, and as a reward he wins the king's daughter and lives happily ever after as a prince, gaining all the earthly glory one can have in this life. But in the Tale of Beren and Lúthien, the hero is a traumatised outlaw, the king's daughter IS the magical help, she is an active and equal participant in the quest for her own hand in marriage, the treasure may actually be cursed, the hero and heroine die, and the ultimate reward is not a social rise from rags to riches. Beren does not become a member of the power-wielding elite of Doriath and he and Lúthien are not promised that their second life will be happy or long. But just that chance is worth it, and by choosing it they actually change the course of history. Lúthien is offered all the bliss that is possible to have in Arda, if she will give up Beren, but she decides that the love she has for him is still more valuable. And that idea, of loving someone so much that your love shifts the world, is so compelling to me. 

And I love that the story of Beren and Lúthien is also a rendition of Orpheus and Eurydice, and that just as the world was created in the Music of the Ainur, so is Lúthien's song powerful enough to change what those original notes dictated. She changes it with hope and a song. That is so simple and yet so beautiful, in the way some of the best myths are. (Insane that this is essentially a love-letter to Edith Tolkien.)

There is this fascinating contrast between Beren and Lúthien: at the time of their first meeting, Beren has lost literally everything and his family is either dead or lost beyond retrieval. Stumbling across Lúthien, he is fresh from terrible ordeals and suffering. But Lúthien's life has been full of happiness and without care, and she has lived in a literal fairy kingdom as the most beautiful of all the Children of Ilúvatar. She could have her pick of any prince of Eldar. But here she comes across this mortal, who has nothing to give except for his love and even that only for a brief time, and she is willing to risk all she has for it. The gall and courage it takes to take such a chance! She chooses this man and her choice changes everything. 

And that is brilliant! Because Lúthien starts with so little power and agency, and she is constantly belittled or even abused by those with more power around her. She is treated as a pawn, her will is undermined and she is coerced and imprisoned to make her compliant. But Lúthien shows her determination and courage in holding fast to her choice even when it's just her and Beren against the world. In the end, she wins agency and freedom to determine her own tale. In her beginning Lúthien is a maid dancing in the woods; by the end she will have faced Satan and death itself, and changed the world forever. Truly, to call her story "Release from Bondage" is more than appropriate. How insane is this all from Beren's point of view? He has lost everything, he is an outlaw, and has nowhere to go. What is left of his family is scattered who knows where. He has nothing but the clothes on his back and nothing to give. But here is this immortal princess, and she will go to hell and back with him! She will cross the Sundering Sea to bid him farewell! She pleads with inexorable death and for her, an exception is made!  It's so on brand for Tolkien that these two achieve with their love, and precisely because they act out of love, something that others with armies behind their backs can't even imagine doing.

Yeah. It's such a good, hopeful, bittersweet tale.

[vivwritesfics]

Hey!! I love your writing so much 🫶🏻 Could you write about reader and Lando’s first time together smut? They both have experience, but they’re in love and it’s all fluffy and it would be super cute (and hot lol)

warnings: cute smut

best friends to lovers

"Fuck it."

After multiple failed relationships, they both said 'Fuck it'. Not literally, they weren't quite ready for that yet. But, after years of knowing each other, years of the both of them getting into failed relationships.

After this one, Lando was sick of seeing her cry over some asshole. So, he finally did something about it. He took her on a date.

They had a rule, no sex until the tenth date. Neither of them usually had this rule when they dated other people, but this was to protect their friendship. If anything went wrong, they were just two friends getting dinner that sometimes also kissed.

But then the tenth date rolled around. And it went well.

Lando kissed her in the hallway of his apartment building. He held her close, his touch searing. He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards his apartment.

She knew the apartment like the back of her hand. It was easy to navigate her way through, unbuttoning Lando's shirt was she went. She pushed it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He did the same with her, leaving their clothing scattered about.

It may have been Lando's apartment, but he was a lot less graceful with how he moved through it. Bumping into things on his way to the bedroom, pulling away from their kiss to hiss out a curse.

Stripped down to their underwear, they made it to the bedroom. She sat on the bed, staring up at him as he looked down at her. This was it. One more article of clothing was removed and they'd be crossing that line, no longer best friends but something more.

"Do you wanna..."

She reached back, unclasping her bra. It fell from her arms and she dropped it to the floor. Lando kissed her again, pushing her back on the bed and letting his body sit on top of hers.

They took things slow. He kissed all over her body before going anywhere near her underwear. The marks he left down her neck and chest just cemented what they already knew. That this wasn't a mistake. That this was the best choice either of them could have made.

Sex with Lando was like no other. He kissed her thigh gently, looked at her, checked in with her, before he pulled off her underwear and tossed them to the floor. Swallowing down whatever nerves he had, Lando kissed her closer to where she needed him most.

It was slow and sweet but, he was hesitating. With every move he made, he was hesitating. Every time she reaffirmed that she was comfortable, Lando hesitated. Even when he was inside of her, he hesitated.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and forced him to look at her. "Lando, you're doing amazing and your dick is brilliant," she said and kissed him. "Now rail me like you've just won a championship."

With one arm holding him up, Lando held his hand against his head and pulled it away, saluting. "Yessir," he said.

It was kind of strange, realising the person you're in love with is also your best friend. But that moment confirmed it for the both of them. There wasn't anything that could have been more perfect than that (and he really did rail her like he'd just won a championship).

[hoe4hotchner]

Hi! I've recently found your blog and first of all, let me say that you are brilliant! I read your fic about singer!reader x Hotch and I was wondering if you'd be open to write another fic/drabble about them? Like imagine it's Valkyrie's opening night of her tour for her new album, the entire team is there, and reader keeps looking/pointing at Hotch during the songs (like Taylor Swift is doing whenever Travis Kelce is there?) I just think Hotch would be so flustered it would be so cute *-*

No worries if you don't feel like writing this btw! Hope you have a great day!!

Opening night | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem singer!reader | WC: 1.1k | CW: nothing

A/N: Thank you so much! I’m glad you found my blog and hope you'll enjoy this one too! 💕

The venue buzzed with anticipation, the low hum of conversation and excited cheers weaving into a symphony of pre-show excitement from your fans. Your opener had just left the stage, almost jumping with excitement as she relayed how great the crowd had been. You loved seeing how energetic she was coming off the stage, knowing that you'd made the right choice in bringing a newer artist on tour with you, rather than the more established one your label had recommended during the planning meetings.

The stage was dark and wrapped in mystique as your crew moved around in the shadows, changing a few instruments out and moving some positions of others as they prepared the stage for you and your band.

The BAU team occupied a cluster of prime seats up on the balcony, their enthusiasm apparent in their attire and energy as they waited for you to come out.

Despite their excitement, no one matched Garcia's energy. She sat at the edge of her seat, ready to jump out of her seat, her bejeweled glasses catching the dim light. “I still can’t believe it,” she whispered for the fifth time that evening, shaking her head as if to reset her reality. “Hotch — our Hotch — is dating Valkyrie. THE Valkyrie. My favorite artist of all time. How does that even happen? What alternate dimension are we living in?” Hotch smiled quietly to himself as he listened to Garcia

“This is wild,” Morgan said, leaning back in his seat with a grin as he looked out over the stadium. “I still can’t believe we know Valkyrie. Like, know her know her.”

“She’s amazing,” JJ agreed. “This new album? Masterpiece.”

Rossi chuckled, sipping his whiskey. “I think we’re all in agreement. What about you, Aaron? Nervous to be the muse tonight?”

Hotch, seated at the edge of their group, straightened his tie and gave Rossi a glance. “I’m just here to support her,” he said simply, his tone calm, the usual stoic Hotchner tone that showed no emotion. But the slight tug at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement, a crack in his normal demeanor that didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the team.  

Garcia gasped dramatically, clutching her phone like it was a lifeline. “Oh my GOD, you’re blushing already!” she exclaimed, her fingers moving quickly to snap a picture. “This is going in the vault.”

Hotch sighed, but his smirk lingered. “Garcia put the phone away.”

“Absolutely not,” she replied, grinning as she angled for another shot. “This is for posterity, boss man. You’ll thank me later.”

Morgan leaned back in his seat, shaking his head with a laugh. “Posterity, huh? I think she just wants proof she knows someone famous by association.”

“Don’t we all?” JJ added with a grin, nudging Garcia.  

Before Hotch could muster a reply, the rest of the lights in the arena shut off, and the venue was plunged into darkness. A wave of energy rippled through the crowd, the excited murmur rising into a roar of cheers that shook the room. The stage lights remained off, the suspense growing as the audience clapped and whistled.  

Then it started — a chant, low at first but growing louder with each passing second as more and more of your fans caught onto it.  

“Valkyrie! Valkyrie! Valkyrie!”

Garcia clutched Morgan’s arm, her excitement bubbling over. “Do you hear that? That’s for her!”

Hotch leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze fixed on the stage. The chant grew louder.  

The first note of the opening song rang out, clear and strong, echoing through the venue like a call to arms. The stage erupted in light, beams of gold and white cutting through the darkness as the music built to its first crescendo. Suddenly, a platform at the center of the stage began to rise, smoke swirling around its edges.

And there you were, emerging from the floor, your silhouette framed by the blinding spotlights behind you, creating a halo-like effect that made you look angelic. The crowd’s cheers exploded into an uproar, the sheer volume rattling the balcony where the BAU team sat.

You stepped forward with effortless grace, your breathtaking costume catching every flicker of light. It shimmered with each movement, the intricate detailing making you look like a constellation. The energy you radiated was magnetic — electric — and it pulled every eye in the room to you.

Hotch’s gaze never left you, although he could sense several men in the pit staring at you with hungry looks — he couldn't lie, it made him a little jealous and perhaps even a little overprotective, wanting to jump in a hide you away.

He’d seen you perform countless times, but tonight felt different. It wasn’t just the crowd or the grandeur of the venue; it was the unmistakable pride that welled in his chest watching you command the stage as you did.  

As you launched into the second song, your voice soaring effortlessly through the lyrics, you began scanning the crowd. Your smile widened when your eyes found him. You paused for the briefest moment, microphone in hand, before pointing directly at him.  

The reaction from the audience was deafening, a mix of cheers and laughter as people tried to decipher who the gesture was for. Hotch, however, stiffened in his seat, his normally composed self giving way to a look of wide-eyed surprise.  

“Oh no, she didn’t!” Morgan barked out, laughing so hard he had to brace himself against Rossi. “Hotch! You’ve been claimed!”

“She’s bold,” JJ whispered, grinning as she nudged Garcia.  

Garcia fanned herself dramatically. “Forget Hotch — I’m in love.”

Hotch shook his head, a small, embarrassed smile playing at his lips. He tugged at his tie, adjusting it more out of habit than necessity, and kept his focus on you.  

And you didn’t stop.  

As you moved through your set, you stole moments to lock eyes with him, a sly smile or a quick glance that sent the team into fits of laughter every time. During a particularly sultry number, you sauntered across the stage, letting the lyrics drip with honey as you zeroed in on him. The crowd saw a confident performer captivating her audience — although you were sure a few fans had caught on by now, and that you'd find edits and clips from tonight on social media in the following days — Hotch only saw you teasing him mercilessly.  

By the time you reached the final song, Hotch’s usual exterior had cracked. His tie was loose, his cheeks faintly pink, and his lips tugged into an almost constant smile.  

“She’s singing to you again,” Garcia teased, leaning over to snap another picture.  

Reid tilted his head. “Well actually, she’s pointed at him approximately seven times now in this song alone. That seems statistically significant.”

“Statistically significant” Morgan repeated in a mocking tone, laughing. “Reid, it means they're whipped for each other.”

Hotch leaned back slightly, his gaze never leaving you, and shook his head. “You’re all ridiculous.”

But when you sent one last wink his way before stepping off stage before returning for the encore, even he couldn’t deny the truth.