#and while i am not saying that's the point of the show

[bandsofmarv]

Mine to keep

Bucky can no longer hold in his jealous and possessive side and finally claims you.

TW- Heavy smut, bucky angst , jealousy, possessive behaviour. Kinda long.

Side note // I’m also take requests of any character / theme.

Bucky’s blood had been boiling all night. Steve, the perfect All-American golden boy, basking in your attention, your laugh lighting up every damn corner of the bar. And Steve wasn’t even trying—he never had to. But that didn’t make it easier to watch.

Bucky’s drink sat untouched as he leaned against the bar, his jaw tight and his metal fingers twitching with restraint. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, couldn’t stop the jealousy crawling up his spine every time you smiled at Steve.

When Steve finally stepped away to grab another round, Bucky didn’t hesitate. He pushed off the bar and cut through the crowd, his determined strides carrying him straight to you.

“Hey,” you greeted, your voice light and playful.

Bucky didn’t return the smile. His eyes were dark, fixed on yours as he crowded into your space. “Having fun?” His voice was a low growl, sending a shiver down your spine.

You tilted your head, confused by the tension radiating off him. “Uh, yeah? It’s been nice to catch up with everyone. Steve’s been—”

“Yeah, Steve’s been the life of the party,” Bucky interrupted, his voice tight.

Your brow furrowed. “Are you jealous?”

Bucky’s jaw flexed. “Damn right I am.” His metal hand curled into a fist against his thigh. “Watching him make you laugh like that? Watching you light up for him? You’re mine.”

The intensity in his voice sent a bolt of heat straight through you, your stomach flipping at the raw emotion behind his words. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Bucky leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Let’s go,” he growled.

————————————————————————

The second your apartment door shut behind you, Bucky had you pinned against it. His lips crashed onto yours, hungry and demanding, his metal hand gripping your hip to hold you in place.

“You’ve been driving me insane,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and rough. “Sitting there looking so goddamn perfect, laughing at his jokes like you don’t know you belong to me.”

“I—” Your protest was cut off as he kissed you again, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to claim you. His flesh hand slid down to your thigh, hitching it around his hip to grind his hard length against you.

“You’re mine,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “Say it.”

“Yours,” you gasped, your voice trembling with need.

His lips curled into a dark smirk as he lifted you off the ground, carrying you to the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed, his hands already tugging at your clothes with a mix of urgency and reverence.

“Bucky,” you murmured, your breath hitching as his hands—both flesh and metal—explored your body, pulling away your layers one by one.

“Shh,” he whispered, pressing kisses to your bare skin as he worked. “I’ve got you. Just let me show you.”

When he finally had you naked beneath him, he sat back for a moment, his eyes raking over you with undisguised hunger. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “So fucking beautiful. All mine.”

He didn’t wait for a response. His mouth found your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point before he kissed his way down your body. His lips and tongue left a trail of fire in their wake, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you open for him.

“Bucky,” you whimpered, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

“I want to hear you,” he said, his voice dark and commanding. “I want everyone to know who’s making you feel this good.” And then his mouth was on you, his tongue sliding against your heat with practiced precision. You cried out, your hips bucking against him as he licked and sucked, his metal hand pinning you to the bed while his flesh hand teased your sensitive bundle of nerves.

The pressure built quickly, your body arching as his tongue drove you higher and higher. Just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he slipped two fingers inside you, curling them to hit that perfect spot.

“Bucky!” you gasped, your body shattering around him as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

He didn’t stop, working you through your orgasm until you were trembling beneath him. Only then did he pull back, his lips glistening as he smirked down at you.

“You’re not done yet,” he said, his voice rough with need.

He stripped off his clothes, his muscular frame glinting in the low light of the room. His cock stood hard and ready, and your mouth watered at the sight of him.

He climbed over you, his hands bracketing your face as he kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips. “Turn over,” he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You obeyed, rolling onto your stomach as he positioned himself behind you. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you up onto your knees before he slid into you with one smooth thrust.

The stretch was perfect, and you moaned loudly, your hands fisting in the sheets as he set a punishing pace.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, his metal hand sliding up your back to grip the nape of your neck. “So tight, so perfect. All mine.”

“Yours,” you gasped, the word spilling from your lips like a prayer.

He leaned down, his chest pressing against your back as he whispered in your ear. “I’ll never let you forget it.”

His thrusts grew faster, deeper, his cock hitting that perfect spot with every stroke. Your pleasure built quickly, and you felt yourself spiraling toward another release.

“Come for me,” he growled, his teeth grazing your shoulder. “Let me feel you.”

The command sent you over the edge, your body clenching around him as your second orgasm tore through you. Bucky groaned, his grip tightening on your hips as he buried himself deep inside you, his own release following moments later.

You collapsed onto the bed together, your bodies slick with sweat and your breaths coming in ragged gasps. Bucky pulled you into his arms, his lips pressing soft kisses to your temple.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less certain.

“Always,” you whispered, your heart full as you melted into his embrace.

[a-very-tired-jew]

I was just hit with the memory of one of my first encounters with a goy trying to claim they were Jewish and easily being found out, and I wonder if anyone else on jumblr has ever experienced something similar. I was at a show for a band I liked, and am friends with, years ago at a small bar. While another band was playing I was chatting with the lead singer and he was asking me about Judaism. I had to explain that I was secular and hadn't practiced in years so my input on the religious aspect wouldn't be as complete, but that it didn't make me not Jewish or any less. We got into the concept of ethnoreligion, Judaism being a closed practice, how it doesn't proselytize, the secular cultural aspects, and so on.

At this point a woman behind the bar comes up to us angrily slurring her words and says what I'm talking about is insulting and blasphemous (flag one). I ask why, and she says because she is Jewish. She claims that you can't be a secular Jew, you can only be religious and that she would know because she was extremely devout (flag two).

Huh.

So I asked why she was working on shabbat because I'd seen her taking drink orders and pouring for customers.

She got confused and asked what did I mean. What is shabbat?

I laughed and told her that you're not Jewish at all if you don't know what shabbat is, and especially not an extremely "devout" Jew if you're not keeping it.

I remember her getting angry and stomping off and trying to kick us out. The manager came over and apologized and said she was a regular who liked to cause trouble but she was allowed to stay because she jumped behind the bar and helped out when needed. I asked the manager if she was Jewish at all and she got a weird look and said no. She's Baptist, her entire family is.

Later on I found her sloppy drunk on the floor and complaining that no one wanted to take her home that night.

It was one of the most egregious fake Jew moments I've ever had that was also one of the easiest to catch.

For my own safety I won't name the band because that would actually ID me as well, and for safety sake I'm trying to keep this vague but accurate. Which sucks because they're a great band and I love them, but antisemitism being what it is, I'd rather not risk it.

[lurkingshan]

Spare Me Your Mercy is a mystery BL for grown ups and I am so excited to dig into its themes unpacking morality and ethics around palliative care and euthanasia, caretaking for terminally ill loved ones, health care in under resourced communities, and policing.

I love that rather than having a long drawn out arc around whether someone is mercy killing terminal patients in this rural town, it's already clear in episode 1 that this is exactly what's happening, and our prime suspects are all laid out clearly. We've got Dr. Kan, the one (1) doctor who manages palliative care for this entire community, his colleagues who all clearly have some degree of knowledge about what is going on here and are helping to cover, and the coroner's office, where the loyalties may or may not be mixed. Into this fray we throw our protagonist, Tew, who is returning home on a transfer that he took so that he could be with his mother in her last days, only to have her mercy killed the night before he made it home.

And this is where the tension between Tew and Kan gets really interesting. Kan clearly believes that death is a kindness for these patients who are in pain and whose families are overburdened or fully neglecting them, and he is confident to the point of arrogance when questioned about his patients. He is unwavering in his conviction that what he's doing is right. At the same time, we opened this story with Tew's grief over not getting to see his mother before she died, which presumably is because Kan killed her. Kan did that to Tew, and despite knowing he is the reason Tew is grieving not only his mother's life but also his own chance to say goodbye, he keeps needling him about it. Kan is not a nice man, and I am always wary of doctors who deem themselves the ultimate authority over other people's lives. And on the flip side of that, Tew is a cop and trying to play at bringing order to a community he abandoned and doesn't really understand anymore. He mercy killed an animal in the opening sequence, and while killing a human and killing an animal are certainly not the same, I don't think it's an accident that we've seen Tew take this action.

I expect this show will have a nuanced and thought-provoking perspective on these issues, and I am so excited to see it unfold.

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

Surprising love.

Warning ⚠️; None, just fluff for once

Pairing; Alastor/Deer!Demon!Male!Reader

Summary; To everyone's shock and surprise, Alastor introduced you as his husband after the hotel was rebuilt. Chaos follow.

~~~~~~~~~

The hotel was more beautiful and grandiose than you imagined. Well, it was true that it had been rebuilt since the attack from Adam and his Angels, maybe for the better. Your eyes admired the place, wondering if your husband had had a say in some of the ideas. Like the radio tower clearly visible.

Holding a bag of food you just made, you walked inside the hotel. The first thing you saw Charlie hunched over the desk, writing on some papers with concentration painted all over her face. Poor princess didn't even hear you approaching even with your hooves clopping on the floor. You stopped in front of the desk, an amused smile on your lips as you slowly leaned down until you were at the same height as her.

- “Excuse me, princess. May I have your attention for a second?” You asked, resulting in poor Charlie almost jumping out if her skin and screaming.

You held back a laugh as she looked at you up and down, her hand resting on her chest as she calmed herself. You stood back, standing straight as you heard footsteps running toward you. You turned your head, seeing her father and girlfriend arrive first.

- “It's alright dad, Vaggie, he just scared me. Sorry! I didn't hear you coming in.” She excused herself, her breath short and you waved your hand as if it was nothing.

- “Do not worry yourself for so little, princess. I am used to scaring people.” You chuckled. “I was just wondering if my husband was around, I got him his favourite meal.”

Jambalaya made with angel’s meat as you knew he wanted to know what they tasted like. And Jambalaya had always been one of his favorites. Naturally, you didn't tell Charlie what it was made of.

She blinked, looking at you curiously.

- “Your husband?” She asked, slightly tilting her head as you wore no ring. “Who is he? I’ll look if he is registered!”

- “Oh, he definitely is.” You laughed before hearing familiar footsteps.

You turned your head only to see Alastor coming your way. Your smile grew, toothy, as Alastor stopped and smiled as well.

- “Oh Love! You came!” He said, rushing toward you.

Everyone stood frozen, eyes round with surprise as you embraced Alastor, planting a kiss on his hair. The radio demon wrapped his arms around you, his microphone resting against your back. You plunged your gaze in his and chuckled, showing the bag of food.

- “I made your favourite. Jambalaya.” You said and you saw excitation and joy in his eyes as he snatched the bag from your hand, giving your his microphone.

- “Wait, wait, wait! You and that freak? Alastor is married?” Vaggie asked, pointing at Alastor, than you.

- “Been for almost a century, darling. Nothing new there except that Jambalaya! You made a new recipe, didn't you?” He asked, smelling the bag.

- “Made it just for you.” You said, winking at him and Alastor got it instantly.

His smile grew as he kept the bag against his chest even if all eyes were on you. You almost felt uncomfortable, but decided to ignore them. They didn't truly know Alastor and your husband had the habit of keeping you a secret for your safety. After all, as an Overlord, he had many enemies.

You weren't powerless, but if it made Alastor feel better, then you didn't mind not existing. But now that he had invited you here and weren't denying your bond, even showing physical affection, you wondered who they all were to him.

You gently replaced his hair before turning your attention toward Charlie. She almost had stars in her eyes as she looked at you two, unlike her father who seemed to still be in shock.

- “Do you think it would be possible for me to join your Hotel? Of course, I will share the same room as Alastor.” You said, tilting your head while Alastor nodded as if you had asked him.

- “O-of course! It'll be a pleasure to have you around.” Charlie said, waving at you while Alastor took your hand, pulling you away.

You laughed, allowing Alastor to do as he pleased. In the elevator, you kissed your husband on the temple and he hummed, fingers playing on the bag. You could tell he was impatient to taste it.

- “Fresh angels from the battle. I got some in the freezer if you love it, so Incan makes you more meal.” You said, twinkles in your eyes.

- “Why? Thank you! It sweet of you dearest.” Alastor replied, looking at you with a true smile as you squeezed his hand gently.

Alastor took you to his room and you both made sure the door was locked before you got comfortable. Alastor immediately went to the dining table, putting the table and getting ready to eat as you took off your coat.

You joined him as he served the both of you a generous portion of Jambalaya. You ate and made small talk, asking him how his stay was and if his wound still bothered him. Alastor was honest, pointing out how bored he had been without you and that, in fact, yes the wound on his chest still bothered him sometimes.

After dinner, you took a look at his chest, finger brushing through his fur. Alastor stood still on his chair, a bit tense as you examined the healed wound. Still a bit reddish and swollen, it had healed properly.

- “Let’s put on some cream, but I don't see any sign of infection.” You said and Alastor nodded.

He stayed shirtless after you put on some cream and bandaged on his chest. You sat together on the sofa, your arms around him while he nuzzled himself against you. You turned on the radio and just enjoyed the music, cuddling with Alastor.

You felt your husband slowly fall asleep against you and you realized that he had truly missed you. Those small domestic moments were a joy to do again. You leaned down, kissing his forehead. You chuckled when Alastor grabbed your antler and lightly shook it.

No kissing, you got it. He had gotten enough and you knew he wasn't a fan of them, unlike you. You smiled, lifting your head, forcing his arm up, which had Alastor opening his eyes as he didn't let go of your antler.

- “You are falling asleep, let's just go to bed.” You offered and Alastor agreed.

You found yourself quickly in bed, Alastor in your arms and already fast asleep. Your fingers brushed his fur, your nose buried in his hair as you took in his smell. It had been months since the last time you slept next to your spouse and you had almost lost him recently. You felt that if you closed your eyes, he would disappear before you woke up. You fought sleep as long as you could, but finally gave in after a few hours.

You woke up to someone trying to get in the room, but the door was locked. Groaning, you opened your eyes and were greeted by the sight of Alastor nuzzled fully against you. His arms were wrapped tightly around you, his head rested under your chin and his breath tickled you while his legs tangled with yours. Alastor was still deeply asleep, unbothered by the stranger trying to break into your room.

Sighing, you caressed Alastor’s face before untangling yourself from his embrace. Alastor whined and groaned before turning around in almost a ball. You smiled and pulled the blankets over him before putting on a dressing gown and going to the door.

When you opened it you got face-to-face with a spider-like sinner. The man looked at you with big surprised eyes, as if he didn't expect you to open the door.

- “May I help you?” You asked, voice a bit cold.

- “Holy shit, it's true? Alastor is actually married?”

You groaned and rolled your eyes before pinching your nose. Were you really forced out of bed for that?

- “Yes, we are married.” You sighed, leaning your shoulder against the doorframe. “And you are a nosy spider, young man, coming here so early and forcing me out of bed. So is there something I can help you with or can I go back to sleep?”

- “How is Alastor in bed?” He asked with a big smile making you grunt in disgust.

- “Sleeping and that is none of your concern.” You pointed out.

- “Oh come on! Everyone is curious about how he is sexually speaking!”

- “Alastor had no interest in it neither do I. After the time he passed around you that most be clear.” You said with a sigh, shaking your head.

- “You gotta be kidding me. No sex?” he exclaimed, almost not believing it.

- “You know sex isn't the base of a healthy relationship, right? Not everyone needs it to be happy.”

It had taken you a few moments, but you recognized the man in front of you as a pornstar, Angel Dust if your memory was good. Of course, asexuality might be an alien concept for him, but you decided to not judge him for it.

You closed the door after making it clear the conversation was over and went back to bed. Naturally, Alastor had woken up by then and sat in the bed, waiting for you. You sat by his side, shaking your head.

- “Your friend Angel Dust came to see if it was true that you were married and decided it was the perfect time to ask about our sex life.”

You laughed seeing the disgust painting itself on Alastor’s face. You took his hand and kissed his knuckles before resting your cheek against them and smiled to him.

- “I told him a healthy relationship doesn't need sex, but I think it's a concept he doesn't understand yet.” You said and Alastor shook his head before resting it on your shoulder.

- “He really woke us for that?” He asked yawning as you nuzzled your nose in his hair. “I might beat his ass later today.”

- “Hush now. He is just a kid lost and who still has a lot to learn. I highly doubt he was raised properly in a loving family.” You whispered before laying back down. Alastor did the same, resting his head on your chest as you wrapped your arms around him. “Let’s forget about your friend, I’m still tired.”

Alastor hummed in agreement and you wrapped your arms tighter around him, making sure to not hurt him. You closed your eyes and were lured to sleep by your husband’s slow breath. As you fell asleep, you also felt at home. You were back where you belonged, by Alastor’s side and he was by yours once more. Seeing how clingy he was, you knew the feeling was reciprocal and you knew he would never leave you alone again.

[akanemnon]

hi!! i just wanted to say, i LOVE your art!! i started drawing my kris design with braces after seeing dubs of your comic on yt, and when i found you on tumblr i was beyond excited to see all of it in context. i’m a comic artist as well, and i was wondering— how do you choose your color palettes ?? besides obviously picking colors from the characters themselves, that’s a given— but your comics are bright and colorful and just a real pleasure to read because they’re so visually appealing. hope this question hasn’t been asked before!!

Thank you so very much!

So I really went into your question under the cut. So feel free to proceed if that is something that interests you.

The answer is honestly not that exciting. For the characters I really only do pick colors off the original sprites. Which is why they look so bright and colorful. If you try to do that yourself, you will quickly notice how SATURATED the sprites are. And not only the sprites, but also the backgrounds.

A little trick I use is that for pre-existing backgrounds I take all the colors and brighten + desaturate them just a teeeensy tiny bit. That way the characters in the foreground pop way more.

Another way to make the colors pop even more is to use colored shading AND colored lineart! That really IS what ties everything together. Let me show you..

This is a panel without the colored shading and lineart.

And this is it again WITH all that good stuff. Quite the difference, no?

But you're asking about color palettes, so I guess you also mean for the characters/outfits I designed? A lot of it boils down to color theory. I am by NO means an expert on that subject, but when looking at the Dark World designs specifically, you will notice how I did it.

For example: Frisk's Dark World color scheme is mainly analogous. That means the colors are right next to each other on the color wheel. But there is a little bit of complimentary in there.

Here, lemme visualize it...

Frisk's color scheme is a light green, darkish blue green, light yellow and a splash of pink. The red is there mostly just for lore reasons.

One thing I noticed when looking at the sprites of all the Dark World versions is that they are EXTREMELY bright and saturated.

That is something I tried to capture as well, but I think it didn't neccessarily nail it a lot of the time. Especially for Frisk's color scheme. If I stuck closer to what the game is doing, then in theory they would look more like this (using Kris' colors as a reference)

Looking back, I WOULD tweak their colors slightly more nowadays. Just so that the contrast between the colors is a little stronger and they don't blend together as much. This improves the readability of your design. Not all people are able to perceive every color of the rainbow, so readability is EXTREMELY important. Best way to see that is by desaturating them and checking the grayscale. Like so (left is the one closer to the game's colors)

Man, this REALLY makes me wanna fix their color scheme. This has been bugging me for a while now. (Though I'm kinda afraid that people point out that they look different.)

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

I may have many issues with Countdown but I can appreciate it for a few things and that includes Jason meeting murder Batman* (Earth-51 Batman)

I mean to start Jason clearly doesn't agree with the guy. He's very not into the whole "let's kill all these guys" attitude and thinks murder batman is crazy (and outright says so) But also. He puts on the suit he's given that this Batman made, he's fights with him. He mourns him. He's upset with the death. After Batman failed him on his own earth he meets one that accepts him

And augh. They haunt me. Aughh I wish I could write I wanna write and get to see a fic about them so so bad

(do Not tell me to just write it anyway please amd thank you. auuaaoighh)

Because like! The way murder batman was SO quick to start seeing Jason as his own dead Jason and start referring to him as such.

The way murder batman never got to know about Jason's Red Hooding but AUGH. Can you just IMAGINE the moral dilemma he'd have with that??! He probably would've killed a crime lord Jason before ever learning his identity, or learning it too late. Aughhhaoujgh

They had to kill off murderbatman he wouldve been too powerful otherwise. For example I think he wouldve Not been willing to let go of this living Jason

Multiverse kidnapping story where after meeting and then leaving, murder bat finds our Jason amd just. Fucking takes him and pretends it's his Jason. Augh that'd be so fun

This page is everything ^

Theyre so so normal about eachother. I'm chewing on them like a dog with its favorite toy btw

[mixupmycota]

I think also though like most things with this fucking guy it's got a flipside to it because he's never just one thing as much as he wants too be

I think he's genuinely lonely. I think, while it's still more about him than Cole, he does have genuine concern that if Cole stays in the state he is when it gets to the breaking point, he will be exploited, bound, and similarly achingly lonely - outcast to both spirit and mortal. Something something metaphor for neurodivergence in a writing team that has a lot of neurodiverse voices and in a franchise that is obsessed with masks and masking, literal and otherwise, and that keeps building in lore around the exploitation and abuse of neurodiverse populations, including and especially in institutionalized settings.

Thinking about how the original mortal Cole, in one banter, is revealed to have been made Tranquil and the hell he went through while in one such setting. I think Solas genuinely worries about that being Cole's fate! There is compassion in Solas, there is tenderness in him, but he is very selective where he allows it to show and he does like fifteen cognitive backflips to avoid extending it to himself, which further entrenches his patterns of self-isolation and reinforces that he IS alone, that he WILL die alone, that nobody can truly relate to him.

Which I think is a reason he wipes Cole's memories. Per the wiki:

"(Solas speaking through Cole) I'm sorry, Cole, but with your gift, I fear you might see the path that I must now walk in solitude forever. This fate is mine alone. Indeed, I would not wish it on an enemy, much less someone that I once cared for. Though you reach out in compassion, I must now insist that you forget. (Cole now speaks) I'm... what were we talking about? I'm ready to help people when you are."

Triggered when approaching Cole at Skyhold after the end of the game."

I think this also is not about Cole, not really, not totally. I believe he believes what he is saying here, his own justification for taking Cole's memory away. But he can't imagine another path that Cole might take. He can only operate on the assumption that Cole will follow in his footsteps.

"that i once cared for"

This guy is doing his best to sever his earthly and otherwise attachments as much as possible so he can remain in his state of cultivated solitude, which he hates, that makes him miserable, that he is TERRIFIED of because if anyone walks with him it might happen again. He might falter, and consider changing his mind. The allure of setting down the burden he has taken on, of just living as himself, is overwhelming and horrifyingly terrible to him, I think.

His gift for snatching defeat from the jaws of victory on this is truly impressive. I am shaking him back and forth while he's all limp at maximum speed, because unlike many people in Thedas, Solas has people actively reaching for him. Actively trying to help him.

He is alone because he decides to be. He decides to be because he feels like it's dangerous if he isn't. It's dangerous if he isn't, because it would mean he isn't alone. If he isn't alone, that means he can stop. If he stops, it was all for nothing.

Which, on that. God sorry for the massive off the cuff post added on here I'm very self-conscious and feel free to ignore me but.

The emotional journey Solas goes through in the like 0.5 seconds after he turns around and sees Varric there before he shuts the fuck down is really compelling to me to think about in the context of all of this, and also in the context of the mythic, cyclic narrative of his own life and trauma and atrocities that the confrontation is re-enacting.

Varric is there. Who calls him Chuckles. Varric, who no matter how Cole's quest goes ultimately, had a major impact on that spirit of Compassion, challenged Cole to consider new ways of thinking.

I think a lot at the moment about how Solas read Varric's books - seemingly repeatedly and somewhat obsessively considering he takes at least one with him in Trespasser.

Cole talks about Varric's writing gathering the attention of spirits, about it making things real. I think about Solas telling Varric that "this story does not end with my downfall."

In saying that it's like he's asserting his own reality again in the same way he seems too in the conversations in Inquisition about Cole. He shuts down the possibility of this being anything other than a confrontation, a threat, when he speaks the words "my downfall".

Referring back to another banter with Cole:

"Cole: How do you make them calm?

Varric: Who, Kid?

Cole: Everyone. You talk and the fear fades, slipping to sleep. Not always happy, but not angry.

Varric: Most people are like cats. They either puff up to look dangerous or they crouch down and hope you don't see them. You show them you're not a victim or threat, and they're in your lap and purring before you know it.

Cole: Cats swat my feet even when no one can see me.

Varric: That explains a lot."

Solas has to do this, because otherwise he knows full well that Varric could have an effect on him, because he's done it before. But he can't permit that, because of all of the above. He literally twists the narrative when he says that, and brings it into alignment with his own belief of how the world should be.

Which is making me think things about the Fade but I won't add that onto this post which is already too much as it is.

SORRY I TALKED SO MUCH I DONT EVEN KNOW IF THIS IS COHERENT but i've been turning all of this over a lot today. Solas is consistently inconsistent in a way I find extremely compelling to chew on.

Does anyone ever think how in Inquisition Solas was probably, to some extent, envious of Cole’s journey from a spirit to a person? Of how that would explain why he was holding so viciously to his approach against Varric’s?

Because Cole wants to be a person. By contrast to Solas, no one begged Cole to leave his spirit nature behind against his own wishes;

Cole didn’t kill/mutilate anyone to gain a corporeal form either. More like he took on and continued a life that had already ended.

Does anyone ever think that Solas is unable to accept that Cole can become a person because that would mean he’d also have to confront the fact that his own actions (him and ‘his people’ gaining a body at the expense of Titans) were unjustifiable anymore?

Because... there could be another way, that’s not his, and because he could be wrong. I bet that would terrify any ancient being who’s been struggling with doing the right thing for centuries.

Or who knows, maybe I’m just rambling. Something, something I think we need to talk more about the implications of Cole becoming a person and Varric’s role in it. That quest certainly lands so differently after Veilguard.

[aerequets]

Ur art is such an inspiration and motivation for me, as a fellow artist. I’ve been following ur stuff for a bit now and I was wondering how you decided to draw loid, yor, and anya the way you do. I say this bc I really want to start making my own fan arts, but i struggle to take this anime style and have these character read as [insert character] without it being in a “anime style.”

And I guess this applies to any character you want take from a media, and translate it into your style. Bc i don’t necessarily think ur art style is considered “anime” i kinda just see it as an abstraction ig. But even if it is, it isn’t in the style of anime show is yk? Yet the characters read as who they’re supposed to be.

And I think a while back you u mentioned that you were struggling on decided how to draw loid. ig i wanna know How did you come to the decision that “yes, this looks correct and I wanna draw him like this.”

Is it finding defining feature and proportions? Just messing around until you figure something out? And I assume you make a character sheet to keep it consistent?

Like i literally go to art school but cant draw anything without a reference photo and it killing me 😔💀💀

Sorry for the yapp i’m just down bad rn and really love ur work. Please help be get out of the reference photo trap😭

Also sorry if this reads weird and has errors i’m sleep deprived and can’t bring myself to go back and reread

WHAIUGOUGH???? UR TOO KIND??? THANK U

i will try my best to answer below, but i dont think it is anything profound or super secret lmao

so i think that artists get really caught up with finding/establishing a style when they are first starting out. i say this because i was no different. to me it was like 'oh if i have a style then i am a Real artist instead of just a copier'

but like, i think that order is backwards. like the more that you draw things you enjoy, the more those drawings will become your own and in your 'style' if that makes sense. heavy emphasis on the quantity here. you just gotta go really at it. and the best way to do this is through sheer quantity tbh.

however at the same time, i dont really agree with the whole 'draw x things per day every day' thing cuz sometimes thats just hard man. i mean you mentioned you were in art school so you're probably drawing every day anyways, but for a hobbyist or fanartist (me lol) its mostly based on whether u feel like drawing or not. Which is why its rlly cool when you have a show/book/movie/anything you're really into which makes you want to draw more! it becomes something fun rather than a chore.

so basically, dont view a style as something you have to develop right away, or turn drawing into a chore, because that will be very counteractive trust me.

another important thing i wanted to mention, you said "reference photo trap" but ITS NOT A TRAP! USE REFERENCES!!! REFERENCES ARE IMPORTANT AND GOOD (i am assuming you already know this, but using references is not the same as tracing. just to make it clear)

this is another thing common with newer artists (and of course how i used to be), where you feel like you have to draw 'from your mind' for it to be an indicator of any skill. NOT TRUE!! you need to use references to get better!

lastly, to answer your question (as best i can lol) there was never any point when i decided 'yes this is it' when drawing. you just draw and draw and keep changing and growing. it is a little of everything you said (defining features, proportions, messing around) but it is also just drawing a lot and having fun! :D oh and i definitely do not have a character sheet. i am not anywhere near that organized LMAO

[trrenchertrash]

I was thinking about “I am the dirt under your nails” and first of all I don’t think it can be ignored that the title of e9 is derived from this line. Considering that, this line is evidently not meant to be a cutesy throwaway line between Cait and Vi, it has huge thematic weight and implications. If you think about the title “The Dirt Under Your Nails” in this context, it’s clear that it’s meant to refer to the fact that all of our characters have dirt under their nails. As in, their hands aren’t clean. They’ve all committed wrongs, because they’re all human, which is obviously a major theme of this season/show. The second part of this dialogue is “nothing’s gonna clean me out,” which fits with what Caitlyn says about how no amount of good deeds can undo those wrongs. This line is about accountability.

And there’s a reason why it’s Vi who says this line to Cait. The most obvious is that Caitlyn has wronged her, but it goes deeper than that. In e8, Vi asks Caitlyn who gets to decide who gets a second chance. There are multiple ways to interpret how this idea impacts the narrative. I’ve seen it said that Caitlyn allows Vi to free Jinx because in giving Jinx a second chance she also gives herself one, and that’s an important point for Caitlyn’s character, but I think Vi would’ve found a way to free Jinx no matter what. Cait just made it easy for her. What the narrative shows us is that Vi is the one who gets to decide who gets a second chance by having her decide to give one to both Jinx and Cait. I’ve seen people talk about how’s Vi’s role is that of the witness — to be the constant that observes all the change and corruption that happens around her, and to be burdened with the memory of all that has transpired. And that’s true, but there’s more to it as well. Remember this promotional poster? It has 3 different titles/captions associated with it (that I saw):

1) Horrors I’ve Seen

2) Everyone is Guilty, Vi

3) It’s Too Late to Point the Finger Now

The first one obviously reinforces Vi’s position as the witness. But the second two are about accountability. It always struck me that the second caption brings the collective guilt of our cast to Vi’s attention specifically. Now it makes sense: she is both witness and judge. The character with the “good heart,” the only one who remains largely uncorrupted/unchanged by the end. Who is motivated purely by her desire to protect while the vast majority of the characters around her are twisted by revenge and ambition. It’s absolutely intentional that she is the one who says that line.

[onepiecestarry]

A Different Kind of Pirate - Part 8

Hey guys! Sorry it's been a while, I went back to school and tbh nobody told me my second year in college or engineering would be this hard (they definitely did). But I’m making it thru! Only two more weeks T-T. But I checked on this story and saw 1.2k reads and never would’ve thought anyone would read this let alone that many of you (literally gonna cry). And I loved reading your comments. So here I am to update! I am sorry it took so long but I promise to actually finish it this time :) XOXO

Fluff, 1.7k words, lots of plot points glossed over from the manga/anime (sorry!)

Zoro x Reader

Masterlist

Part 8: A Samurai and a Florist

The next day you all convene to discuss the plan going forward. As you sit you watch Zoro making your tea, just how you like it, and coming to sit next to you, handing you your tea and placing his free arm around you. You lean into him quietly sipping on your tea while you wait for the rest of the crew. Once everyone was there Kin’emon started.

“We must go to Zou to reunite with your crew and find my friend! We will stop at Zou and continue to Wano after reuniting with everyone.” He exclaims.

The plans continue with the usual mapping and joking around. You all were not worried about getting to Zou, especially with Sanji there first to check everything out.

---- (Time skip past Zou events)

After the long process of getting to Zou, fighting, not fighting, fighting again, realizing Sanji’s gone, and finding Kin’emon’s friend was over you all realized you needed another plan.

“Alright, guys!” Nami yells at everyone sitting in a circle talking to get their attention. “Let's figure this out.” She says with a worried but determined look. “Okay we need to split up, half of us will go with Law’s crew and kin’emon and co. to Wano, and the other half will take the Sunny to Big Mom to get Sanji back, we just need to figure out who.” She explains.

“I’m going to get Sanji,” Luffy says with an unnaturally serious look on his face.

“Count me in too!” Says Brook, Chopper, Usopp, and some Minx.

“Okay, I’ll go with you guys to navigate the Sunny.

“Count me out, I ain’t savin' that shitty cook’s shitty life,” Zoro says leaning back on a tree. “And y/n is coming with me, the celestial dragons can’t get to her on Wano.” You hum in agreement at his statement.

“Alright then I think Zoro, y/n, Robin, and Frankie should go with Law, and we will all meet back up in Wano,” Nami says.

Everyone agrees and we all begin to pack to leave Zou. You become uneasy as you realize you’ll have to work with Law, nervous he’ll be upset about your last conversation. But you quickly shake it off knowing it can’t be avoided.

You get to Law’s ship with everyone else, Zoro is unusually close to you. You look up at him with a confused look as if asking ‘What’s up?’. He just nods over to Law and you nod in response, understanding he’s keeping him away from you.

Bepo showed you and the rest of the strawhats to an extra room you’d be using to sleep while traveling. As you walk in you see two small twin beds and two hammocks, four places to sleep, and five people.

Robin is already making one of the small beds for herself and Frankie and Usopp are getting comfortable in the hammock, so that leaves Zoro and you to the last twin bed. He didn’t even flinch, already on the bed getting comfortable and falling asleep. You giggle to yourself as you push him over to make room for yourself.

----

The days flew by quickly on your way to Wano, Zoro made sure that Law never came close to you, not that you were worried if he did. On the last day, you finally arrived, finding a cove to hide Law’s ship in and hiking up to a remote area to discuss your next steps.

That’s when Kin’emon revealed the reason you all were there, and how he and his friends had gotten there too. To say you were shocked was an understatement, but of course, Zoro had no reaction. You look at him dumbfounded that he's not the least bit confused or surprised.

“What? We’ve heard crazier.” He says nonchalantly.

“Have we?” You cross your arms in questioning.

“No, not at all.” He says leaning back on a rock. You giggle at his demeanor.

Your attention is taken from Zoro as Kin’emon starts to describe his plan.

“We will have all of you go undercover and spread these flyers to anyone with the crescent tattoo on their ankle. This message they will understand. Frankie, you will go undercover as a craftsman apprentice, and see if you can retrieve the blueprints of Kaido’s mansion from your boss. Robin, you will go undercover as a Geisha, your mission is to get close to the Shogun. Usopp, you will be a salesman and you will spread the flyers in the capitol. Zoro and y/n, you both will go undercover together as a samurai and flower shop owner. y/n I am putting Zoro with you to ensure he will not cause trouble as a foreign swordsman.” You giggle at Kin’emon’s comment.

“Hey! I don’t get into trouble… that often” Zoro whispers the last part. You laugh at his defense.

Kin’emon begins to hand out locations of apartments and houses we may stay at as well as stacks of flyers to hand out. Kin’emon then gives you all the clothes and hairstyles to fit in.

---

As you walk through the busy streets of the flower capital you smell all the delicious food stands nearby, watching people rush from building to building, as well as others on a casual stroll. You notice Zoro is beginning to turn in the wrong direction, so to prevent him from getting lost you grab his hand.

“I am not dealing with your directionless ass right now pretty boy, stay with me for the love of-”

“Don’t gotta ask me twice,” he says smirking down at you, making it obvious how okay he is with holding your hand.

You both continue to walk around looking for your assigned house, eventually finding it and entering. You look around at the sad wood falling apart, and the floor with torn mats.

“I guess that’ll make do.” You sigh. “Where’s the beds?” You question looking around.

“You mean bed. And probably a futon in the closet.” Zoro says looking through the cabinets in the kitchen.

You laugh at his correction of you and go to look for the futon, eventually finding it and setting it up with fresh sheets.

“Any food in there?” you yell over to Zoro.

“Nah, don’t think so,” Zoro says back.

“Alright, I guess we’ll have to go out and get some then. You sigh.

You make your way past the kitchen heading for the front door, but before you can take another step you are grabbed by your waist and twirled facing the other direction with Zoro leaning down towards your face, with a cocky smirk plastered on his face.

“Where do you think you’re going.” He says teasingly.

“To the flower shop to see what I’m dealing with, and to get some food for dinner.” You lightly hit his chest, giggling.

“Hmm, I’ll come with.” He says letting you go.

---

Once you get to your stall, you realize that it's already stocked with most things you’d need thankfully. Suddenly the woman in the stall next to you comes over to speak to you.

“Hello darling, are you both new in town?” She says sweetly looking between you and Zoro.

“Yes, we are, we just got married and decided to move to the capital from our home village,” Zoro says before you could even think of responding. Realizing what he said, your cheeks flush pink at his words.

“Aw how cute, you two make a great couple, I must say. You will make beautiful children one day I’m sure.” The older woman says innocently smiling at the two of you. You nearly choke on air at her words, but Zoro hides you behind him, thanking the woman while ushering her back to her stall.

He comes back to you stuffing your face in your kimono’s sleeves hiding your bright red face. He lets out a hard laugh, grabbing your face and moving it to look at him, only making you blush harder. You lightly slap his arms away and begin to ready your flower stall as he laughs watching you.

You both decide to return home after “borrowing” some food, as Zoro calls it. You immediately begin to prep dinner when you return, making some rice and cutting some vegetables. Zoro announces he’s going to shower, you hum in response.

Suddenly, you turned around and pressed up against the counter with Zoro’s arms on either side of you. You get flustered at his actions trying to look away. Zoro leans down and whispers in your ear, “Want to join me, wife?” He asks in a deep tone. You freeze at his offer, face flushed with pink once again. He laughs at your reaction and backs off retreating to the bathroom. You quickly return to cutting vegetables to take your mind off it.

You finished making dinner as Zoro exited the bathroom. “Hey, dinner ready, go ahead and sit down. I’ll bring you a-” You stammer as you turn to look at a freshly showered Zoro with a towel barely hanging off his hips, leaving not much to the imagination. You stare for a good few seconds before you realize he’s laughing at you.

You set the small table while he changes, making sure to give him a nice large portion. As he sits down he looks at the food you made.

“Wait is this curry?” He asks excitedly.

“Yeah, I figured it would be easy and filling.” You casually say beginning to eat.

“I fucking love curry.” He says inhaling all of his food. You laugh at him, happy to know he likes the food you made.

Once you both finished, he washed the dishes while you showered. After your shower, you sat on the edge of the futon thinking about the day, when Zoro came in and practically tackled you down onto the bed. Both of you laughing as you recovered.

He grabbed onto your waist pulling you closer as you both go to bed. “Goodnight wife.” He whispers before you hear his soft snores filling the room. You melt into his touch at the thought of how much he loves to call you that, eventually allowing yourself to get lost in the comfort of sleep. 

[princesssarisa]

I just came across a YouTube video complaining about the changes made to the musical of Wicked from the original book.

One of its main arguments is that in the musical, Glinda is too easily forgiven – both by Elphaba and by the show's narrative – for working with the Wizard, not to mention the other morally questionable things she does.

Now, I haven't read the book, or analyzed every word of the musical's script and lyrics, but I'm not sure if I agree with that claim or not.

I agree with what @cto10121 has written in the past, that maybe the musical focuses too much on Glinda when it's supposed to be Elphaba's story, but I don't think the show glosses over Glinda's flaws or bad decisions. I've always thought she was a very morally gray character who has a redemption arc in the end. And she most definitely pays a hard price for her mistakes, ending up in power but all alone on a personal level, thinking the two people she loved most are dead because of her.

But just from scrolling a little on both Tumblr and YouTube, I think the musical's fandom might idealize Glinda, whether the musical itself does or not. I don't know how widespread it is, but I've definitely felt as if the fandom idealizes her entire relationship with Elphaba, and they do leap to defend her whenever someone misguidedly calls her "the real wicked witch"... sometimes with defenses I don't buy.

Again, again, and again, I've heard people say "The message is that there are two sides to every story and no one is all good or all bad."

(Which of course is true to an extent, but which IMHO, paints false moral equivalency between Elphaba's side of the story and both Glinda's and the Wizard's.)

I've also seen "The whole point is that Elphaba starts out as the heroine while Glinda starts out as a mean girl, but Glinda becomes a better person while Elphaba becomes a worse person over the course of the story, until they become the characters we know from The Wizard of Oz. Ultimately Glinda is the more heroic one."

(That's... not quite the way I would describe their arcs.)

And, most thought-provokingly of all, I've seen this:

"Glinda deserves more respect for her intelligence. At first we're made to think she's a dumb blonde, but it turns out that she's very clever and shrewd, and her claim that a good image is what matters most in society turns out to be totally right. It's by working within the system and pleasing the Wizard and the people of Oz that Glinda gains power, which lets her oust the Wizard and Morrible in the end, while Elphaba's rebellion crashes and burns."

Even if part of the show's message is "Society values a good image more than real merit or truth," aren't we meant to view that fact as a bad thing that needs to change, rather than admiring Glinda for knowing it all along and benefitting from it?

This reminds me of commentary I've read about Amy March from Little Women. A character who has a lot in common with Glinda in some ways, though without the political aspect. I like Amy and I don't think she deserves the hate she traditionally gets from Jo fans, but some attempts to defend her annoy me. Namely the fans who praise her for conforming to society better than Jo does: i.e. "Amy is the smartest, most mature March sister because she knows how to please her social betters and make the system work in her favor – unlike Jo, whose rebellious ways get her nowhere and who needs to learn to be a proper docile lady for her own good." Again, I like Amy as a character, but as a neurodivergent feminist who relates to Jo's independence and her failure to conform, I don't like that talk.

And Amy doesn't serve a fascist regime.

I'd like to know what bigger Wicked fans than I am think of all this. Does the show absolve Glinda too much, or if not, does the fandom? Or do both the show and fandom have a more-or-less accurate view of both her flaws and her virtues?

[mintycandycrumb]

The Blatant Sexism and VA Harassment in The SAMS Fandom.

Not the first Ramble I fully wanted to make on this account, and I'm a little late to the party, but I feel this can no longer be held back as something to keep inside. I have been in the SAMS fandom now since Nexus was first born as New Moon, and in that year and a half since Moon first died I've seen this fandom take some of the lowest falls ever.

I would like to start this simply by saying to Kat (Earth's VA); that I am so sorry the fandom is treating you the way they are, and allow this message from me to at least somewhat help you know there are people in this fandom who respect you and the work you do for us. As an aspiring writer and voice actor myself, you and the rest of the crew are inspiring, and I'm sorry the fandom has thrown so much hate at you for no reason.

To everyone who has been harassing Kat or any other VA; You suck. Plain and simple. These VAs create, write, portray and produce free daily content for you, and you feel entitled to 'good' writing when none of them are professional writers who HAVE to give it to you. These are people with their own lives, and creators do not owe their audience anything, and they are in every right to take it away from us if they feel necessary.

I do have my own issues with the writing at times, but I can look at TSBS for what it is, a simple online show that will have its flaws, plotholes, mistakes, and 'bad' episodes. But it's a show I still love regardless, for the characters and their stories, not the overarching plot. No writing is perfect and the VAs are not professional writers, those who expect movie-quality writing in these shows are not seeing it for what it is

And finally, the blatant hatred towards the female characters in TSBS. Earth, Roxy, Nebula, Pollux, Puppet, Ballora, I've seen so much despisal for these characters for seemingly no reason, and I myself admit I enjoy most villains over them, but that is my own personal love for Villains and NOT a dislike for these characters. They are just as well written as others, flaws and all, as it makes them more human. I will mostly be touching on Earth as she is my biggest point of anger here.

Earth is ALLOWED to be selfish for once in her life, it is not something to demonize her for while you woobify Lunar, someone who has outright admitted he is selfish and by that logic should face the same hatred. Earth is a sweetheart who wants to see the good in people, even those others demonize, like Eclipse, but for some reason, she is despised when she finally wants to do something for herself.

Earth currently is living with chronic pain due to Lunar's rage and selfish (though justifiable) hatred towards Eclipse, and she currently is confused about whether she should forgive him or not, that's good writing, not something to hate her for. The female characters of TSBS are written to be realistic and more human, they are not your punching bags just because you don't like them for some reason.

If you demonize the female characters, yet woobify the villains and claim they can do not wrong, you suck. I admit once again, some of my favorite characters are the deplorable villains (Nexus, Ruin, BloodMoon, etc), but that does not mean I will say they did nothing, they are horrible people but I love them for it. And I love Earth, and the other female characters, for their flaws and the mistakes they make.

In short: Leave the VAs alone, creators owe you nothing, the female characters are flawed and that's okay, you are allowed to like villains despite their deplorable actions, and I hope for the sake of everyone working on these shows our fandom gets better. All of this coming from the perspective of an aspiring VA, Writer, and a woman. Do, Better.

[blus-witchy-blog]

Just bringing my two-cents in because i know folks who are into both shows; if you like masm, that's totally fine and i get why you would enjoy the show. but from everything i've read about how moon is portrayed, i can say i am not going to be a fan of this show. [and im def blocking the tags now, no matter how good some of the fan art i've seen is] if moon finally redeems himself [and if its actually written good and acknowledges how fucked up moons been], then ok i'll give the creators a couple points for that; but right now, moon is an absolute creep-and i despise how they've butchered his character. i know there's not a ton of moons personality show in the games, but i can confidently say he'd never doing anything like masm moon. now onto the topic of the love potion, i agree with everything above. while the creators made sure that all other characters knew how messed up this was for moon to do, this kind of content should NOT be in a series that's mostly [from what i've gathered] targeted towards the younger dca fans. or at the very least, has a large amount of child fans.

i was exposed to disturbing/creepy content like that before the nsfw-ban on tumblr, and it legit scarred me. i know that the show probably did this in far more of a lighthearted sort of way, but that can be the gateway to kids getting too curious. that happened to me. i saw slightly less and less innocent content in a fandom i used to be really into, got too curious, and was them bombarded with absolutely disturbing and disgusting content.

while yes, content like this can be portrayed in a well written way [and dark content like this can and should be ok to write, if done correctly], it should not be in something that so many kids watch! the non-consensual love potion combined with moons really creepy personality; kids are going to look at fan art and read fan fics portraying this, and it will lead them down rabbit holes that no kid should go down.

i know i'm talking about an absolute worst case scenario here-but it is a legit concern of mine.

and to my friends who enjoy the show, please don't take this as me attacking you in any way! please, enjoy the masm show if you truly enjoy it; but i hope you take my concerns seriously.

Cross posting from bluesky, adding more to my thought process as well since I'm kinda limited over there

I'm not a tsams artist and I never will be, I also don't like expressing opinions like this online But yall are cheering this on??? It's essentially assault, i already see ppl romanticizing it. As a long time sun/moon shipper im discomforted

And no hate to my loyal tsams followers, its not like YOU GUYS are the ones who wrote the scene. But assault isn't CUTE moon essentially drugged him and then kissed him?? And love potions are a reoccurring theme apparently?? You guys scare me, seeing my otp portrayed like this feels wrong.

There's a lot of themes from masm tsams etc all the spinoffs that I'm never going to be comfortable with, thats a me thing, but I feel the right to criticize something just this once goddamnit. Anyways im gonna go back to being quiet, like I said I'm not one to express things in public especially because i *have* seen people who go overboard with it and hurt others, but I also wanna be able to say I'm kind of disappointed and grossed out

[callistocalavarni]

Shifting and using LOA with OCD

I feel like it's important to talk about how harmful it can be to ignore this subject. So if you have ocd or anxiety and still want to shift or use loa this post is for you. I want to stress that it is ok to worry about intrusive thoughts. Just because you dwell on an obssesion does not mean its going to manifest. However, I still feel the need to share ways you can prevent your intrusive thoughts from making you stress while shifting and using loa. First we need to fully know what we are dealing with and then how to fix the issue.

If you are not aware, OCD has four stages:

Obssesion - Unwanted, intrusive, and distressing thoughts, images or urges. (sometimes these thoughts are not clear and can just feel like impending doom without reason.) These intrusions are unwanted and are sent from your areas of your brain including the prefrontal cortex (orbitofrontal and anterior cingulate cortexes), basal ganglia, and thalamus. !!!

Anxiety - Intense fear and discomfort triggered by the obssesions. Dwelling on the thought, worring that you are a bad person by thinking a certian thing ( you are not ) or stressing that the intrusive thought will happen.

Compulsion - Repetitive behaviors or mental rituals performed to reduce the anxiety caused from these thoughts. ex; counting in your head, doing something untill it feels "even", washing your hands a certian amount of times, or even yelling and shunning the thought out of your head.

Temporary relief - The compulsions provide temporary relief from the anxiety, reinforcing the cycle. Once you do your compulsion it tricks your mind into thinking that these obssesions pose a real danger, and that compulsions are necessary in order to be safe. (these are what we want to stop so we can break the cycle.) And yes, telling the thought to go away and cursing at it is also a compulsion.

I'm going to start this of by saying, compulsions are bad. Please try not to give into them. I know it's hard at first and you will feel scared and uncomfortable but thats the point. You have to undo the cycle to build a new one. Compulsions give the intrusive thoughts meaning. We don't want this. If you give the thought meaning or show feelings to it your brain is going to think its important therefore it will keep sending you the thought. There is two ways to stop this, Ignore the thought, or decunsruct the thought (aka ERP.)

Ignoring the thought can go like this: Label the thought as intrusive but do not add emotion to it. But also don't push it away Ex; "This is an intrustive thought, I am going to think about something else now." If the thought becomes overwhelming and you can't get away from it, start manually breathing. This will distract your brain. We want to act like the thought is like any other thought you would have. The avarge human has about 60,000 thoughts a day. Do we remeber all of these? Of course not. This is because we dont attach any emotion or dwell on them. It's kind of ironic because this method is basically using loa. If we act like the thought is usless and not important it will become just that and our brain will stop sending us the thought.

Decunstructing the thought or exposing and response prevention (erp) can be a little more difficult. The goal here is to overcome the fear and expose our selves to the intrusive thoughts completely. I know it sounds scary but remeber if you have no intention of manifesting said thought then it simply won't manifest. (an intrusive thought saying you have intention does not count don't worry) I also use this to re script traumatic events or nightmares. Imagery rescripting is what I am going to call this method of moving away from your intrusive thoughts. Imagery Rescripting is a technique that is often used in therapy to deal with upsetting or significant images that occupy our mind and play a part in keeping our anxiety going. The problematic images that people often struggle with can be memories of the past, nightmares, or intrusive thoughts. You have probably noticed that with all of your intrusive thoughts or images, the common response is to try to avoid the image, to push it away, to shun it out of our minds. This is a very understandable reaction, unfortunately avoiding these thoughts and using a compulsion usually makes it worse. It makes us very fearful of the thought itself, giving the intrusive thoughts power over you, and therefore the thought becomes something more than a "just a thought." By rescripting you are no longer avoiding them. Instead you are actively approaching them. You run the full image/thought in your head and then re write it. You can do this however you want. Rescripting it can range from complete fantasy or staying in the guidelines of this reality. Ex; Inflating the image and adding different hues to it. Making the scary thing in the image look silly; this takes away power from it. Do you want Hatsune Miku to start e dancing on your fears? She totally can! Adding a comfort character or a s/o to the image and letting them change it for you/comfort you can also work. If it is just a thought I would try and see the full sentence of said thought and then change the letters in your head to make it say something else. Or you can make the letters change into silly little characters..make them dance! Important note - You have to first deal with the intrusive thought/image. You cannot skip over this part or else it will just be a compulsion. If it is to triggring have someone else in the room while you do it so they can wake you up from the visualization and help you ground yourself. I would only do this method if you know for a fact that you are ready to face your intrusive thoughts head on.

Crying or experiencing hard emotions while doing ERP is normal. Though, I did this alone, I would recommend someone you trust is there while you are doing it so if things get too overwhelming they can help you. I as well have ocd so most of this is from my personal experience.

If you have any questions about this my asks are open. :)

<3

[silverynight]

Tempting

Viktor gets startled when he hears rushed footsteps in the hallway, he doesn't even have the opportunity to turn around before someone runs inside and puts his broad arms around him. There's only one person who likes to do that, so Viktor relaxes immediately.

"I thought you were going to be back next month."

"I missed you, Viktor," Jayce whispers in his ear, instead of answering the question.

He tries to turn around on his seat to face him, but his partner refuses to let go of him.

"Jayce, let me see you." Viktor has learned that he responds better to words. Even thought he's not used to tell or ask people what he wants from them, this is the only thing that seems to work with his friend.

Jayce finally steps back, albeit reluctantly, so Viktor can turn around and see him. It looks like he came straight to the lab as soon as the ship arrived because he's tired, hungry, hasn't rested properly in days and it's written all over his face.

But there's something different about him. Before he can think about what he's going to do, Viktor's hands cup Jayce's face; he starts stroking the other man's beard with his thumbs. He's not sure why, but he finds the sensation pleasant and soothing.

It doesn't occur to him that what he's doing might be weird until he notices that Jayce is slightly bent towards him, but completely still. He looks like he's in shock.

"You're touching me," he blurts out, still surprised.

"I am," Viktor says back, realizing just then that he had never initiated physical contact with Jayce, in fact, he has never touched him on his own before. "I'm sorry."

Before he can take his hands off his friend's face, the other man grabs them and presses them a bit harder against his cheeks.

"No, it's fine!" Jayce assures him, looking a bit desperate for a moment. "You can touch me as much as you want."

"Thank you, but we can't stay like this all day."

"Why not?"

Viktor chuckles at that, noticing that he's in a good mood now; he was feeling down last week and he's beginning to think it was because Jayce wasn't at his side.

"I have a lot of things I need to show you," he says instead, trying not to smile when he notices Jayce's pout.

"So you like it?"

"What?"

"The beard."

"Yes, I think you look good with it," he says absentmindedly, turning around to check his notes again.

It never occurs to him, even as a few days pass, that Jayce's choice of keeping the beard might have something to do with him.

Because it doesn't make sense.

But he does notice that he touches Jayce often now, especially when he leans over Viktor's shoulder to comment on something they're working on, and his face is right next to his. It's really easy to lift his hand and place it on his cheek and stroke his chin just to feel the facial hair there so Viktor does that; it quickly turns into a habit that he does without thinking.

Jayce doesn't seem to mind, in fact, he looks a lot pleased with himself now. Viktor is not sure why he's so smug about something like that.

However, after a while, Jayce starts getting strange ideas.

"You should kiss me."

Viktor drops the screwdriver in his hand before turning around to face his friend.

"What?"

"To feel this against your face," Jayce says, pointing at his beard. "Aren't you curious?"

"I wasn't..." But now he is, unfortunately. "I don't see why kissing you would be the best way to try that."

"It is, trust me," Jayce assures him, leaning dangerously close to him.

Even though the mere thought of his partner being attracted to him is ridiculous, the excuse he just used is so stupid that Viktor has no other choice but to consider the first option.

It's a difficult choice; this will probably change everything between them, and they have to keep working together.

But Viktor's rational inner voice is not that loud that particular night; the temptation to feel Jayce's face against his is stronger than anything else.

Without a warning, Viktor gives him a quick kiss on the lips, the rough sensation of the beard against his smooth skin makes him giggle.

"Well, that was–"

"Not enough," Jayce cuts him off before pulling him into his arms to give him a proper kiss.

The idea of Jayce liking him makes so much sense now that Viktor can feel his partner's hungry lips moving against his.

But he's not going to complain about that.

At some point, they have to breathe, but Jayce decides to press more kisses against his jaw and neck. The beard rubbing on his skin sends shivers down his spine each time.

"Let's go to my room," he almost growls, desperate. "Come on, Viktor."

"Wait... we should think about this first. We have a project together."

"It's okay, Viktor," Jayce cups his face before pressing their foreheads together. "We can be life partners too. We'll make it work. Trust me."

Viktor does. He has always trusted him.

"Alright. Let's give this life partnership a try."

[ikkyfics]

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader 

Summary: Peter stays by your side, bringing comfort, teasing, and a love that feels like home 

Warnings: fluffy, light teasing, emotional comfort, mild suggestive language, established relationship, hurt&comfort 

A/N: This was my first request and I was so excited! I hope you like it (and damn, I'm head over heels in love with it) 

Materlist

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It was hard to explain how someone like Peter had become the most important person in your life. He was a force of nature: fast, unpredictable, and impossible to ignore. From the day you met, he had never seemed afraid of you. 

No, in fact, he found your power fascinating. It was strange, honestly, especially after spending years surrounded by people who feared to hear your voice. Your parents always suspected, but it wasn’t until your ninth birthday, when you showed up with a brand-new BMW in front of the house – just a simple request and the salesman himself drove the car over – that they knew their little girl was not like the other kids. 

“You have a voice that can make anyone do whatever you want? What kind of comic book villain are you?” he teased at your first meeting, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he leaned in closer, his dark eyes shining with curiosity. 

“I’m not a villain, Peter,” you replied, crossing your arms in mock indignation. 

“Oh, sure, Miss ‘do as I say.’ And I’m Captain America.” He shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “If it were me, I’d make people bring me food all the time. Or let me win at Pong.” 

“You don’t even need help with that, cheater.” 

He laughed, tilting his head to the side as if about to respond, but instead, just looked at you for a few seconds. “I think that’s what I like about you,” he said suddenly, the tone surprisingly serious. “You stand up to me. It’s cool.” 

You tried to hide the heat rising to your cheeks, but something in that moment stayed with you. Peter never looked at you like someone dangerous or different. To him, you were just… you. 

And he never changed. 

The years passed, and Peter continued to be the same boy who was impossible to keep up with. He spoke too fast, thoughts racing faster than his words, and loved to tease you. 

“Are you really going to pretend you didn’t hear me?” he said, leaning against the doorframe, holding a Twinkie like it was a prize. “I know you’re in there. I’m going to count to three… One… Two—” 

“Peter, if you annoy me, I swear I’ll make you leave here singing Abba in the square.” You hoped your voice sounded like a real threat, even though a smile fought to spread across your face. 

“Oh, the power of the magic voice.” He rolled his eyes, taking an exaggerated bite of the sweet, cream smearing across his lips. “I knew I should’ve brought earplugs. What an amateur I am.” 

And you just laughed, shaking your head as he kept talking, always jumping from one thought to the next without pause. 

Your friendship was like that: full of teasing, laughter, and an intimacy that felt natural. It was easy to be with Peter, easy to forget the complicated world outside when he was by your side. 

On that particular night, in the basement of his mother’s house, you realized just how much he meant to you. You had spent hours together, surrounded by old pillows and wrapped in the soundtrack Peter insisted was “essential to understand the decade.” 

“You have to admit, Bowie is a genius,” he said, pointing at the tape player like it was a work of art. 

“I admit he’s good,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “But not as good as Queen.” 

“What?” Peter placed a hand on his heart, pretending to be offended. “Take that back now, or I’ll be forced to challenge you to a Pong duel!” 

“You always want Pong,” you muttered, but the challenge in his eyes made you laugh. 

You spent what felt like hours playing and arguing about bands while sharing the almost endless supply of sweets he always hid. After a lot of laughter and sugar, you both fell asleep side by side in the middle of the mess. 

You woke up first, senses still numb. It took a moment to realize where you were, who you were with. Peter’s arms were wrapped tightly around you, holding you close to his chest. His breath tickled the top of your head, and you could feel each rise and fall as he inhaled and exhaled. It was a feeling... good. Being held so tightly by him. You sighed, pressing your face into the curve of his neck. There was something there, a scent mixed with the warmth of his skin, that made your heart race. 

Without realizing it, you gently pressed your nose to the soft flesh, letting his scent fill your lungs. The skin felt so soft, so smooth. What would it feel like to slide your lips across it? The thought triggered an alert in your mind. Friends didn’t think these things. 

“Hmm… you’re smelling my neck now?” he murmured, his voice still rough with sleep sending shivers down your spine, making you feel even guiltier. 

You pulled back as if you’d been shocked. “I… No!” 

He opened one eye, the familiar glint of teasing starting to show. “Of course not. Didn’t notice a thing.” 

You huffed, pushing his shoulder, determined to put some distance between you. “Stop, Peter.” 

He laughed, but you felt the heat in your face as you looked away. Because, at that moment, you realized something you had been trying to ignore: you were in love with your best friend. Was there a greater tragedy? 

And that thought stayed with you ever since, buried too deep for him to notice. Because, deep down, you knew Peter had always been the kind of person who could pull a smile out of you, even on your worst days.    (...) 

The week had been a real nightmare. 

Since Monday, obligations seemed to pile up like an avalanche. Exhausting training sessions with the team, a particularly complicated mission involving a hostage rescue at an enemy base, and the weight of final college exams. Even your powers weren’t much help—quite the opposite. Convincing someone to cooperate with your siren voice required extreme mental control, and using it during the mission only added to the emotional exhaustion you were already carrying. 

“You’ve got this, Siren’s Tear,” Kurt joked, trying to lighten the mood as he adjusted the communicator. 

You smiled at him, but the smile didn’t reach your eyes. Siren’s Tear. It was a nickname Peter had made up, a mix of joke and admiration that had spread among the X-Men. Normally, it made you smile. But this week, it felt like an extra weight. 

The mission had been chaos. Explosions, confrontations, and life-or-death decisions in a matter of seconds. Even with Kurt’s teleportation and Ororo’s storm control, the enemies were better prepared than expected. You found yourself cornered more than once, forcing your voice to a dangerous limit to make guards lower their weapons. When it was all over, you could barely stand. 

And yet, there was the rest of the week waiting for you: piled-up studying, reports for Professor Xavier, and a persistent feeling of inadequacy that whispered you never did enough. 

When Saturday finally arrived, your body and mind were at their breaking point. All you wanted was a moment of peace, a break from missions, responsibilities, and any reminder of how difficult it was to balance the two lives you led. 

It was in this state that Peter showed up. 

You barely had time to process his entrance, as he appeared the way he always did—unannounced, without ceremony, with that playful smile plastered across his face. He held a bag of Twinkies in his right hand and a copy of Space Invaders in the left, as if there was no chance in the world you wouldn’t want to spend the next few hours with him. 

“Hey, Siren’s Tear, missed you,” he said, completely ignoring the pitiful state you were in. He threw the bag of snacks on the sofa and started rummaging through the stuff on the table, talking so fast you could barely keep up. “I thought maybe we could relax a bit. I know you’ve had a crazy week, but guess who got the highest score at the arcade? Me. Of course, it was me. And I thought—” 

“Peter…” you started, your voice hoarse from the repeated use of your power over the past few days. The pressure in your head was so intense you could almost imagine it exploding. 

“—that maybe you could try to beat my record. But good luck, because I’m unstoppable. Seriously, they should rename the game ‘Peter’s Challenge’. What do you think?” 

“Peter, stop.” You looked at him with no trace of humor. 

He finally looked at you, confused, but with that smile still there, as if he couldn’t imagine that you weren’t on the same wavelength as him. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, tilting his head, his dark eyes like coal examining you from head to toe. “You look like you could use a Twinkie. Or two.” 

You closed your eyes, trying to take a deep breath, but fatigue and irritation finally broke through your self-control. 

“I don’t need Twinkies, Peter!” you exploded, your voice louder than ever. “I need a minute of peace! Just one minute, without you talking nonstop, without you messing everything up, without you… Without you annoying me! Can you just disappear for a while?!” 

The room fell into absolute silence. Both surprised, not knowing how to react. You had never shouted at him, not really. The weight of your words made your shoulders sink, a bitter taste in your mouth. 

His eyes were wide, surprised, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Peter Maximoff, the boy who never stopped talking, was speechless. 

You realized the gravity of what you’d said in the same instant, but before you could try to fix it, he took a step back, the usual smile replaced by something much sadder and more vulnerable. You had never seen him look so sad. Regret made your stomach burn. 

“Wow,” he murmured, his voice low and hesitant, fingers fidgeting nervously. “I… didn’t know you could be influential without your powers.” He commented, his voice dry and brittle. 

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but he raised a hand, as if asking you to stop. 

“It's okay,” he said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll do what you want. I’ll disappear.” 

“Peter, don’t—” He disappeared long before you could finish your sentence. 

The characteristic sound of his speed faded as quickly as he did, leaving only a heavy silence behind. 

You stood there, frozen in the middle of the room, your hand still extended in the air, the words you wanted to say stuck in your throat. An overwhelming wave of guilt washed over you, along with the emptiness left by him. Tears came before you could stop them, flowing hot and silent as you collapsed onto the bed. 

Why did you have to explode at him? Why did you have to hurt the one person who always made a point of being by your side, even when you didn’t want to be? 

You knew Peter had good intentions. He always had. He just didn’t know how to show them the right way. 

But now, he was hurt. 

And for the first time, you felt completely alone. 

(...) 

Three days. 

Three days without a sign of Peter. 

The Xavier mansion, always so full of life, felt suffocating now. You could barely look at the familiar faces around you without feeling a tightness in your chest. Everything seemed darker, slower, as if the world were mirroring the whirlwind inside you. 

The others noticed, of course. 

“Are you okay?” Jean asked, her voice soft as she touched your shoulder. You just shook your head, unable to respond. There were no words for the weight of regret you felt. 

Even Logan, always so distant, paused as he walked past you in the hallway and gave you a concerned look. “If you need anything, anything at all, let me know,” he said, his voice low and serious. 

But nothing helped. 

You barely ate, barely slept. When you closed your eyes, all you saw was Peter’s face, the sad smile he tried to hide before disappearing. 

“I’ll do what you want. I’ll disappear.” 

His words echoed in your mind like a curse, a constant reminder that you had done what you never thought was possible: pushed Peter Maximoff away. 

He had always been there. From the first moment, when you arrived at the mansion nervous and lost, he was the first to break the ice. You were startled by his repeated closeness. One moment you were alone, and the next he was right in front of you, all silver hair and easy smiles. 

“So, what’s your power?” He leaned in, eyes narrowed as he looked at you with interest. “Can you make people give you free pizza? Because that would be impressive.” 

It was a silly question, of course, but the way he said it—with that crooked smile and energy that was impossible to ignore—made you laugh for the first time in weeks. 

And from then on, he had been a constant in your life. 

You played Space Invaders until your hands hurt, stole treats from the kitchen on midnight missions, and spent hours in his basement (his mother’s) listening to records of bands he insisted were the best in the world. You knew he had tough moments, but he never let it show. He masked the pain with jokes and speed, and you loved him for it—the lightness he brought to your chaotic world. 

Now, his absence felt like a hole in your chest. 

On the third day, you were sitting on the living room sofa, staring at a book you hadn’t managed to get past the first paragraph, when you heard Kurt and Ororo talking in the distance. A draft of air carried his words to you. 

“Peter didn’t show up for training again today,” Kurt said, his voice full of concern. “This isn’t like him.” 

“He didn’t come to breakfast either,” Ororo replied. “Do you think he’s okay?” 

Your heart sank the moment their words reached you. It was as if the world had stopped, leaving only the deafening sound of guilt pounding in your ears. 

Peter wasn’t okay. 

You knew that. 

Rising, you left the room without saying a word, ignoring the curious looks from the others. Each step felt heavier than the last, but you knew what you needed to do. 

Deep down, you already knew where to find him. 

The Maximoff house had a peculiar charm that always made you smile. A mix of the '70s, nostalgia, and controlled chaos that perfectly suited Peter. But today, as you climbed the steps to the porch, your heart was too heavy to be swayed by the usual sense of comfort. 

At the door, holding the stack of sweets and the pizza box—the favorite of both of you, with extra pepperoni and that crispy crust Peter always called “a gift from the gods”—you took a deep breath before knocking. 

Mrs. Maximoff opened the door almost immediately, with her warm smile and curious eyes. “Oh, dear! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug. 

“Hi, Mrs. Maximoff,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. 

She stepped back, holding your face for a moment. “You look... tired. Are you okay?” 

“Yes, I’m fine. Actually, I came to see Peter.” 

Her expression softened, but her eyes shone with a touch of concern. “He’s in the basement. He spends most of his time down there lately.” She hesitated before adding, “He misses you, you know? And so do I. You bring good energy to this house.” 

Her words were simple, but they hit hard. You gave a small, shy smile and a “Thank you,” before heading down to the basement, your heart pounding too fast in your chest. 

As you descended the steps, a familiar soundtrack began to fill the space: the sound of an intense pinball game, interspersed with muffled music from a nearby radio. 

Peter was in his element. 

The first thing you noticed was the speed. He darted back and forth across the basement in a typical frenzy, alternating between playing the arcade game, taking bites of a Twinkie, and making quick adjustments to the stack of vinyl records by the old record player. 

For a moment, he passed by too quickly, the movement so fast it looked like a silver blur. But even so, he paused long enough to take a good look at you. He noticed the dark circles under your eyes, the tired expression, and, most of all, the look of regret that seemed to weigh on you like a second skin. And, of course, you still looked beautiful as always, in one of those summer dresses that left your shoulders and collarbone on full display. God, he loved those dresses, and loved seeing you wearing them even more. 

Peter went back to the arcade as if nothing had happened, but his game slowed down a bit, the movements less precise. It was enough for you to catch up. 

He looked the same as always, but completely different. There was a crease between his eyebrows, his hair was tousled, and he looked disheveled. 

You set the pizza and sweets on a makeshift table full of empty wrappers and called out, your voice wavering, “Peter, can we talk?” 

He stopped pressing the buttons but didn’t turn around right away. For a moment, he stood there, his shoulders rigid, before straightening and turning to face you. “Sure. I’m all ears.” You felt small under his gaze. 

The attempt to look nonchalant fooled no one. The tension in his jaw, the slight crease between his brows, and the arms crossed over his chest told another story. 

You stepped forward, hesitating, really trying to find the right words. “I came to apologize. I was wrong, Peter. I was exhausted and overwhelmed, but that’s no excuse for yelling at you. I... I hurt you, and I’m sorry. You’re my best friend and... I really want things to go back to normal. For us to go back to how we were before.” 

His eyes narrowed slightly, and he shook his head, letting out a long, heavy sigh. The gesture made your heart drop, as if you were falling off an endless cliff. 

“No,” he said, his voice low but firm. A punch to the stomach wouldn’t have hurt as much. 

“No?” you repeated, unable to hide the confusion and tightness that overtook you. Your heart sank in your chest, the feeling like falling. 

Peter rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable, shifting his weight between his legs. “I don’t want things to go back to normal,” he explained, his voice even lower, almost a whisper. 

You blinked, completely bewildered. “What does that mean?” 

He took a step toward you but stopped, maintaining a small distance. His eyes met yours, and the intensity in his gaze made you hold your breath. 

“It means that I’m sorry too,” he began, his voice heavy with emotion. “I shouldn’t have provoked you like that, especially when you were already exhausted. But... I do it because...” He stopped, clearly struggling to find the right words. 

“Because what?” you urged, feeling your palms begin to sweat. 

This was it—Peter was a tiny step away from ruining everything again. But damn it, he had to risk it. He couldn’t just pretend he wanted to be just friends. How could he? It was painful to be so close and so far away at the same time. He needed more; he wanted more. 

“Because I like your attention, okay?” he finally blurted out, his voice louder than he intended. “I like when you look at me, even if it’s to tell me to shut up or roll your eyes. I like when you smile at my stupid jokes, even if you pretend you don’t find them funny. And, damn, I like being near you.” 

“Peter…” you began, but he raised a hand to interrupt you. 

“I know, I know,” he said, laughing nervously. “I’m terrible at this. That’s why I always hide everything behind jokes and teasing. But... it’s true. I like you. I really do. And I don’t want things to go back to normal, because, to be honest, ‘normal’ was never enough for me.” 

You stood still, each of his words piercing deep into your chest, but in a sweet, almost painful way. He was there, completely vulnerable, and you didn’t know if it was possible to love him more than you did at that moment. Your heart slammed against your ribs with each painful beat. 

He felt the same. Peter felt the same. 

You felt tears prick your eyes, but you kept your gaze locked on him, taking in every word. 

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” you finally said, your voice heavy with emotion. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that good or bad?” 

“It’s annoying,” you replied, a small smile playing on your lips. “But it’s also… everything I needed to hear.” 

His eyes widened slightly, shocked by your confession. “Really?” 

You shrugged, feigning casualness, but your smile gave you away. “So, are you going to kiss me or keep stalling?” 

The surprise on his face turned into a mischievous grin. “Oh, so now it’s me who’s stalling?” 

“Peter,” you warned, but he was already closer, so fast that you barely noticed the movement. 

His hands cupped your face, purposefully slow, still with a small smile curled on his lips as he moved closer and closer. Your eyes closed as you felt his breath intertwine with yours, his sweet breath making you imagine that his mouth must be even sweeter. Gently, his lips molded to yours, remaining that way for a moment before he pulled back. You felt his chest rise and fall unevenly, as if he had run around the planet. Peter murmured something, too fast for your ears to understand. 

The next second his lips pressed against yours again, hungry. His hand went down your spine, firming on your waist to pull you closer, crushing you against his chest as his lips explored your mouth. You sighed as you felt his tongue, soft and warm, slide across yours, kissing you deeply. He kissed you for what could have been an eternity, stealing the air from your lungs, turning you into a fragile creature dependent on the caresses of that wicked mouth. 

When you separated, he refused to stop kissing you, rubbing his lips along your jaw, leaving love bites on the side of your neck, adoring every part of you, as if to make up for all the lost time. Small noises of pleasure escaped your mouth, your knees barely seemed capable of keeping you upright, so your hands quickly found support on his broad shoulders. “Peter.” You sighed weakly, feeling your face heat as he straightened, leveling your faces. His mouth was red and swollen, with a crooked smile, his eyes darker than ever. 

“I should do this more often,” he teased, his voice low and husky, his fingers still kneading the soft flesh of your waist. 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile. “Maybe.” 

He chuckled, gently brushing your hair away from your face, looking at you more closely. “You’re tired, aren’t you?” he asked, his tone more serious now. 

“A little,” you admitted, shrugging, afraid of ruining the moment. 

“Then I think it’s time for you to rest.” 

“But—” He didn’t allow any objections, guiding you to the bed nearby, wide enough for both of you. He settled down beside you, pulling you to lie against him. His fingers traced calming circles on your back. “You can’t send me away anymore, got it?” 

You nodded, your face pressed against the curve of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent that dulled your senses. The accumulated exhaustion finally began to ease. “But I can still make you dance to ABBA in the street.” You joked, smiling as he shuddered dramatically. 

“Do your worst, you little troublemaker.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, then another to your temple, and countless others until he reached your ear. “Ask me to stay,” he whispered, and just because he could, he nipped the sensitive skin just below. 

You shivered, holding him tighter in your arms, feeling his chest vibrate with a silent laugh. Raising your face, you used your siren voice. “Stay with me, Peter.” 

His eyes widened in surprise, staring at you for long seconds before his lips curled into a devilish grin. “Fuck, can you do that again? Please, we need to test your powers when—” 

“Peter.” You cut him off with a laugh, burying your face back against his chest, feeling your cheeks burn at the direction the conversation had taken. “Later, okay? Can we just rest now?” 

“You don’t have to ask twice, love.” 

The familiar sense of security you always felt around him returned in full force, but this time there was something more. Something deeper, more intimate. 

With your face pressed to his neck, you hesitated for a moment before placing a soft kiss there, a silent thank-you for everything he was. 

Peter tightened his embrace, and for the first time in days, you felt whole.