#i also feel like there could be a third installment of this which is him not even being able to go to biloxi-

[perexcri]

will going on his casino run in las vegas: tired, overwrought, expected, hinted at by canon

will going on his casino run in biloxi: refreshing, exciting, unexpected, spits in canon's face, brings up more interesting questions (such as: wtf are you even supposed to do in a place like biloxi), implies that he couldn't afford to enact his fraud in las vegas and had to settle for somewhere else which adds both humor and interesting socioeconomic questions to the matter. oh also if he did it at the right time of year he'd get to go to a crawfish boil lol

[kutepik]

Eyes on you

(nsfw 18+) Caleb has hidden cameras all over his house, and you've decided to put on a show for him.

2k words. posted also on ao3!

stalking, obsessive behavior, voyeurism, fem!reader.

PART 2 IS HERE!

Cameras. There were hidden cameras all over his house. There wasn't a bookcase or a mirror that didn’t have a little dot on it, almost imperceptible to the untrained eye. You only knew they were there by accident: when you took the elevator to Caleb's apartment, you bumped into an excited boy wearing a cap and uniform of a security company. 

"Are you Mr. Caleb's girlfriend? What a pleasure, I only saw you in pictures!" The boy waved, taking you by surprise. 

"No... I'm just a friend." You said a little confused, and the energetic boy explained himself.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I saw so many photos of Mr. Caleb with you the day I went to install those cameras that I thought you were dating. He also said he was installing the cameras to protect someone he liked." Cameras? What cameras? You thought, but before you could say anything, the elevator door opened and the boy jumped out. "Let me know if any of them stop working, I've installed so many I've almost lost count! Bye!" And so he disappeared down the hall.

Now you were in the living room, standing there in the middle, feeling the weight of your body and your movements, self-conscious about yourself and alert to the fact that you were being watched. Was he watching you? Now? Right now? That’s fucked up. Jail worthy. Caleb was obsessed with you and if your recent reunion hadn't already proved it, the dozen or hundreds of hidden cameras scattered around that room were proof that Caleb was sick. 

But we know the saying: When you point one finger, there are three fingers pointing back to you. More sickening than knowing that you were being watched, from every angle and probably in every room, was the fact that you were aroused. The spot between your legs throbbed, excited by the situation, by the fact that Caleb had probably seen you naked, had seen you sleeping, had seen you showering... It was so fucking wrong that, despite being against everything he had done in Skyhaven right after the reunion, you still delighted in remembering the possessiveness and obsession that melted at the words of your friend, oh, dear friend. 

In addition to the burning sensation between your legs, there was this tingle in your stomach at the thought of a man - not just any man, we're talking about Caleb - being so concerned, so devoted to you that he would kill and die for your happiness. In fact, a man who returned from the ashes and survived for you and you alone. He was no longer your sweet childhood friend... But that wasn't a bad thing. Now he became a man who had eyes (many, it seems, all over the house), only and exclusively for you. Caleb was crazy about you, and, oh shit, you loved it, which made you as crazy as he was. 

So you had two options: the first was to confront Caleb about why the fuck he had installed so many cameras in the apartment if the only person who spent time there apart from him was you; the second was to pretend you didn't know anything and carry on with your life as if everything was normal. 

You always chose the second option when it came to Caleb, ever since you were a teenager and in college. Whether it was sneaking around his room and finding your panties secretly hidden in the back of his closet, or listening to him masturbate while calling your name when he thought he was alone, you always pretended everything was normal. But ever since, and even more so now that you've found each other again, there was nothing normal about it, and no reason to carry on in the same way. After all, if he had changed, there was no reason for you to remain the same or pretend you didn't know anything. 

Then there was a third and new option: pretending not to know anything, but taking advantage of the situation to play with Caleb. Basically, make him taste his own medicine. If he wanted to see you, well, he would.

Pretending to be normal, you sat down on the sofa and took off your coat, throwing it on the coffee table. You took out your cell phone and called his number. 

"Is my favorite guest home yet?" Caleb answered in his usual animated voice. 

"Yeah. I'm bored. Still working? Is it break time?" You remembered that around this time he was most active on social media, so it should be the best time to put into action what you had in mind.

"Ah…You've always been very clever. Yes, I'm on break. I'll be home in two hours and we can do whatever you want. Don't get bored, you can turn on the TV or play a game on the console I have." Caleb was always like that, attentive to you, always wanting to please you. He wasn't much of a gamer, but because you liked games, he had bought a console with the excuse that he was getting interested in games. But now you weren't going to play with the console. You were going to play with something else. 

"Oh, no..." You put the phone on speaker and placed it on the arm of the sofa. You lifted your shirt and brought your fingers up to your bra, massaging your nipples. "I want to relax, not play." You said, holding your right breast while spreading your legs, slipping anxious fingers into your pants, brushing the fingertips against the wet panties. 

The call went silent. Bingo. He was indeed watching you, like the pervert he was. 

"Caleb?" You asked innocently, keeping your voice steady as you started moving your hand in circles, making it obvious what you were doing inside those tight pants. 

"A-ah, yes. Relax..." His breathing was heavy on the other end of the line, and suddenly you heard the sound of a zipper being opened. You had to stop yourself from moaning just then. He was starting to touch himself while watching you. "Why don't you, uh, take a shower in my bathroom?" His voice was a little choked. He was probably pumping himself slowly, staring at your live image through the screen in his office. Your pussy throbbed and suddenly your pants were too tight and too hot. You stopped stroking your own breasts and took both hands to the waistband of your trousers, sliding them down your legs. Then you took off your shirt, leaving only your panties and bra on. You positioned yourself again, this time with your legs spread wider and your heels resting on the table in front of the sofa. Your fingers returned to the soaked fabric of your panties, touching the sensitive clit through the wet cloth. 

"Yeah, I'll have a shower, I'm just finishing something up." With your middle finger, you moved your panties to one side to touch yourself directly. You bit your lip, holding back a moan, and squeezed your breast with your other hand. 

"Fuck..." he swore. 

"All right?" You replied innocently, holding back your unsteady voice as you carried on stimulating your clit at a steady pace. You wanted him to think you didn't know about the cameras, so you had to stay as normal as possible on the phone.

"Yup... I- I just hit my finger," he lied, slurring his words. 

"Caleb-" You said, catching your breath. "I miss you,"

"I miss you too." He sounded almost breathless. "I can come over now."

"No, you can't. There's work. Or is there something urgent you need to do here?" You quickly pulled down your panties, leaving them between your thighs. Then, out of the blue, you heard the unmistakable sound of a camera zooming in. He must have been eating you with his eyes, and now he wanted a closer look. You opened your folds, circling your fingers around the soaked entrance, like a pervert. You slowly moved the fingers up to your clit, stimulating yourself obscenely again. The other end of the line was completely silent, only a few low sounds and grunts were audible. "Caleb, is there something urgent you need to do here?" 

"Uh-" He stammered, and you raised your hips a little, grinding against your hand. "Fuck, fuck," he said. He didn't bother with sentences anymore. 

"What’s up with you? I'm feeling lonely and bored here. Can't you entertain me?" You teased innocently, but your legs were already shaking. 

"I can entertain you. Ah-" For a second, you heard the wet, rhythmic sound of his thrusts against his own hand. Oh my. Caleb had his pants down, sat somewhere in the FAA, and was touching himself like a teenager while he watched you. And you fucking loved it. "I can entertain you... I can be so, so good for you, if you let me." His voice was raspy and breathless. If you weren't so close to your orgasm, you might've asked him if everything was alright and put him in a tough spot again, but you couldn't even think about that. You were too caught up in your own pleasure. One hand was on your nipple under your bra, the other was all over your clit, and you arched your back on the sofa.

"I- I know you know how to entertain me. You're so good to me, always." You gasped, no longer caring that he was probably listening to the sound of your quick fingers against the wet flesh of your vagina. 

Suddenly, you heard a muffled cry on the other end of the line and several "Fuck, fuck, fuck" being whispered like a mantra at a low volume, as if he had his hand against his own mouth. He was coming. And that was all it took for the tingling at the base of your belly to explode and flow out of your pussy in an obscene and intense orgasm. 

You had just squirted all over the living room table and carpet, and had probably wet the sofa as well. The two of you were silent, only the audible gasp of your breaths as you caught your breath. 

"Caleb? Are you still there? It seems the connection was cut." You lied, still pretending you didn't know anything. He coughed and the sound of things being adjusted or stirred could be heard in the background. 

"Yeah, yeah… Probably disconnected or something." 

You got up and stood next to the sofa, looking at the mess you had left there. 

"Caleb I think I spilled...something on your sofa and carpet. Is there any cleaning cloth so I can clean it up?" You looked around. 

"NO!" Caleb almost shouted from the other side. "I mean, it's no problem, pipsqueak. You don't have to clean up. You must be tired from all this, right?" He cleared his throat. "From the trip, and everything. Just rest more, like I said, you can use my bathroom and take a shower if you want."

"Hm, where's that cleaning freak from before? Who are you and what have you done with my Caleb?" You heard a laugh on the other end of the line. 

"That's why. I'll take care of it. Please" The last word sounded as if he was begging. "I'll be home soon, and I'll be able to...entertain you, as you wish. We can, huh, relax together, too."

You laughed and picked up your cell phone, walking to the bathroom while dropping your bra in the hallway, knowing that he was watching here too. You picked up your wet panties and placed them on the bathroom door handle. In an instant, you could see a small dot hidden next to a painting, pointing directly at where you were standing. You stared directly at it, smiled and winked. 

"I'm waiting for you then, Caleb."

Part 2 is here

[miquiti]

Emotional Disconnection in Lloyd Garmadon: A Psychological and Narrative Analysis

In the most recent season of Ninjago, many viewers noticed a significant shift in the characterization of Lloyd Garmadon. Compared to previous seasons, Lloyd appears withdrawn, distant, and shows clear signs of emotional flattening. His involvement in key events is minimal, his verbal contributions are scarce, and his body language reflects a noticeable sense of detachment. A friend and I even ranked Lloyd as the third ninja with the least screen time this season—only behind Cole and Jay. However, even they maintained their typical personalities in their brief appearances. What concerned us most was the absence of his visions, a trait confirmed as permanent in the previous two seasons.

At first, this change was frustrating. However, after discussing the matter with a friend who is about to graduate in Psychology, she offered an interpretation that completely shifted our perspective: Lloyd may be experiencing emotional disconnection as a result of accumulated traumatic events. Based on this hypothesis, we developed two plausible theories, both supported by psychological literature.

Emotional Disconnection: Clinical Definition and Foundations

Emotional disconnection is a psychological phenomenon associated with conditions such as post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), dissociative disorders, major depression, or even temporary adaptive responses to chronic stress. Broadly speaking, it refers to a reduced or lost ability to experience or express emotions, whether as an unconscious defense mechanism or as a symptom of a greater disorder.

In high-stress emotional contexts—such as repeated traumatic experiences (war, loss, betrayal, guilt, excessive responsibility)—the nervous system can enter a prolonged state of hypoactivation, meaning a general decrease in emotional, behavioral, and cognitive responses. This phenomenon is also known as emotional numbing.

Common Symptoms of Emotional Disconnection

Social and behavioral withdrawal: The individual avoids active interaction with their environment. In Lloyd's case, this is seen in his passive stance, scarce dialogue, and minimal group engagement.

Affective flattening: There is a visible reduction in emotional expression: few smiles, rare signs of distress or anger, even in situations that would typically provoke them. This matches Lloyd's attitude, as he rarely reacts emotionally during critical events.

Feelings of unreality or detachment from the environment (derealization): The world may feel distant or artificial. Narratively, this could be reflected in scenes where Lloyd silently watches events unfold, seemingly disconnected from his surroundings.

Disconnection from one’s own emotions (depersonalization): The individual may feel like they're acting automatically, without personal involvement. This could explain why Lloyd behaves mechanically in combat or lacks clear motivation.

Reduced motivation or initiative: Often, there is a loss of interest in previous activities or a lack of energy to act. In a setting like Ninjago, where characters are usually proactive, Lloyd’s passivity becomes even more striking.

Blocking or suppression of intense memories or mental processes: In individuals with traumatic experiences, the mind may suppress access to emotionally threatening content. In Lloyd’s case, this could explain the temporary absence of his visions.

Clinically, these symptoms align with conditions like PTSD, dissociative disorders, or even adaptive forms of depression. Lloyd’s training with Rontu gave him tools to manage his visions, so he may have learned to suppress them as a coping mechanism. However, such suppression can trigger an emotional rebound—an abrupt and intense resurgence of emotions or abilities—which could signal a major narrative turning point in the second half of the season or in future installments.

Application to His Visions and the Two Proposed Theories

Theory of emotional repression of visions: If Lloyd is in a dissociative state, it’s plausible that his visions—often emotionally intense (e.g., foreseeing death, betrayal, or failure)—have been unconsciously blocked. His training with Rontu gave him some control over these visions, and he may have “shut off” that channel as a form of self-protection. This aligns with clinical patterns observed in individuals who choose not to access unusual mental functions (in narrative terms) to preserve their mental stability.

_ _ _ _ _

Theory of resignation due to inevitability of visions: Another theory suggests Lloyd still has visions but no longer fights them. In battles such as those against Zeatrix or Thunderfang, he doesn’t use his usual combat style: instead of confronting, he dodges, retreats, and attacks from a distance. This behavior may reflect a resignation to a fate he has already foreseen.

From a psychological perspective, this relates to the concept of learned helplessness (Seligman, 1975), where a person, after repeated failures to avoid a negative outcome, stops trying and adopts a passive stance. For Lloyd, this might be a form of emotional self-preservation: if resisting the vision changes nothing, perhaps it’s better not to resist. This narrative arc is powerful because it ties directly into his past development: Lloyd, who always rebelled against his lineage and tried to shape his own destiny, now seems to be surrendering to the weight of inevitability. This may be a direct consequence of the battle with Zeatrix, where he believed he had overcome his vision, only to see it come true anyway.

Professional Conclusion

Both interpretations are supported by legitimate psychological concepts. In one case, we see the effects of trauma as emotional dissociation; in the other, cognitive adaptation to a perceived inevitability. Both are plausible in characters exposed to constant stress, loss, the burden of responsibility, and supernatural abilities that carry a mental toll.

If this portrayal was intentional—which is likely—we are witnessing a characterization that realistically reflects real psychological processes, adding depth to Lloyd’s arc and opening new possibilities for future development.

[into-crazy]

hot tub surprise

Negan Smith x Female Reader one shot

Non-apocalyptic AU // The Walking Dead AU

Summary: You sneak over to your older next door neighbor's house and use his hot tub. Hoping that he'll come out and catch you.

Warnings- mature language, alcohol consumption, age gap(reader's over 18, Negan's in his 40s), breaking and entering, NSFW, SMUT, slight masochism, masturbation, degradation, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, ages 18+

Author's Note: There were a few times where I had to stop and take a deep breath to calm down because it got pretty hot lol. But I had a lot of fun writing this one, I hope you guys like it♡

💕divider by @saradika-graphics

There was something you always liked about your next door neighbor, Negan Smith.

Maybe it was because you were into older men. It could be his cocky, devil-may-care personality. Or perhaps it was that deep husk in his voice that always made your pussy throb. But ever since he's moved here you've had your eyes on him.

You are under the impression that perhaps Negan was attracted you too. As he showers you with compliments every time you see him. There have also been a few times where you've caught him staring at you a little too long. And he's always searching for a reason to be able to "accidentally" touch you in some way.

However, he's never actually told you or made some sort of move. Though neither have you.

The reason being that you are still currently living with your parents. One of them is always around which makes it difficult for you to try and flirt with him. You don't want your parents to know that you're attracted to your older neighbor. What would they think if they found out? Certainly they would disapprove. What makes the matter even worse is that Negan is really good friends with your father. So.. double yikes.

Still, you're always looking for the perfect opportunity to make a move on him.

Luckily for you, your parents are going out of town this weekend to celebrate their anniversary. Your father took another day off from work so that they can come back on Monday. That way they have more time to spend alone together. So there had never been a better opportunity for you than now.

Negan's got a hot tub in his backyard. He had it installed last year. On cool, windy nights he's often in there. In nothing but his black swim trunks, with a glass of whiskey in his hand. You know this all too well because you have a perfect view of it from your bedroom window. It would be embarrassing to admit how many times you've looked out of your window to see if he was out there. Not that you're a total stalker. Only staring at him for no more than a few seconds before carrying on with your day. But man, seeing his wet body sure does make everything better. That broad, hairy chest and those toned, tattooed arms glistening from the water. You've certainly fantasized about being with him in that spa plenty of times. Straddling his lap and making out with him until one of you takes it further.

Negan had said that your parents or even the three of you could go over to use it anytime you wanted. Your parents had went together a couple times. You didn't want to feel like a third wheel, so you didn't go when they invited you. There wasn't any way you would go by yourself, as it doesn't seem appropriate. However, now that your parents are going out of town for a while.. perhaps you could make something work with that.

//

Thursday evening.

Your father and Negan are sitting on the patio, having a couple of beers. When Negan asks about weekend plans, your father tells him about their anniversary getaway. How this is their 25th year together and they wanted to do something special. They are going to be staying at a luxury, spa hotel next to the lake. Spending the entirety of their time there relaxing by the water, drinking expensive wine, and getting full body massages.

"That sounds very nice, the two of you will have a great time." Negan offers his thoughts on the matter. "Twenty five years? That's fucking remarkable."

"Yeah, thanks. We're really looking forward to it." Your father replies before downing the rest of his bottle. "Hey, y/n!" He calls for you from outside.

You poke your head out, briefly locking eyes with Negan and giving him a nod before looking at your father. "Yeah?"

"Could you grab me another beer, sweetheart?"

Negan leans forward, holding his bottle up. "Make that two, would you?"

You go to retrieve them and your father asks Negan if he has anything going on this weekend.

Negan takes the last sip of his beer, taking a second to ponder on it. "Do I have something to do? Uh no, not much." You come back outside with two beers in your hands. Walking over to them you hand your father his beer first as he was closer. "Think I'm gonna spend the weekend drinking and relaxing, myself." You go to give the other bottle to Negan. His hand reaches out to grab it as he keeps talking, "maybe take a dip in the hot tub." His fingers brush over yours as he takes the beverage. You look at him and he gives you a half smirk, "thank you darlin'."

"You're welcome." You smile back at him before turning around to go back inside. God, the tension you've just felt. Also, that pet name definitely made you blush.

Good thing your father was focused on popping opening his bottle and didn't notice the exchange. Because you were certainly burning up after that. Why does Negan keep doing that to you? Surely he must know the effect he has on you. And that mention about his hot tub was certainly a jab at you. Yeah.. he knows. He fucking knows!

//

Friday arrives.

You had work/studies the whole morning. But your parents spent the time getting everything ready for their trip. Making sure that they had their bags packed, and checking to see that things at home will be in order while they're gone. Once the afternoon rolls around, you are in the driveway waving your parents goodbye.

"Have a great time- and drive safe!" You call out just before they drive away.

Finally, you will be home alone for the next few days. Which means you'll have Negan all to yourself.

You've come up with a bold plan. Something risky. You are going to make the first move. Show him how very interested you are in him.

Negan had left his house shortly after the sun had went down. Which wasn't an issue for you, since that would make it much easier for you to carry out your plan.

You picked out the hottest, most revealing bikini that you own and booked it over to Negan's house. Making sure that none of the other neighbors see you before letting yourself in through the backyard gate. It wasn't new to you as you've already been here quite a few times for casual hangouts and such with your parents. But it's now the first time you been over here by yourself. It brings on a surge of adrenaline.

Taking the time you have to set the mood, you start up the spa. Turning on his radio and setting it on low to your local station that plays all the best love songs. After everything seems to be set, you take off your clothes and climb into the large tub. Settling into the water with a sigh. The water is hot and the jets feel amazing on your back. Now you know why Negan loves this thing so much, it's incredible!

Some time goes by before you ultimately hear the sound of a car pulling up front. You get up out of the water and sit on the edge of the tub. On the farthest one, that way you are facing the back door in which you anticipate Negan will come out from. There are lights being turned on inside, confirming that he's home. Your heart pounds faster in your chest when you realize they're getting closer. Then the light above you comes on, the door swings open, and out steps Negan.

The instant his eyes land on you he is visibly shocked. "What the hell- y/n? What are you doing here?"

His eyes travel down your entire body then snap back up to your face. You're wearing the tiniest fucking bikini he's ever seen, it's barely covering anything!

You bite your lip, looking him up and down. He's got on a fitted tshirt with some dark jeans, and his leather jacket folded over his arm. You grin at him before reply, "hi Negan. I hope you don't mind that I came over for a dip, since you said I could anytime." Using one hand to brace yourself on the tub, you lean back and spread your legs. Running the other hand teasing up your thigh. "I'd really like it if you'd join me."

He speaks to you with a mixture of anger and urgency, "damn it y/n, this seriously isn't the-" Something cuts him off.

"Hey, there you are." A woman suddenly steps out of the house looking for Negan. You quickly close your legs, startled by this new woman's presence. Her gaze immediately widens at you before turning towards him, "I'm sorry, who's this?"

This is one of the most embarrassing things that could have ever happened to you. Clearly she saw you flirting lewdly with Negan. You search around desperately for something to cover up, but there's nothing nearby. The lower half of your body is frozen in place and refuses to move. So you sit there awkwardly. Managing to get out, "shit, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't realize you had company."

The woman still stares at Negan, expecting an answer. He sighs, "this is my neighbor. She lives right next door. Look I swear, I didn't know she would come over like this. But I know her parents and we'll find a way to deal with this."

He looks at you with disappointment in his eyes, which crushes you even more. You wish you could just go back to prevent this from happening.

The woman still appears uneasy about the whole situation, and rightfully so. You've just completely interrupted their evening. She motions towards the door, "yeah I think I'm going to go. You obviously have something here you need to take care of and I really don't want to stay for that."

Negan swears under his breath, shaking his head before replying. "Yeah, I understand."

He opens the door so she can go inside and grab her things. As she goes in, he directs his attention towards you. "Stay right there. Don't you go anywhere, young lady."

You give him an apologetic nod and he steps in after the woman. Sinking back into the water as it gives you some form of coverage. This sucks. It seriously does. Now you're worried that he's going to tell your parents about this, fuck! You use the time to come up with something, to beg him not to tell on you.

A minute or so goes by before the opening of the door catches your attention. Negan steps outside. He takes a few steps towards you, then plants his feet and crosses his arms. He looks beyond pissed. "Well then, would you mind telling me what the fuck you think you're doing?"

You tense up, unable to make or hold eye contact with him. Instead choosing to stare down at the water in front of you. "I-I'm really sorry, Negan. I shouldn't have come over like this."

"No you shouldn't have, this is highly inappropriate." He berates you more. "And you know that. What the hell were you thinking?"

Tears start to form in your eyes. You feel like a dog that's being scorned for peeing on the carpet. "I know it is, and I'm so sorry.. But I promise to never do it again. I'll just go home okay. P-Please don't tell my parents about this."

Negan clicks his tongue sharply at that. "Shit I don't know. There's a lot you did that I can't just let go. Breaking into my backyard, using my stuff without asking, wearing practically nothing and then opening your legs in front of me like a fucking slut."

You miss the way his tone changes towards the end of that last sentence. "I sincerely apologize, and especially for ruining your date. I didn't mean to do that. I won't do it ever again."

He exhales heavily. "Look at me."

You muster up enough courage to bring your gaze up towards him. He looks hot when he's mad. And you hate to admit it, but his scolding gives your core a pleasant sensation. It's a strange feeling, you're unsure how to describe it. Your thighs squeeze together as a result of that. Negan seems to have caught on to that as well.

"I guess I don't have to tell your folks about any of this," he starts. "And I won't tell them, if you get back up that ledge and spread those legs again."

"I'm- you want me to do what?" You reply shakily. Not sure whether you heard him correctly or not. But that heavy look in his eyes tell you that he was dead serious.

"I said get back on that Goddamn ledge and spread those pretty fucking legs for me. You want me to keep my mouth shut, don't you?"

A shiver rattles your spine at his words. You nod, "mhm."

He gives a hum. "What are you waiting for, then? Get your ass up there."

You emerge from the water and sit right back where you were before. Doing as you're told and opening your legs. Shame and arousal mix together pleasantly throughout your body when you notice his gaze trailing over every part of your body.

Negan gives a wolf whistle, "Hot damn that is a wonderful sight to see." He is at the other side of the tub now, leaning against it to get a better view. "Now do me a favor and undo those straps, sweetheart. I wanna see it all."

Using your hand you release every strap of your bikini. Starting first with the top, then the bottoms. Letting the articles fall onto the floor behind you. You are now completely naked, your plush breasts and warm cunt on full display before Negan.

He licks his lips, "shit baby, you look absolutely fucking gorgeous." There is a tent at the front of his pants, indicating that he's getting hard from the sight of you. He removes his own clothing, stripping down to his boxers. Then he climbs into the tub, sitting at the opposite end of you. "Go on and touch yourself."

Your fingers move to your clit, drawing circles at a teasing- yet pleasurable pace. Inserting them into your aching hole then bringing them back to smear your wetness around your bud. Releasing moans and whimpers that are music to Negan's ears.

He runs his own hand over his bulge. His breath is getting heavier, "is this how you touch yourself when you're thinking about me?"

"Yes," you nod, admitting that you do.

"Yeah, I bet you think about me every time huh? Thinking about my fingers instead of your own inside you. Sitting that pretty ass on my face while I eat that pussy. Or my cock slamming in and out of you as I fuck you dumb. Is that right baby?"

Your hips stutter as you listen to every filthy word that left his mouth. "God, yes.. I think about you all the time Negan. I want you s-so bad."

A chuckle leaves his lips. "I know you do." He leaves the wall and comes closer to you. His hazel eyes filled with lust. "And you wanna know something? I want you too." Standing directly before you, he places his large palms on your thighs. Gliding them up to your stomach. "I've wanted you for so long, you have no fucking idea how crazy it drove me." He brings his face closer to where his lips are almost touching yours. "And now that I've got you all to myself I'm gonna take my time and enjoy every second of it."

He leans in, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss. Slipping his tongue into your welcoming mouth, you can taste the whiskey that he'd been drinking. The roughness of his beard scratches pleasantly against your soft skin while he devours you. One of his hands caresses your breasts as he trails wet kisses and marks down your neck. Pulling back slightly to look at your breast when he rubs and pinches at your peaked nipple. "You've got some nice tits." He states, taking it into his mouth to suck on the bud.

Your fingers run through his hair while he sucks marks on to your chest. Meanwhile your core is aching for some attention, your hips press against him. "Negan, please."

He chuckles at your neediness. "Look at you squirming for me. Don't worry, I'm gonna give you what you need." Sliding further down your body, he brings his face to your pelvis. Wrapping his arms around your thighs, wasting no more time as he buries his face in your eager cunt. He licks a long strip up your slit towards your clit, letting out a deep groan. "Fuck, your pussy tastes amazing." He laps at you a few more times before his tongue travels upward to lick and suck on your clit. Inserting two of his thick fingers into your dripping entrance, he begins pumping them in and out of you. Skillfully curling them against that spot that immediately gets you closer and closer to your orgasm.

"Oh f-fuck, right there- please." You moan, right on the verge of sweet release. Trying hard not to be too loud as to not alert any of the neighbors.

He can feel by the tightening of your walls that you are about to cum. "Go ahead baby, cum all over my face."

His approval was everything you needed. Your orgasm gushes out of you while you let go with a strained cry. Negan laps it up with a satisfied hum. There's a shift in his eyes when he looks up at you, they're darker. Hungrier. Once you come back down from the high you bring your focus to his cock, straining to get out of his drenched boxers. The article sticking to his skin, giving a gorgeous outline of his manhood. You reach down, palming it. The action making him hiss.

"Want something, darlin'?"

You reach under the waistband to fully grasp his hardened member. Stroking it while whispering, "I want this.. want you."

"Good, because I need to feel that pussy around my dick now." He snatches you off from the edge, turning you around and bending you over it. Tugging down the rest of his boxers, he pulls out his cock. He lines himself up with your entrance and slides right in, the intrusion making both of you groan. The water sloshes around more violently as he pounds into you. "Shit you're so fucking tight. Keep sucking me right in" He pants while thrusting into you. You moan in ecstasy, not able to do much but lay there and take his cock. He leans over you, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging your head to the side so he can talk in your ear. "Such a dirty fucking girl you are. I wonder what your old man would think if he found out, hm? That you snuck over here and let me fuck you like the horny little slut that you are."

You let out a loud cry in response, your spongy walls clamping tighter down on him. "I.. I don't know." Was all you manage to mutter out.

A deep chuckle leaves his lips, brushing past your sensitive skin. "Oh you don't? Maybe I should ask him then."

"No!" You nearly scream out loud. "Don't tell him, please!"

His brutal thrusting doesn't falter, slamming into you balls deep every thrust. "I won't if you promise to be a good girl and cum on my cock."

"God yes- yes! I promise to cum all over your cock."

His hand snakes in front of you to rub firmly on your clit. The extra stimulation making your body tremble uncontrollably under him. You are so close to cumming and so is he, but he needs you to let go first. He urges you on, "that's it baby, cum for me."

"Ohh fuck, fuck, fuck!" Your eyes roll back and you finally cum. Cunt squeezing down hard on his cock and milking him of his own orgasm. He pulls out of you just in time to shoot his load all over your back. Releasing a deep groan as he paints your skin with his warm, milky seed.

"Holy shit," Negan laughs breathlessly. The two of you stay there for a few seconds to catch your breaths. He is the first to move, "alright stay right here. I'm gonna get something to clean you up." He exits the spa, going to collect a towel from the towel rack. Stepping back in he uses the article to wipe your pussy and the cum from your back. Making sure you are nice and clear before tossing the soiled cloth on to the floor. He taps you lightly, "all done."

"Thank you," you return coming off the edge and settling down next to him in the relaxing water. Both naked and satisfied.

He wraps his arm around your shoulders, giving you a sweet peck on your lips. "That was fucking incredible."

"Mm, sure was." You sigh contentedly, resting your head on his chest.

His thumb brushes affectionately against your arm. "It looks like I've got you all to myself for the next couple of days."

"What happens after that?"

He gives a half smirk. "We'll figure that out later. But you are mine and I'm not giving you up, that's for damn sure."

You grin widely at his answer.

[joonsytip]

All Too Well || Wonwoo

Synopsis: With Wonwoo's dilemma hitting the wall and your perseverance getting stronger, will the events unfold as foreseen or the fate will turn its course?

Word Count: 2k

Third and final installment of Wonwoo drabble series (set in the Withering for You universe but can be read as a standalone drabble series).

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

Say Don't Go | So It Goes | All Too Well

It's been a week since Wonwoo has seen you. When he woke up that fateful day along with nothing but the void you, it didn't take him long to recollect the happenings from within the car to his sheets. The slightly recovered bruises on his knuckles and the bloodstains on his bedroom wall are the witnesses of the frenzy state he was in, still is.

The guilt of sleeping with you eats him up. The regret of getting wasted and causing the slip of his true feelings and also his dick into you, makes him wanna get swallowed by the ground. He hates that his subconscious mind was conscious enough to hear your sobs but did nothing to stop them.

Wonwoo contemplates for the whole week that follows. He wonders if he should contact you or let you have your space and contact him whenever you're ready.

He's not clear in head, unsure of what he'd say on seeing you again.

Sorry, it was a mistake. He wonders if he should go ahead with the classic lie and be an entitled jerk, letting you berate him which would gradually help you in letting go those feelings for him.

It wasn't a mistake, I really meant everything I said and did but sorry we can't be together. This seemed too much of truth bombing in a situation where the other party (you) is already hurt beyond repair.

In his mind, he tries several other permutations and combinations but never considers that one way which would save everyone from the headaches and all the heartbreaks.

Everyone can sense the shift, something has definitely happened by the way you have been avoiding meetups and can guess the reason to be Wonwoo. They can't pinpoint exactly but they're sure it started right after that night's party.

"I need you to take everything off your chest while I'm asking you nicely.", your best friend tells you, "My patience has been thinned nowadays and don't make me loose my temper."

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, as you look at her and Seungcheol whose eyes are begging you to comply with his wife because she can indeed be scary.

"Do you want Seungcheol to be gone from here?", she asks, her gaze softening, "It's okay, he won't mind."

Before you could answer, Seungcheol is already off his seat saying, "I'll head back to the office, have some matters to take care of.", and he leans to peck his wife on forehead, "Call me if you need anything and let me know once done, I'll come and pick you up."

After Seungcheol leaves, a comfortable silence falls upon.

"You're already showing.", you say smiling and your best friend mirrors one to you.

"Four months already", she says caressing her protruding belly, "Time flies by, I swear it feels like yesterday I took the test and it came out positive. Seungcheol had cried the whole night, holding me close. Though he has became a lot more sensitive than me.", she adds and looks at you, "But enough about us. I came here just to make you lift some weight off. I could have brought Gyu, but I thought we should have a one to one before letting the guys know if at all you're willing to."

When your gazes meet, you can tell that she already has an inkling because her hunch has always been accurate. So you squirm in your seat and after failing to keep the tears at bay you tell her what had exactly happened in a messy-teary state.

After consoling you, she waits for you to stop crying, blinking back her own tears.

"Are you planning to address this to Wonwoo?", she asks softly.

You shake your head, "He probably doesn't even remember."

"Bullshit." she scoffs, "Are you waiting for him to contact you? Do you want me to talk to him?"

You chuckle with all bitterness, "Yes, I wanted him to contact me but it's been a week already and honestly, I don't even want to see him now because he'll repeat the same words, which are not exactly pleasant to hear. I hate how right headed he is, how all his fears are legit. I wouldn't have done it either."

You lean up to look at her, "Also, I don't want you to talk to him and I'd appreciate it if you can keep this to yourself because we're in the same group and the guys would cause a ruckus if they become aware."

She strokes your hair in a soothing manner and you almost drift off until she nudges you to tell something but you're already dismissing her off, "Don't even think of trying to do anything. I've just accepted my fate, I'll gradually move on."

Another week passes by and Wonwoo thinks he's ready to confront you. He had taken the entire office, everyone in his circle by surprise by taking an entire week off. Seungcheol being an amazing boss and understanding friend easily granted his request in the best hopes of having his friend clear the clouds clogging in his head.

Wonwoo sends you a text asking you to meet him whenever you're free. He clutches the phone tightly in his hands, feet tapping anxiously as he awaits your reply.

When he doesn't receive one after an hour, he's calling you only to be unanswered. Rationality leaving his bones, he keeps on calling your number until it gets recieved and it's an unfamiliar male voice answering the phone.

There's a sharp pang in his heart when he gets to know that it's your blind date who has picked up the call since the phone kept ringing and you've gone to washroom. Though he wants nothing but to rush to whenever you currently are, he curtly ends the call and decides to wait for your reply to his text.

His unwavering gaze directed towards the phone might have worked because he receives a response late at night and he's meeting you tomorrow.

You are unfazed, never once thinking about Wonwoo. That's what you try to tell yourself, that's how you plan to act in front of him. You don't anticipate his arrival at your apartment, that's partially true because you know you're gonna get heartbroken again because even though you want to tie the loose ends, you're sure he's only coming to cut them off wholly.

So you tell your mother who has been nagging you to get married to set you up for blind dates and this time you promised you'd seriously consider them with marriage perspective. Hence, today you're going to another date with someone you know this time and not at all impressed about.

The doorbell rings and you check the monitor to confirm that it's Wonwoo before letting him in.

"Are you going somewhere?", Wonwoo asks as he settles on the couch and you take a seat on the chair.

You nod, "Going on a date with Minjun."

Wonwoo's jaw clenches, his hands ball into fists as he asks, "Kim Minjun? He's a womanizer, Y/N. Didn't you go on a date yesterday?"

You scoff, "And how does that concern you anyway?", your lips curl up, "People can change after marriage."

Wonwoo short circuits at your verbal jab.

"Marriage? How can you even consider Minjun out of all people?"

Your expression turns grim when you say, "If I can't marry the person I love then marriage for me would be just another business deal, another merge to benefit the company, solidify our social status."

Trying to maintain the unbothered facade, you ask, "Why did you want to meet?"

"Why did you leave me alone in the bed?", Wonwoo asks toning down, "When you left, you took all of the warmth with you."

You suck in a sharp breath, breaking the eye contact.

"Within these two weeks I went through all sorts of possibilities from never acknowledging the fact that we slept to being a jerk, dismissing it as a simple hookup to letting you down subtly.", he gets up and walks up to you, crouching in front of you, "But as I pondered over, the only honest answer residing within my heart was not to be a coward anymore and be honest about my feelings, be honest with you."

Your heartbeat quickens, as his hands encase yours, you feel the warmth seep from him.

"I love you, Y/N.", Wonwoo confesses, "Like you, I have also harboured feelings for you for a long time. I cherish every moment we've spent together."

You're eyes go wide, heart constricting in chest. You feel your inners catapulting. You thought you know him all too well to give up upon the possibility of being together but witnessing him stripping bare in front of you is something you've always wanted but never expected to happen.

Wonwoo gently holds your face, voice soft, gaze emitting tenderness when he says, "I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for projecting my fears and insecurities upon you. But I have realised that you're worth everything and above. For you, I would fight the world if you allow me to stay by your side."

Rendered speechless, your teary eyes look at him with such anguish that it makes Wonwoo want to beat himself for breaking your heart over and over again.

Moments pass by and you both fall into comfortable silence. You're now seated on his lap, head laying his chest as he gently strokes your hair.

"It won't be easy.", you speak, head still downed, as your hand takes in his, entwining the fingers, "But I'd go to hell and back for you if time comes."

You shift back to look at him, "And I promise to be your shield, if anyone tries to hurt you or Wonseok, they'd have to face me first. I won't let anyone hurt you.", your gaze softens, "All of your worries, fears and sentiments are valid, Wonwoo. But it would be nice if you share them with me from now on because you're not alone, we're in this together. I love you."

Wonwoo swears he doesn't cry easily but your words seem to have opened the floodgates as his loud sobs echo throughout the house.

"Thank you.", he smiles as you wipe his tears and leans in to kiss you.

As your lips graze, the shrill ringing your phone startles you both. You grab it from the couch and the screen flashes Kim Minjun as the caller.

There's a sharp change in Wonwoo's expression as he takes the phone from your hand, putting it on speaker and answering it.

"Uh sorry, who's this speaking? Could you please get Y/N on the phone?"

There's a terse movement in the muscles of his jaw as Wonwoo responds, "I'm Jeon Wonwoo, Y/N's--", his gaze shifts at you, lips stretching in a smile, "Lover. I'm cancelling the date and please don't ever contact her again."

As soon as he hangs up, you tease him, "Lover huh? Since when?"

Wonwoo grins like he's drunk in love, he might as well be, "Since the day, you got drunk and danced on the tabletop after the semesters ended."

You gasp, "What do you want in exchange for deleting this memory?"

He's so lovesick, giggling cutely and being all touchy, "What about making new ones and keeping this one in my vault, sealed?"

Your heart flutters at the insinuation. True to your words, you'd surely fight the world to keep him with you.

And your lover chants all's well that ends well to ending up with you, gratefully with all his heart.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

[sunflowersunite]

Fantastic Beasts rewrite

I recently finished rewatching the third movie and I really really want to rant, but I don't like to be that person. So I'll do you one better, I'll just throw suggestions as to how this series could have been better. feel free to disagree or add your own.

Plot!

Magical animals still have many uses within the magical world, but no rights because we're in the 1920's. Show us how they're trafficked and exploited. Therefore, Newt could keep the spotlight as someone who wants to protect them as the series continues, and not have Dumbledore be protagonist, because he doesn't make for a compelling one all that much.

We already saw how the Quilin detects those who are pure of heart and determines the leader of the magical world. How about the Quilins are disposed of afterwards, for, I don't know, reasons. Superstition or custom. Maybe they make a new pelt for the leader. So Newt has to fight against that, and therefore he becomes more proactive.

Also the blood troth needs to be broken. That should have taken longer. How about only a specific very rare dragon's fire could burn it?? and therefore we use more of Newt's knowledge here??

2. Personal stakes. Unfortunately, there was no conflict between the heroes and the villains. Meaning, if Grindelwald did succeed in conquering the muggle world, none of the MCs would be personally affected. (not even Jacob, he could hide somewhere and he'd be fine, it's not like Grindelwald would look for him specifically). So, here's the deal:

because this is a fantastic beasts series, Newt remains the protagonist. So how about Grindelwald targets a specific magical creature, eg the aforementioned dragon, who is believed to not even be real? But Grindelwald has info that it is in fact real. Therefore he targets Newt, the only magizoologist, and the only one capable and determined enough to find it. He plans on striking Newt with all means necessary, have him running for his life from all governments. Framing him and targeting his animals just to get what he wants.

Also. Grindelwald wants Credence by his side, because of his Obscurial powers (which were hyped up in the first movie but then kinda deflated, unfortunately). It's easy to manipulate Credence, who's never had anyone care for him ever.

except Tina. Tina is canonically the one who Credence felt trust for. They could've become found family and I'll forever be angry about their wasted potential.

How about Grindelwald is aware that Tina is the one who could foil his plans and keep Credence on the good side due to their relationship, so he targets her specifically? He wants her out of the picture in order to manipulate Credence as much as he wants. He wants to kill her.

Tina fights him to save Credence and Newt fights him to save Credence and the animals.

Here! Grindelwald now has personal conflict with the main characters.

More conflict? Sure!

At the end of the third installment, instead of picking Dumbledore the Quilin picks Jacob, who is said throughout the whole movie to be pure of heart. (Let's say its powers work a little differently and it doesn't care whether it's a muggle it's picking because who ever tested it on muggles in the first place anyway?) How about it picks him, and as Grindelwald hates muggles, he now hates Jacob with a searing passion because the Quilin picked him as a ruler of the wizards? (exactly what he's against, mixing wizards and muggles). How about Grindelwald harbours animosity towards Jacob, not because he's a threat but because he symbolises what could beat Grindelwald? (a kind heart, one that both a wizard and a muggle could possess. and due to that common potential for goodness, which highlights that they aren't so different than the muggles, he gets even more passionate in his goal to eradicate them? just saying)

and let's have Queenie move to Grindelwald's side, that's interesting. Maybe they strike a deal when Tina is in grave danger (because as we said, Tina must die for Grindelwald to win). If Queenie joins him, Tina is safe, Grindelwald tells her (he's lying, but Queenie is desperate).

So Queenie has to choose between being with the man she loves and joining the wrong side of history (and possibly dying a monster), but saving her sister in the process.

She chooses the second.

the angst?? Queenie knowing she's doing the wrong thing but it's for the right reasons so now no one can convince her to return to the good side?? Not Tina, not Jacob, not anyone

Maybe she even becomes a spy, leaking Grindelwald's plans and putting herself in danger in the process.

And she tries to convince Credence to go back to the good side even if it's too late for her.

3. For the secondary characters:

Theseus still has power within the British Auror Office. He wants to use that power and counterattack, but for entirely selfish reasons. He hates Grindelwald for Leta's death and puts his own emotions before sensibility and the greater good.

Yusuf was never close with Leta and now he regrets it. He and Theseus both learn to heal together eventually, and Kama gets character development in the process because he felt rather flat.

I want Lally to be there too because I liked her. Maybe Theseus starts to catch feelings for her (am I delusional or did I sense some connection between them? idk) and he feels guilty, because he doesn't want to heal and move on from Leta. He wants to fuel his hatred for Grindelwald because he believes that that is what gives him the will and strength to fight. But eventually he realises that he won't beat him with hate, because Grindelwald is already perfect at hating others. He will beat him with love. (Cheesy but true). Any love. Between the brothers Scamander or the sisters Goldstein or the found family Tina - Credence or Newtina because I love them.

But Lally can do whatever she wants.

Honestly, that sounds pretty rad. I'd watch that movie.

[aeromore]

META META META META META META META META. Old art dump from earlier this year, more under the keep reading thing.

RIDER IS THERE. That's just really a secondary name for Stanley to keep track of the guys (there's three of them, that's also why they're numbered). I meant to finish this drawing and have Aleph (another narrator... Specifically number 2) respond to Meta and have PK (Stanley-2) stand next to him, but I didn't have a design for that guy at this current point in time and just left it unfinished. Also, I love Rider. Rider is lovely and very kind, I hope he suffers very much Soon.

Ditto. Ditto's just happy to be here, Meta less so. Hates being proven wrong, too. It is SO hard to choose whether he'd be a Ditto or a Meltan as a pokémon, considering you CAN spell Meta with the letters in Meltan. I eventually went with the latter and had Ditto be on his team, like a constant mockery of him. <- That's how HE sees it. Ditto couldn't care less and just wants to have fun. (Also, he shapeshifted those eyes into existence by the way, he does not usually have eyes under his glasses. LET THE GUY EXPRESS HIMSELF.)

Vitan. (Character belonging to @mct421 / @a-game-of-beginnings) Sorry, I had and still have a crush on this idiot but also he's a very lovely character, please check 'em out on the second @. Meta is reasonably upset/peeved/mad about me turning him into a vertical pancake and also making fun of him for ... a large variety of things. I'll just say he doesn't get treated the best out of my narrators (it's a cuteness aggression thing, and also i hate him (affectionately)). SO, I let it slide that he's making fun of me by shapeshifting into my F/O or crush or whatever he is. Whatever it is, I've proposed to him (VITAN) three times at this point because I either keep forgetting I did or I just want to recreate the scenario since it's funny.

SOMETHING ACTUALLY INTERESTING OF NOTE: When Meta shapeshifts, the eyes always have this green color (not the green in the drawing, that was a lazy doodle, the CORRECT color is #70A083) and the hair is silvery at the roots.

Dumb idiot flawed shapeshifter, couldn't be me. <- Could be me. Is me.

Dressed him up in silly outfits, some of which he hates and some that he is fine with.

Was bought Webfishing by a friend of mine back in October, so I pretty quickly whipped a little complementary drawing of Meta as a fish (nice callback) and @nonsensechemicals's settings person as a lil fish too ":o" (it's a callback to one of their drawings but I don't really have it on hand right now). The guy in the middle was my sona at the time, now they look different. YOU try being a shapeshifter and see how long you can last being on one look.

Silly shitposts and whatnot. I love Meta, my idiot blob son, slime-like thing. Thank you, Rider, for showing him that sick skateboard trick in the parking lot (press conference/elevator ending reference for Those Who Don't Know).

The second image is a screenshot taken from that one art instillation with the jiggling things whatever they are. <- Quickly looked it up, "Graceful Degradation", a kinetic installation by Harrison Pearce at the GNYP Gallery. Wouldn't wanna leave you guys at the edge of your seat wanting to learn what that was.

The third image is me and MrPizzaDraws on twitter drawing our Favorite Blob ever. Check Pizza out, he's cool, especially if you're someone from the Object Show Community or like art in general.

Fourth image.... Not much to say here. Meta as those sticky hand things. I call it handslops. And the fifth image is him being slop in a red plastic cup. Wonderful.

And at the very bottom is an actually proper and simple drawing of the guy, of course. IF... IF ANYONE HAS QUESTIONS ABOUT ANYTHING, feel free to click on that funny questionnaero button. I'd love to bestow knowledge. This is ALL a heavy work in process, so be patient if my answers aren't that great, haha.

And if you're wondering (because I sure am), the three parable thing is really an AU in all honesty, since that's not how the actual Stanley Parable is built up, to our knowledge, but I like having fun and still try keeping it close to game lore and whatnot. I just find it easier to understand the game if I break it apart into smaller pieces/people, hope that's relatable.

[avifaunaa]

how the world spins without you [ n.r. ] [ pt.3 ]

Authors Note: Welcome to the third installment to this series! To be honest with you guys I’m not entirely sure how long this series will be — I know it will have at least two more parts but after that it’s a guessing game. I hope you like it! Also like — remember when I said it’ll get softer? Yeah. Uh. That’s pushed back a chapter or two. Uh.

Masterlist

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR | PART FIVE

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: It’s been a year and a half altogether since your hiring at Stark industries and just a little over two years in which your relationship with Natasha began. However one of Natasha's old enemies resurfaces and plans on striking where it hurts the worst -- and it draws back memories for both Reader and Natasha and forces them to confront their fears.

Content Warnings: the fluff and angst that comes with this series but added in — stalking and discussions of a stalker, general feelings of discomfort and anguish, some splashes of BRIEF humor, arguments, brief violence and a cliffhanger

Word Count: ~5.2K

Breakfast was the most entertaining meal at the Avengers Compound in New York.

You say this with assured confidence and know-how because, at precisely 8:30 A.M. after FRIDAY has managed to set off the universal alarm that can’t be turned off thanks to Tony’s masterkey password being required, you see Earth’s Mightiest Heroes all clamber into the kitchen in differing states of wake and dress.

Steve Rogers for example — he always was dressed in his training uniform and bright-eyed as he greeted you and Nat by the coffee pot.

“He’s always awake by five at the latest,” your girlfriend mumbled around greasy bacon later when she caught you eyeing him suspiciously, “Why do you think Grandpa goes to bed at eight?”

Steve sipped his coffee and peered at Natasha with this sort of bemused expression, as if this was all to common of a comment made. “Early bird gets the worm, Nat.”

You could have sworn Natasha’s eyelid twitched but made the incredibly wise choice to leave it alone and instead refilled her coffee for her — a third cup, black, in less than twenty minutes. She only took her coffee one way at the Compound.

Tony was in a state of frazzled disarray likely brought on by too much caffeine and not enough sleep — a state in which you’ve experienced a few times since coming to work for him when Nat wasn’t around to stop it. Pepper was nearby and dressed in her finest pantsuit, hair done and makeup perfect as she dangled a tie from her wrist.

“Tony,” she called as her husband stole bacon from Clint’s plate and added it to his despite having some already. The man was in a rush, probably to get to his lab. “Tony stop. Your schedule is clear today until eleven. You have that board meeting with . . .”

The words faded out from listening point as Pepper followed Tony, eyes to the ceiling as she guided him to his office instead of the lab like initially planned.

“He stole my bacon.”

Your gaze then turned to the forlorn source of the words. Clint usually never stayed overnight at the Compound these days — he settled well with his family into the farm even after he was pardoned. He hung out with Natasha until the early hours in the morning — doing whatever it is the two do to bond.

Natasha had smelt of bonfire and whiskey when she returned, so you suspected they’d not gone very far at all.

He was in a large t-shirt and his boxers, eyes staring at the grease stains left behind where his bacon once was.

“My bacon,” he repeated, frowning.

Natasha deliberately crunched hard into one of her slices from where she sat between you and him without so much as turning her head to look at him.

You elbowed the ombré-haired spy in the flank, causing her to cough mid-swallow. “Serves you right,” you said as you leaned backwards and swiped some bacon from your plate and threw it on Clint’s behind Natasha.

“You’re evil,” she rasped rubbing at her upper chest and eyeing you. “I was just eating my breakfast.”

“Okay, sure,” you agreed in the tone that clearly reflected your opposite view, but you flashed her a teasing smirk to soften the blow as she scoffed at Clint digging into his gifted bacon.

“How do we turn off the eight o’clock alarm?” Sam asked as he shuffled tiredly in, Bucky right behind him. “I had to beat the shit out of some sorely underarmed terrorists yesterday and I didn’t appreciate having my well-earned sleep disrupted.”

Bucky grunted and shimmied around the man to cross around the counter and look at what was served this morning. He ignored the bacon, had browns, and fruit and chucked three spoonfuls of eggs onto his plate before exiting.

“Eggs only? What the fuck?” You said without really meaning to, mostly because that was a lot of eggs when there was other options offered.

“We listen, we don’t judge,” Clint said as he brandished his now empty plate and removed himself from his spot next to Nat.

You knew the words in which he mimicked from a trend and pointed an accusing finger at him.

“Why are you on TikTok? You’re too old for that, it’ll rot your brain,” you replied as you shoved your empty plate toward him too. He scowled at you but took it as if offended.

“My children,” he said in a way that implied it explained everything. “They want to get TikTok famous by showing me on their little videos. Do you realize how many messages my twelve year old has gotten about whether or not I’m still married?”

“Snipe them,” Natasha told him simply, obviously, “and then delete their accounts.”

“The — the weirdos or my kids?”

Natasha smirked at him.

Clint sighed heavily even as you tried to elbow Natasha again. But she seemed ready for such an act and grabbed you in a gentle but firm headlock and leaned her head down, grasping your chin, “You’re being bratty.”

You smiled at her to disguise the fact that you could feel your cheeks heating up at her intense gaze. She didn’t prod at you though, simply offered a peck and released you before getting to her feet. “Clint — I think I want to beat the hell out of you before you go home today.”

Clint sighed again. “Yes, Natasha.”

You were left with Sam and Steve — the two on complete opposite ends of the “awake” spectrum as you cleaned up the countertops you, Nat, and Clint used.

“We should go running,” Steve finally said, gesturing to Sam.

The Falcon in all his honor and glory slammed his coffee cup down and flipped Steve off — who in turn managed the most offended look you’ve ever seen.

“You’re buzzing.”

It was a short form sentence that you believed was intended not at you — maybe at Bruce who had joined you and Tony in the lab today after Tony had finished his meetings.

You let the comment slip away into the music that filtered through the overhead surround-sound system that Tony showed you once on the giant hologram control panel.

It’s taken you six months to completely figure out the settings for the music, you still have trouble pulling up detailed blueprints you upload into it via Friday sometimes.

Your degree was absolutely worthless in those moments, but even Tony waved you off and admitted to designing the panel and system himself and thus it doesn’t work in the way most technology of this caliber would.

It did make you feel better, admittingly.

The music suddenly cut off in the middle of the best part and you twitched, your hand-held laser machine cutting a heated indent into the machinery you were working on.

“Kid,” Tony said behind you when you stared longingly at the ruined metal as steam poured from the red-hot wound. “You’re literally buzzing.” He poked you where your phone was in your white jacket’s pocket.

“Oh. Oh shit.” You sit the laser down and fumble as Tony backs away with some sort of gun looking object swinging dangerously loose in his hand. “Sorry, Tony.”

He made a pew pew noise at you as he sauntered back to Bruce [ who was too ingrained in his work to care ], and responded, “Next time it happens, I take fifty bucks from your paycheck.”

“I’ll sic Natasha on you,” you threatened as you swiped up on your screen to see why your phone was blowing up in the first place.

If Tony had cracked back at you, it went upon deaf ears. The insistent nudging was a barrage of text messages sent from a contact labeled UNKNOWN with no phone number available when you checked.

You were mostly confused initially — you rarely got messages unless it was from Kate and Yelena, Natasha when she wasn’t with you and not on a mission. Even your number was scarcely used by the members of the Compound after you’ve given it to them. They preferred to speak through FRIDAY most days.

The contents of the first ten texts were photos and that is what had your heart dropping into the pit of your stomach as you scrolled down each one.

They were of you — and Natasha together sometimes — but mostly of you. Leaving the Compound, going on dates with Nat, they even have one of you two exiting the shelter with the new scruffy white kitten in your arms. You were beaming in the photo, completely oblivious to the eyes on you from a distance.

So was Natasha.

It made you think . . . Natasha was the most observant person you knew. She would switch sides with you on the sidewalk if she felt like there was something about to go wrong. Sometimes she was right [ Peter came crashing into the windshield of a car while the Green Goblin attacked him. Not even the suit Tony made him was holding up against this menace! ] and would get you to safety before joining in the fray.

But this time . . . This time each photo was taken she was completely unaware which made you wonder how well this person was at hiding among the crowd.

It scared you. You were scared and you only realized this when the photos started becoming hard to stare at as your hands shook under your phone.

You glanced behind you quickly but was relieved to see Tony and Bruce back in their own worlds amongst the technology.

You swiped down more and found no more photos, but actual texts.

The Widow cannot run from her past forever.

It will consume her like ashes over the world and once he has you, she will never again know the meaning of peace and her mind will never rest.

Happy hunting.

Three text messages all to the point -- and very matter-of-fact. Like whoever sent them knew they weren't going to be concerned about threatening a former assassin's girlfriend.

You swallowed the thick lump that shot up to your throat and decided to be logical about this. You emailed the texts to Natasha and hoped she checked it before you came home to your shared rooms that night.

Telling her could end in just as an easy disaster as keeping them from her. In the two years total you have known Nat, something she had made explicitly clear to you more than once is that any threats you get may not be as simple as an internet troll looking to ruffle some feathers.

This had been made entirely too clear when a close call had occurred right after you got hired by Stark and still lived in your own place. It had shaken both you and Natasha out of the feeling of unbreakable bliss.

She had found you a few days after the incident itself, slipping you a glass of wine while she sat an ice cold beer down on the coffee table untouched but open.

For a while the television was the only company you both kept -- then:

"I am . . . I have been meaning to talk more in depth with you about what it means to be with someone like me," Nat finally said leaning forward to grab the beer. It left rivulets of condensation on the glass table. "But I figured when . . . there's been a lot."

You paused the show you were not really watching to really show her you were listening. "You've told me what it means," you replied, not unkind but confused. The wine dangled half-drank in one hand. "We discussed it and I have had meetings with Pepper about--"

"No, Malysh," Natasha interrupts firmly. You took a second to take her in, the way she spoke and how . . . unsettled she was.

She clenched the bottle's neck so tightly she could break it if she wanted to. Her hair was still pulled up and windswept from returning from what she claimed was statements on your behalf to the court about the incident.

She hadn't wanted you near the damn thing -- and at the time you had let her take over with a fierce protectiveness and be your wall, your rock to lean on. You weren't harmed, but you had felt so violated and paranoid for days after that it was enough to leave a scar.

"What that was," she finally said, voice softening but filled with a pain that you could not describe, "that wasn't . . . that wasn't the worst of what could happen to people that get close top-leveled people like me, or Steve, or Tony. For me in particular, I have made twice as many enemies as most of the others have. My first life in Russia as their Widow and assassin and then my second chance here -- as an Agent of the U.S. government and a hero in the public eye."

You took a big gulp of your wine to hide your features shifting with your emotions. You still remember his face showing up at your door, forcing his way in, his breath hot and wet in your face --

"That man -- he wasn't one of those you said," you managed around the rim of the glass, sending a worried glance her way from a few feet away as you regained control of yourself. "You said that he -- he was someone who fit closer to the criteria of crazed fans."

"I did," she agreed. Her shoulders remained tight as she leaned back against the couch. "And that remains true. But we looked closely into what he had you read in front of him before sending it to me. The writing was in blood and there were some things contained in those letters that only could have been known if he was watching you and me together long enough."

The way he licked his lips, those beady eyes gleaming with anticipation as you opened the envelopes one-by-one and read each fucking letter.

Another swallow of wine and you locked away the memory and trauma that came with it.

"Yeah, well, he's probably enjoying life at Rikers instead."

"He didn't go to Rikers."

This made you pause again. Unable to hide your confusion or any other emotion -- your wine glass was empty. Instead you placed it tenderly on the side table and found another focus: Liho and Swayze swatting at one another in their cat tree,

"What do you mean," you said shakily after finding your voice, eyes locking with your girlfriend's, "he didn't go to Rikers? Where the fuck is he? Floating in space? Lost in the system? Do we even know if he's still imprisoned?"

You hadn't meant to be so sharp, nor did you intend to throw the accusatory tone at her in the same sentence. But your heart was racing faster than you could think which meant you couldn't think.

Natasha suddenly scooted closer to you and raised her hand in offer. You regard her for a moment but know you'd give in and need her touch. You link fingers with her and the warmth of her is like a coat of salve on a endlessly painful wound.

"He," she began as she settled into your side, finding her words, ". . . Do you remember when I brought you by before you got hired here? It was a short stay and you met Happy and Pepper. They had paperwork."

"I was on spring break," you acknowledge, nodding. You were in and out before you got a good look at anything, really, so you didn't consider it your first time at the Compound.

"Right. I told you everything we were having you sign," the Widow continued as her free hand started to trace designs lightly into the skin of your arm, "It was an NDA and paperwork that went with it in regards to the government bullshit."

You were still an anxious mess but you tried to draw some humor from what you could remember feeling about the situation. You sent Nat a weak smile, "Sure. Every time I signed my name on a line I felt like I was slowly giving pieces of my soul away to the government just so I could get into your pants and hold your hand." You let a pause fill the air for dramatics. "So worth it."

Her eyebrows shot into your hairline, perhaps impressed by your bold statement but snorting. "I see what I am to you." She stops to press the softest of kisses to your head, as if to soften a blow about to land, "So that NDA. It was in all that heavy packeted wording, but when you agreed to it the government, in turn, agreed to essentially view you as a protected asset under listed circumstances."

She let you mull over words for a moment and you tapped your fingers against the armrest. Maybe you should have read deeper than you actually did.

"What I'm getting from this is that I'm sort of . . . I'm sort of under some special security or whatever?"

"Kind of," Natasha agrees, fingers finally coming to a rest on your pulse. "After we did the required background check and got the paperwork squared away it pretty much meant that you became important to keep from any particular . . . attention. We did what we do with anyone who either works with our agency or is associated with us in some way -- we put a security AI detail on your name and information so that it can alert us if any of that is sought out and leaked. It became confidential the minute you signed and hiding it draws curious eyes on top of seeing me out with you more often."

"So my private information was pretty much zapped out of all existence and anything under my name is watched?"

Natasha nods. "Right."

"Okay," you drew out, scratching behind your ear. "This doesn't . . . what happened that made the dude find out who I was?"

"He didn't use the methods that most of these people do, he went off grid and used paranoia and "wait 'em out" techniques. He was someone I had knowledge about for a while but when I met you I stopped seeing him -- or perhaps I stopped looking over my shoulder." The vulnerability she was showing you right now was so . . . you didn't want her to be ashamed of it. Not for a second.

So you cupped her cheek and tilted her face to her. "You're not blaming yourself, are you? Because it's not your fault, Natasha. You deserve to live a life where you don't have to look over your shoulder every single second." She turned her face into your palm and kissed it so softly.

"I do blame myself," she admitted in a small voice, hiding in your comfort while finding shame in it. "It is very hard not to when he has been a shadow to me that I was used to but should have known would have grown."

"He wasn't using usual means you said," you repeated her words, frowning and stroking her cheek. "He was going to find out about me whether or not you forgot about him. If you hid me, he would've followed you to where you meet me."

"Logic and emotions don't compute together," she said quietly, closing her eyes. You allowed her this moment of silence and rest your head on top of hers, still cradling her head in one hand.

"He found you because I got sloppy," she finally told you.

"He found me because he was relentless and avoided ways of being caught -- he was smart in those regards. You weren't sloppy, he was just . . . he was just good."

Natasha released a breath you did not realize she had been holding. "I'm supposed to protect you -- being with me it comes with those . . . those dangers. If I even slip up once --"

"Then what?" you prod softly, searching her eyes.

Natasha didn't seem able to get the words out. You ran your fingers through her long hair. "Nat, we do this as a team. We're a pair. I know your instinct is to protect me and I love you so much for that. But I need you to know that protecting me doesn't mean it's your duty."

She curled deeper into you and you kissed her head again. "I want to protect you, too. I may not be able to fight the monsters you can -- but I know how to chase them away when you sleep and keep you safe when you come home. So just . . . don't worry when I'm with you. I know I have nothing to worry about. But also," you added, giving her a nudge, "you needn't worry when we're not together either. I have Iron Man."

She scoffed and pushed off of you, retrieving her beer but coming back to sit next to you and cuddle.

"You never said where he went," you told her an hour later, deep into Shark Tank. "The guy."

She lifted the beer to her lips, eyes still locked onto the screen and said, "He went to a place we take enemies of the State. A place that makes Rikers looks like daycare."

You would have tried feeling sorry for him if he hadn't broken your favorite mug on top of the whole 'writing letters to Natasha in blood and making her girlfriend read them' thing.

Natasha was pissed off when you returned at 9PM to your apartments, FRIDAY setting the smart alarm system automatically behind you after locking the door.

She was sitting cross-legged on the sofa with her glasses on in the dark and staring at her laptop. Hair braided but loosely undone, sweater and shorts plastered to her fit form.

"Should I be worried you have no lights on?" you mused as you dropped your back in the entry way and threw your lab coat on top of it before slowly starting toward her.

She sent you a frosty look.

You thought up all of the possible things that you could have done to incite this part of Nat. Usually it had to do with leaving work too late — but this morning you both agreed between 8:30-10:00PM.

Did you leave your shoes on?

You did a quick look down at your feet and — nope — you managed to off the tennis shoes into the hall outside the door before stepping inside like habit.

She had returned to her furious typing by the time you went over a particularly short list of things that you ensure you don’t do to piss off Natasha. She was slow to anger — especially with you. And if she was angry she would hide it until she was ready to discuss it at a calmer time.

So whatever you did really upset her and you can’t remember a damn thing about it. You breathed out through your nostrils and pulled up your big-kid pants as you slowly made a few steps over. Then stopped to ensure she still had space.

“Okay,” you start simply, sticking your hands into your jean pockets. “I think you’re going to have to tell me why you’re mad. I’m no dice on this one.”

She jammed her thump into the enter key and pointedly ignored you. Swayze wailed at you as she twined between your legs, a ball of thick white fur. Liho was not far behind — a dart of black in the dimly lit room.

“Natasha — Nat,” you tried as you bent down to scoop up your still wailing feline and sit down next to her on the couch. “Talk to me, please. I don’t like it when you glare at me like I’m the one in your interrogation room.”

She was slow to give you a reaction but she closed her laptop and covered the room in total darkness. Only then did she say, “FRIDAY, living room overheads, soft yellow.”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff.” The order was executed immediately, and the gentle glow lighting up Natasha’s features less harshly than the screen. She looked less hostile and more tired.

“When did you get those messages?”

You blinked, surprised by the question. Surprised only because you’d stupidly forgotten about the entire thing by burying yourself into your work to not have to confront those memories. “I — probably only like ten minutes before I sent them to you in the email.”

“Did you reply to them?” she asked evenly, eyes locking with yours. Green pierced you in a way that made you entirely too nervous.

“No, and I think you know that,” you said slowly. “What’s going on, Nat?”

“We got into your phone records,” the spy told you, resting her chin on her cupped hands and nudging her glasses back up her nose. “The number that messaged you is difficult to track and even one of my agents, Daisy, is struggling to get into this particular set of code that was encrypted into the photos. She’s one of our best, and she’s having problems with it.”

“I didn’t know that the photos were encrypted — they just sent normally like — I don’t know, photos.”

Her lips thinned. “Yes, we didn’t expect you to know which is unfortunately why the problem had gotten worse.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked quietly. Your hands no longer stroked along Swayze’s coat, and the cat had wiggled from your grasp after sensing the tension.

Natasha broke her gaze. “Nothing — it meant nothing. All I’m saying is that your phone isn’t safe anymore. They likely were able to sneak through your phone’s security and into all the private information you have stored. Empty the phone. We need to destroy it.”

You rubbed your face and sagged into the cushions, overwhelmed with the coldness Natasha exuded and how she seemed to treat you like you were a civvie and not her partner.

“. . . now, Y/N.” She turned her head away from you as she stood up, glasses removed and went into your shared bedroom.

“So I’m on first-name basis now?” you muttered as you dug into your bag and scrounged around until you came through your phone. You tossed it on the coffee table and stalked into the room.

“Why are you acting like this?”

Natasha was fidgeting with something on her Widow suit. She only did that if she had a mission coming up — and she would usually take the suit down to the armory to restock her belt and pouches.

She let you wallow in the silence besides the rustling of fabric and zippers before she said, “I don’t know how you think I’m acting.”

You crossed your arms. “Okay assassin-spy-superhero-watchdog,” you told her sarcastically, tensing up when she shot you a glare. “You’re being an ass. This is not normal behavior.”

“I’m perfectly fine and it’s just been busy at S.H.I.E.L.D. lately. I’m stressed,” she excused, throwing the suit down on the bed and turning away from you. “Are you tired? You worked late tonight.”

“Natasha I’m not tired enough to not talk to you,” you tried, moving forward. “This is weird. You don’t —“

“I need you to just—“ Natasha looked up and finally, finally, met your gaze again. “—just stop assuming something’s wrong. You’re okay.”

“I’m not the one worried I’m not okay!” You burst, arms flying into the air over your head. “You’re behaving weirdly.”

She clenched her jaw and skimmed past you into the other room, and you stood there in shock at the sudden change your partner was having in attitude.

She was closing down, locking the doors and windows. Your throat was starting to close when you realized how distant and cold she was becoming — and you feared it had to do with everything on the phone she found.

Did the findings spook her? Did the anger at being caught unaware by another person anger her to the point of shutting you out?

You didn’t think you would be getting an answer.

“I’m going to — I need to leave,” you breathed when you found her in the weapons closet in the hall. Despite the armory, she still kept her own stash and you laughed when you first saw it.

“What?” This seemed to get a rise out of her as she stood. Her eyes flickered with a hint of something — but it was so brief that you believed you imagined it. “No, with that text I would be more comfortable if you stayed here.”

“Natasha whatever’s going on is making me uncomfortable,” you snapped, pushing down the lifting sense of doom at the look on her face. “You’re not talking to me. You’re literally — I don’t know what’s going on but I feel like I came home to a weird scene of the Twilight Zone.”

Natasha hesitated as she set her gun carefully back into the case. “Listen, I need you to trust me. I know I’m not giving you answers but I have a reason. I wouldn’t — this is —“ her hands were trembling.

You closed your hand around hers as you got on your knees in front of her. “You’re panicking and shutting down on me. This is not usual for you, Nat. I trust you with my life but I need to understand what’s triggered this behavior.”

She glanced behind you, around the both of you, nervously. Her throat bobbed as she moved her hand until it encased yours in a firm grip. “I know who this might be and I believe it’s connected to the previous incident.”

“But you said the guy was pretty much in a pit,” you replied softly, keeping your anxiety at bay to keep Nat calm. Though you know Nat wouldn’t freak out if you did — she took your panic in stride.

“He is but I don’t think he was the one I should have worried about,” she admitted with a strained tone. For the first time you saw tears start to mist over her eyes. “I think he was — I think he was used to keep me busy.”

“From what?” you encouraged, stretching forward and grabbing her face. “Natasha if you know who’s doing this then you need to get yourself protected, not me. They’re only using me.”

“You don’t understand, my love,” Natasha murmured, forehead resting solidly against yours. “They’re using you but will absolutely kill you. This is an old enemy — but recent enough that they still seek me out.”

“Who could possibly want you dead this badly that isn’t already rotting in the grave?”

Before she could give you the response you wanted, something sharp and pricked suddenly and silently hit your side. Natasha pulled back and grabbed your shoulders.

Her eyes flicked behind you to the large, floor to ceiling windows that faced the forest that surrounded the Compound and realized there was a hole in the glass.

And then something shattered the windows into dust as she threw herself over your body.

Reader and Natasha will return in part four

PART FOUR

[iwritethingssometimes]

I'm seeing some posting about a feeling of fishiness about the recently completed US Election.

In the attempt to do something more productive than my last post, I'm gonna do an adhoc examination of how feasible I think a "rigged election" actually is, looking at a few methods that could have been used. So, to start with, what is the actual evidence here?

Most of it is... honestly vibes based, which I get, but don't put a lot of stock in, There was a lot of energy around the Harris campaign, and she had some good polls, but Donald Trump has proved nothing else in the past fucking decade, its that the polls literally do not matter for him, and he can outperform them by a hundred miles.

But. There's also some numbers.

None of this has been verified yet, and I want to make that clear, but this year has largely reported record turnout in a ton of states, especially the swing states, and yet, so far.

The number of votes seems much lower this year.

Not republican votes, not democrat votes, all votes. Hell, third party voting collapsed this year--whatever else you take from this election, this was not a case of the left splitting the vote.

Now, it's true that the vote count hasn't been completed, and it's possible that the numbers will make more sense once that's done. It's also true that the states didn't have quite the same turn-out as last year... but it was only a percentage point or two lower.

Add that to the frequent postings about people having their ballots rejected for... questionable reasons, and.

Well. It starts going from a "the moon is fake!" conspiracy to "Epstein had sex slaves" conspiracy.

But, okay, is it even possible for Trump to have faked the vote like this? People talked about it, but it was mostly in terms of legal challenges trying to overturn a Harris victory, or pulling in the supreme court to decide narrow districts. This, by all accounts, seems to be a straight forward Trump sweep.

So if there is shenanigans afoot, how could he have done it?

There's three feasible(ish) pathways, in my opinion:

Voter suppression and manipulation pre-ballot: Yeah this happened. It's also irrelevant to any possibility that the vote counts were tampered with. Look, this election was flooded with misinformation, legal suits, court cases, and election officials doing everything in their power to fuck with people's right to vote. It was filled with ballot boxes being lit on fire. Elon Musk did a fucking paid vote scheme! Of course there was voter suppression! But there always is, and although it was worse this year than many others, it wouldn't cause any numerical mismatch between turn out and votes, and there's not much that can be done now for this election. Even if someone voted because Musk slipped them $100, no court will ever be able to prove they didn't just happen upon $100 bucks and then voted for Trump.

Voting machines were manipulated: A few hours ago I would have said this was practically impossible, but apparently a bunch of election officials and cyber-security experts were sounding the alarm about this a few months ago, so, uh. That being said, I've seen people claiming that Starlink or whatever hacked voting machines, and no. No, Starlink did not hack voting machines. No one "hacked" voting machines. They weren't connected to the internet, or any wireless communication systems, because anyone with any degree of cybersecurity knowledge will tell you that's how you create an insecure system. Now, it's not impossible, technically speaking, than Elon Musk or fucking Russia managed to hire engineers and somehow bribe enough officals to get access to the machines and install hardware that would allow external access, but in that case we live in a Bond movie and somehow have bigger problems. So, if the voting machines themselves were compromised in any technological way, it would have required direct, physical access, which should be basically impossible, unless...

Ballot officials fucked with the vote This is the one I think is plausible. Basically, in this case, what could have happened is that various election officials at different levels of the process more or less lied about the vote count. This could have happened in a lot of different ways--they could have found reasons to reject mail-in ballots, which several states attempted to make legal, they could have found reasons to reject in-person ballots, which several states attempted to make legal. They could have, if the corruption ran deep enough to make this feasible, just... not counted or reported votes that swung for Harris. They could have, if the election machines work similar to the ones up here in BC, seen the results from the machines, then called the central election office over the phone--because remember, the ballot boxes should not be connected to anything. I don't know. There's a lot of options, and it varies from state to state, because remember, each state runs their own elections, and has their own rules and procedures.

So yeah, three explanations, only one of which is really plausible.

Now, I want to be clear, I don't think this election was fraudulent. Not yet, at least, I need to see actual evidence, or this is nothing more than a theory, but I also want to be clear.

...3 makes sense.

3 would explain why urban areas seemed to be underrepresented in this election, while rural areas surged. 3 would explain a discrepancy between voter turn out and votes counted. 3 would fit the strategy Trump and MAGA loyalists have been describing for the last four years, of infiltrating the election machinery and manipulating it to their own ends.

So I'm not saying it's likely that Trump fucked with the vote, not without evidence. Not yet.

But I will say this looks a hell of a lot more plausible than any claims made in the aftermath of the 2020 election.

[celestial-prime]

Sonic 4 movie. Theories and predictions

Hello everyone! I finally watched Sonic 3, and I can confidently say it was one of the best experiences I’ve ever had in a movie theater! It had been such a long time since I felt so much emotion and joy watching a film. The last time I experienced these feelings was with Michael Bay’s Transformers movies, especially the fourth and fifth installments. Just like back then, when I was super excited for the next movie, I now have the same anticipation for the fourth Sonic movie.

In the post-credits scene, we saw the first appearances of Metal Sonic and Amy, which already gives us a taste of the continuation of the Sonic live-action franchise. That’s why I’d like to share my theory about what might happen in the next movie and which game from the Sonic saga it might adapt.

AND... Just as Sonic 1 was an adaptation of the first classic game, Sonic 2 represented the second game, and Sonic 3 was based on Sonic Adventure 2, I believe the fourth movie will also follow this adaptation formula.

My idea is that the fourth movie will be inspired by two games: Sonic CD, where Metal Sonic makes his first appearance, and Sonic Heroes, where Metal Sonic becomes the main antagonist. In Heroes, he evolves into Neo Metal Sonic and later into Metal Overlord, the final boss. I believe the concept of time travel, central to Sonic CD, could be key to the plot of the next movie.

Now, let’s dive into the possible plot of the fourth movie and how the story might unfold.

Probably, Metal Sonic came from the future and returned to the past with the goal of defeating Sonic, driven by frustration at never being able to defeat him definitively. In turn, future Amy, upon discovering Metal Sonic’s plan, decides to also travel to the past to protect him. This could explain the post-credits scene where we see Amy hooded.

This raises some important questions: How did Amy know where Sonic would be, and how did she know who he was? The most logical answer would be that, in the future, Sonic and Amy eventually meet, and she decides to go back in time to save him. Another key point of the potential plot would be the origin of Metal Sonic. After all, who created him, considering that Dr. Eggman died in the ARK explosion in the third movie? While Shadow survived because he’s practically immortal, Eggman is just a regular human, making it extremely unlikely that he escaped.

With that in mind, here are some possibilities regarding Metal Sonic’s creation:

Agent Stone as the Creator:

Stone, loyal to Dr. Eggman, could create Metal Sonic as a way to avenge his mentor’s death. This would continue Stone’s arc, showing how he seeks to keep Eggman’s legacy alive.

G.U.N. and Director Rockwell:

Another possibility is that Director Rockwell, who showed distrust toward Sonic and his team, decides to create Metal Sonic. After the events of the third movie, where the planet was nearly destroyed, she might use Metal Sonic as a weapon to eliminate Sonic, believing that he and his team are too uncontrolled.

Eggman as the Original Creator:

There’s also the possibility that Dr. Eggman created Metal Sonic a long time ago, perhaps after returning to Earth at the beginning of the second movie. However, due to the humiliation he suffered when defeated by Super Sonic, he might have abandoned the use of Metal Sonic and kept the project stored along with other copies. These copies could have been activated later, continuing the storyline.

Any of these options could fit well into the fourth movie’s plot, depending on how the writers choose to proceed with the narrative.

Even though the three movies so far have adapted elements from the game franchise—two from the classics and one from the modern games—they contain many original elements. For example, Sonic’s origin was adapted for the movie, and the story takes place on Earth, not on his home island or planet of origin. Additionally, the Master Emerald wasn’t found on Angel Island but on Earth, and Shadow didn’t live on the ARK in space but also on Earth. So, it’s likely that the fourth movie will also introduce original elements while incorporating important aspects inspired by Sonic CD and Sonic Heroes.

Now, here’s my idea of how the fourth movie’s plot could unfold:

Just like in the second and third movies, Amy could appear after the movie starts, similar to how Tails was introduced in the second movie and Shadow in the third. The movie would likely begin with an introduction to Sonic and his team.

After the boys (Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles) decide to organize another friendly race, Sonic gets too far ahead and ends up in New York City. This becomes even more confusing due to the time difference since he, Knuckles, and Tails live on the other side of the United States with Tom and Maddie. It’s at this point that Metal Sonic and Amy enter, as hinted at in the post-credits scenes.

After Sonic is attacked by Metal Sonic and saved by Amy, he’s full of questions. He wants to know who she is, how she knows his name, and how she knew where to find him. His questions are similar to those he asked Knuckles and Tails when he met them. Amy then explains that she came from the future to help him defeat Metal Sonic once and for all.

With no other choice, Sonic decides to take Amy home. There, he introduces her to the rest of the team, and they begin discussing what’s happening. Amy explains that she came from the future to warn him about Metal Sonic and save him. She details Metal Sonic’s origin, explaining that he’s after Sonic to defeat him once and for all since he couldn’t win in the future. That’s why she followed him to the past, both to warn Sonic and help him in his mission.

With this information, Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, and Amy decide to form a team to face Metal Sonic. However, upon realizing that their enemy is extremely powerful, Sonic concludes that the only way to defeat him is by using the Master Emerald again to transform into his Super form and destroy him once and for all.

However, there’s a problem: at the end of the last movie, Sonic 3, Sonic lost his Super form while preventing a global catastrophe. During that moment, Shadow was also in his Super form but stayed behind after the final explosion. This caused the Chaos Emeralds to scatter across Earth due to the impact. Now, Team Sonic must gather the Emeralds again to have any chance against Metal Sonic.

Meanwhile, G.U.N. also steps in. After the events of the third movie, the organization begins questioning how Sonic and Shadow were able to prevent such a large-scale catastrophe. They eventually discover the existence of the Chaos Emeralds and, upon understanding their immense power, decide to locate them to keep them "safe." After all, the Master Emerald is seen as an extremely dangerous weapon, capable of turning a person into something close to a god.

This is where Rouge enters the story. As a G.U.N. spy, she’s sent to locate the Chaos Emeralds before Team Sonic. This sets up a race between both sides: Team Sonic needs the Emeralds to save the world and defeat Metal Sonic, while G.U.N. wants to capture them to prevent them from falling into the wrong hands (even though, for Sonic, that includes themselves).

This intense competition between Sonic and his team against G.U.N. adds a layer of tension and urgency to the film, especially since both sides have legitimate motivations for wanting the Emeralds. However, G.U.N.’s belief that Team Sonic isn’t trustworthy might spark conflicts and tense moments between them.

During this race to recover the Chaos Emeralds, Metal Sonic comes into play. He ends up encountering both sides—Team Sonic and G.U.N.—leading to a major battle among everyone, adding more tension to the plot. At this point, Shadow, who still holds a grudge against G.U.N. for what they did to Maria, temporarily joins Team Sonic. His main motivation is to prevent G.U.N. from keeping the Chaos Emeralds, as he believes the organization doesn’t deserve that power.

Since Shadow has a direct connection to Chaos energy, similar to what we saw in Sonic Heroes, Metal Sonic manages to obtain one of Shadow’s quills. He uses the power contained in it to amplify his abilities and eventually evolves into Neo Metal Sonic. By combining Shadow’s power with the Chaos Emeralds, Metal Sonic reaches his final form: Metal Overlord, the final boss in Sonic Heroes.

However, before this happens, G.U.N. manages to capture the Chaos Emeralds, putting them temporarily ahead in the race. At this moment, Rouge, true to her nature as a jewel thief, betrays G.U.N. She steals the Emeralds, but her escape doesn’t go as planned. She soon realizes the situation becomes critical when Metal Sonic, now more powerful, begins transforming into his primitive forms, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake.

Seeing no other choice and recognizing that Team Sonic is the only hope to defeat Metal Sonic, Rouge hands over the Chaos Emeralds to them. With the Emeralds in hand, Team Sonic activates the Master Emerald’s power, allowing Sonic to once again transform into his Super form. With this power, Sonic faces Metal Overlord in an epic final battle.

Shadow’s role at this moment remains uncertain. He might join Sonic in his Super form, as he did at the end of Sonic Adventure 2 and Sonic Heroes, or he might choose not to intervene directly. Regardless, this battle serves as a major climax for the film, bringing both classic and original elements to the story.

Although the previous films have adapted elements from the games, they’ve also added their own unique ideas, and it’s likely the fourth film will follow the same trend. The movie universe, after all, is separate from the games’ universe, giving the writers creative freedom to develop new stories and explore different dynamics between the characters.

Regarding Shadow’s presence in the fourth film, I believe he’ll play a key role, as his connection to Chaos energy is crucial for Metal Sonic’s transformation into Metal Overlord. Shadow’s involvement would also be an opportunity to further explore his relationship with his past and G.U.N., as well as strengthen the dynamics within the movie universe.

Introducing Rouge, hired by G.U.N. to steal the Chaos Emeralds, would be an excellent way to bring the character into the cinematic universe. This initial role, where she infiltrates as a spy and later betrays G.U.N., demonstrates her cunning and independence while establishing her motivations. By the end of the movie, Rouge could team up with Shadow and Agent Stone to form the famous Team Dark, opening doors for future storylines.

As for Omega, his introduction would be a bit more complicated. However, one possibility could be Agent Stone reactivating one of Dr. Eggman’s old robots, as Omega was originally created by Eggman to serve as a guardian and companion. This idea would fit well with the theme of reclaiming Eggman’s legacy in the movie, but his presence would need to be carefully balanced to avoid overwhelming the story.

Introducing too many characters in the fourth movie could be a challenge. While it’s exciting to expand the cast, it’s essential to keep the story’s main focus: the showdown between Metal Sonic and Sonic. In the first three movies, new characters were introduced in a balanced way, always keeping Sonic at the center. This balance ensured that Sonic’s protagonism remained intact, even with the addition of significant figures like Tails, Knuckles, and Shadow.

Therefore, while Rouge and Shadow’s presence seems essential, adding more characters like Omega could be challenging without diverting attention from the main plot. It’s important that the movie continues to highlight Sonic as the main hero, ensuring that new additions complement the story rather than overwhelm it.

The dynamic between Sonic and Amy in the fourth movie could indeed follow a friendship and camaraderie approach, similar to what we saw in the Super Mario Bros. animated movie. Just as they portrayed Princess Peach as a strong and independent warrior alongside Mario, Amy could be presented as a powerful and strategically important ally, without forcing a romantic relationship between her and Sonic.

Although Amy is traditionally Sonic’s romantic partner in the games and series, SEGA has already clarified that their relationship isn’t canon. This decision reinforces the creative freedom to adapt the character in the cinematic universe while maintaining the individuality of both characters. Sonic, with his adventurous and carefree personality, would hardly fit into a romantic role in the movies, as it could shift focus from his journey as the protagonist.

In the movie, Amy could be presented as someone who shares the same goals as Sonic, fighting alongside him and his team against threats like Metal Sonic. The post-credits scene of the third movie already gave us a glimpse of her combat skills and confidence, highlighting her iconic hammer as her weapon. This suggests her presence in the fourth movie will be more as a warrior and strategic ally rather than a character dependent on Sonic or hopelessly in love with him.

This approach also creates a more modern and inclusive dynamic for the audience, showing that a female character can be equally strong and independent without being defined by a romantic relationship. A deep friendship and mutual respect between Sonic and Amy could strengthen the development of both characters while maintaining the adventurous and lighthearted tone that characterizes the franchise.

Finally, let’s talk about the possible post-credits scenes of the fourth movie, which always leave clues for the next chapter in the franchise. Since it’s been confirmed that the fourth movie won’t be the last—the idea is to create a quintology (five movies) and not a sextology—it’s very likely that the post-credits scenes of the fourth movie will introduce a new character or hint at the plot of the next movie.

One of the strongest speculations among fans is the possible appearance of Silver the Hedgehog in the post-credits scenes. This would make perfect sense since Silver is a central character in the Sonic the Hedgehog 2006 game, whose storyline revolves around time travel. Just as Amy and Metal Sonic are essential to the plot of the fourth movie, introducing Silver in the post-credits scenes would be the perfect bridge to address the plot of Sonic 2006 in the fifth movie.

Silver could appear from the future, on a mission to alter past events to save the chaotic future he came from. His arrival would bring new dynamics to the story and expand the Sonic cinematic universe, exploring themes like fighting to change destiny and the challenges of time travel.

However, I prefer not to delve into theories for the fifth movie just yet, as the fourth movie hasn’t even been released. I think it’s better to wait for the official release of the fourth movie to understand the clues they’ll leave behind and then develop more solid theories about what to expect in the fifth film.

And that’s it, everyone! This is my theory for the fourth Sonic movie. I know some ideas might seem a bit out of the box, but as we’ve seen in the first three movies, they don’t exactly follow the stories from the games. There are many original additions and changes to fit the Sonic universe into the cinematic narrative, and I believe the same will happen in the next film.

If you’ve read this far, thank you for reading my theory! Now I’d like to know your opinion: what do you think might happen in the fourth movie? Share your ideas, and let’s keep this conversation going! :)

[mockerycrow]

I bet Gaz likes to try and sleep in with you, like he wakes up early but groans and grumbles and buries his face into your neck (he likes hearing you laugh when he does it)

Soft Moments: Gaz Edition (GN!Reader)

gaz masterlist

The third installment of my mini soft moments series <3 Ghost will be next. Ialso, friendly reminder to support the cod gif creators of the fandom, like yumethefrostypanda above!! gifs get stolen too easily. pls pls pls go support them.

consider buying me a ko-fi? no pressure, i’m new to this but i gotta pay for college 😵‍💫

[WARNINGS: Fluff!!]

Kyle has been in the military for a bit now, so his routines are engrained in his brain. Even as he’s on temporary leave, he struggles to break out of the routine he’s followed for years—and that includes the time when his body naturally wakes him up, which is always earlier than he would like, especially because he spends nearly all of his time on leave with you. Kyle also wears a watch that vibrates at a certain time in the morning to assure he’s up, and it often wakes you up as well as you two are often intertwined together in bed. Kyle’s eyelids flutter for a moment before he awakens, bright and early at 5 AM like usual. It takes him a moment to realize he’s awoken, but he quietly groans and tugs your body closer to his as he doesn’t want to get up.

He inhales quietly and deeply, your scent filling his lungs that nearly puts him back to sleep. Your head is stuffed under his chin and into his neck, and he feels your hands shuffle and move under his shift, limply resting against his bare back. Kyle loves the pressure of your body pressing against his, it’s comforting and relaxing, especially when he holds his breath to feel your chest expand against his. Instead of being back at the barracks, waking up wrapped in a cheap, thin blanket—being with you feels like a luxury. Kyle glances at his watch— 5:12 AM. 18 minutes until 5:30, 18 minutes until his watch begins to buzz. Kyle huffs and shuffles down the bed to switch positions with you, so he’s leaning his head against your chest instead of the other way around.

He closes his eyes, might as well try to get some rest, right?

…

He isn’t sure if he actually fell asleep or not, but within the next moment that he’s aware of—his watch begins to vibrate. Kyle groans and you stir awake, soft “mhh” leaving your lips. He quickly turns off the vibrating alarm on his watch and he rubs his face into the crook of your neck, clearly upset about both waking you up and keeping himself up. “Kyle..” You whisper, your voice hoarse from being awakened from your deep sleep. Your hand comes up and cups the nape of his neck, your thumb brushing against his skin. Kyle melts and hums in response before he mutters, “Go back to sleep, love.”

You slowly inhale and you stretch your body out, your lower body trembling for a few seconds as your ears block out some noise. “I don’t wanna,” You rasp. “Not when I get to see you like this.” Kyle’s felt his face burn and he lets out a weak laugh, gently pinching the back of your neck in an attempt as retaliation, but in reality it just massages the nape of your neck. He tries to shush you but you hum over his noises before you whisper, “You’re so cute like this. Especially when your third alarm goes off.. Which will be soon, hm?”

Kyle can’t stop himself from smiling, but he certainly tries to keep it a secret as he buries his face harsher against your neck and your shoulder, muttering “stop” in a lighthearted tone. Your other hand that isn’t touching his neck goes to his back, and you run your fingertips up and down his back, sending a nice shiver up his spine that melts through into his bones. “You don’t need to get up so early, y’know?” You whisper, pressing a kiss against his head—or at least to where you could reach. Kyle grumbles and shifts a bit, his eyes remaining shut as he begins to feel tired once again. “You also know I can’t help it, sweetheart.” He responds, his voice gritty as he begins to welcome sleep once again. You only chuckle in response, and you don’t talk after that as you can tell he’s finally falling back asleep, which is extremely rare for him. You continue to run your fingertips up and down his back.

He lets out a soft snore.

“And why don’t you look at that? You’re asleep.” You whisper, barely audible. He doesn’t stir so you kiss his head again, and close your own eyes, allowing yourself to enjoy this moment with Kyle pressed against you.

[bring-backup-99]

Before It Gets Too Late

PAIRING: tech x fem reader

SUMMARY: You spend a fun and special day with Tech, starting with a flying lesson that takes an unexpected turn. There’re fluffy times but mostly sexy times. (I’m trying to support and comfort my Tech people during this dark period.)

WORDS COUNT: 1926

RATING + WARNINGS: 18+, very spicy, porn with minimal plot, PiV, rough sex, probably bad flight mechanics

NOTES: This is installment twenty-two of my reverse harem “Bad Choices” smutlet series on Ao3, but I think it’s also a nice stand-alone Tech story. Although it’s written in second person, my heroine has a very established relationship with the Batch.

Everything was going fine until a large flock of flying creatures shot out of the canopy in a wide column directly into the ship’s path. You were too close to simply fly around them, and every other usual option you could think of would leave hundreds of them dead and the ship with possible light damage.

So without a second thought, you killed the thrusters while sending the ship in a tight turn, the nose pointed at the column. A quick tap of the port thruster has you cleared of the animals, with what you hoped were minimal casualties, then you reinitialized the main thrusters and resumed your disrupted flight path.

For a full minute, there was silence to your left. Finally, “It appears that flying lessons were unnecessary.”

“That was never the question,” you hedged. “You asked if I would like you to give me lessons. You didn’t ask if I knew how to fly. I answered honestly.” And this was your third time out.

“But with a glaring omission,” Tech huffs at you.

“Don’t be angry at me. I was very curious as to how you would be as a flight instructor, and I would not have received the same response if you had known.” What you do know is that this is logic he won’t be able to argue with.

He hmphs at you again, but you can tell he’s not really upset.

“That was an interesting maneuver you performed.”

“A modified ‘Tech turn.’ Seemed like the best option for minimizing death and destruction.” You pause for a moment, then you look at him. “It can’t be, right? The ‘Tech turn’…” You trail off as you see the corners of his lips turn up to an actual smile.

“That is not what it is called.”

“I’m going to fuck your so hard as soon as we land.”

“I was contemplating something similar.”

He doesn’t take the controls from you, but you sit quietly for a while.

“I’m not great at mechanics. You could teach me that?” you offer.

“Specifically define ‘not great’,” he asks.

“I definitely couldn’t fully repair this ship, but I am unable to give you a rundown of which systems I am deficient in. That’s the best I can do.”

“That…is acceptable.”

*

Almost as soon as the ship touches down in the tree-lined clearing, you are on each other. He lets you push him back down in his pilot’s chair, straddling him while your lips devour his with kisses. You groan in frustration as you try to divest him of his various layers of clothing, but you’re too eager and your fingers can’t find all the buckles and straps.

Want. Need. They course through you. You need his skin against yours. Finally, he takes pity, gently stops your fumbling, and slowly removes all the items covering his torso, your desperate whimpering doing nothing to hurry him. Then he lifts off your shirt. Your bodies crash together again. He kisses along your neck, down to your breasts, cupping them, licking your nipples. You throw your head back and cry out, your hands stroking over his head and neck; then fingernails scrape down his back, feeling his taut muscles.

“Against the wall,” you groan. Moments later, you’re both naked, and your back is to the one bare metal plate in the cockpit. Tech drops to a knee in front of you, places your leg over his arm, and targets your clit in a focused and aggressive attack.

“Fuck! FUCK!” you scream as, mere minutes later, you come. And then he lifts you, burying himself deep inside you, pounding into you, your pussy still twitching in pleasure.

Every rough, hard thrust is accompanied by his grunts, and you loudly proclaim your satisfaction, your voice echoing through the ship. You want Tech to do this, need him to do this, to take his pleasure from your willing body. He captures your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand, his other hand gripping your ass, fingers pressed into your flesh, pinching, bruising. He kisses you, mauling your lips, and when he breaks away, you sink your teeth into his shoulder.

He gasps, releasing your wrists, and takes a strong hold of your ass and thighs, angling you for deeper, feral thrusts. Your arms encircle his neck and shoulders. You want him like this, desperate for you, as if no one else could give this to him. An animalistic groan emanates from him as his cock ravages you until finally a full throated cry signals his climax and he holds himself deep inside of you, and you feel his hot cum pump into you.

Neither of you move, the only sounds your gasping breaths as you each try to take in enough air.

“Mmmm,” you finally manage. “That was excellent.” You smile, then lick a drop of sweat from his neck.

“Yes,” he says, a slight gleam in his eye, “Quite satisfactory.”

* You lie in a bunk together, your head on his shoulder, a hand idly stroking his chest.

“Why did you not disclose to me that you did not need flying lessons? Your skill level is clearly quite adequate.”

You suck in your breath. I wanted to spend time with you outside of my bedroom. I wanted to know who you are when we’re not fucking. I wanted to be on this ship with you when you could be focussed on me. I wanted… So many wants, as if you can’t be happy with what you have.

“It’s been a long time since I flew. I wasn’t sure that I didn’t need them…at least as a refresher.” You hesitate. “Are you angry at me?...slightly perturbed?

“I am not. And at least they were not a waste of time.” His fingers run up and down your arm.

“No,” you agree.

Tech looks down at you, watching your hand move along his skin. You have not asked him why he offered to teach you, which is for the best. Tech is worse at articulating his wants than you are.

*

You wake up alone in the bunk. It’s been awhile since the person you’d fallen asleep with wasn’t still beside you. The ship is dark, so it must be night. You get up, the floor cold under your feet, expecting to find Tech in the cockpit.

Instead, a drop-ladder is down from the midship overhead storage space.

“Tech?” You call up.

“Ah, you are awake,” you hear him say. “I was just coming down to collect you. Come up here.”

“Um, I’m naked?” You look around for your clothing and see nothing.

There’s a long pause. “It appears that I am nude as well…I do have blankets.”

You sigh and tentatively climb the ladder, then follow Tech’s voice to a maintenance hatch with another ladder that lets you out onto the ship’s fuselage. He takes your hand and leads you to where he’s laid out a large blanket over the cockpit. You feel awkward even though the warm night air is quite pleasant on your skin.

“What’s this all about?”

Tech helps you down onto the blanket, then points up. “The moons have just set, so we should have quite an excellent view of the Quadrillen meteor shower. I believe you expressed dissatisfaction with your ability to see this from the city.”

You look up and, after a few moments, you watch a meteor blaze across the sky. You hadn’t mentioned that you wanted to watch this to Tech. You and Crosshair had been discussing it. You hadn’t realized Tech was paying attention. You lie next to each other, mostly in silence, watching the light show.

“I must admit, I was skeptical at first, but this is quite a pleasant experience.”

“Skeptical? Why?”

“I have seen many natural phenomena during my travels in space. I did not think that the debris from a comet entering a planet's atmosphere would be particularly visually stimulating in comparison to what I have witnessed. But taken as a whole, this is quite an excellent experience.”

You laugh. “I suppose.” Smiling, you continue to watch as the little streaks fill the night, when suddenly three meteors scorch their way across the sky. You sit up excitedly and point. “That was amazing.” You look down at Tech. He has a slight smile on his face, then he pushes himself up and presses his lips to yours. His arms gather your body to him, one hand stroking in your hair, one at the small of your back. He takes your breath away with his kiss, drawing you down onto him.

This feels insane. Are you really going to fuck on top of the ship under the night sky? Turns out, yes, yes, you are.

You lie on him, enjoying the feel of his hot skin along your body. You kiss for a long time, until you can’t take it anymore, and whisper, “I need you. Please.” He helps you slide onto him, both of you gasping. You whimper; you’re a little sore but the sensation is too sweet. You lean forward, pressed chest to chest, as he pivots his hip to help you fuck him gently.

And when he carefully rolls you both so you can watch over his shoulder as the stars cascade out of the sky, you can’t help but think that this is all a little too ridiculous. He moves above you, long strokes that make your breath catch, and you cry out because sometimes he fits inside you perfectly.

You wrap your legs around him. “Yes, I like that. It feels so good. Just like that, Tech. Mmmm, just like that.”

Stars keep falling as he takes hold of your legs, angling you so his cock can thrust deeper. Your cries sound small as the trees surrounding you consume them.

You move together, one being working toward the same goal. Each stroke sends shivers through you until you feel your body full with warmth as a soft climax overtakes you, not nearly as intense as the one earlier, but somehow more satisfying.

He holds your hands, fingers intertwined, as he watches your face while the orgasm washes over you, drinking in those little noises you make that he so enjoys. He moves carefully as you finish, knowing you must be sore already, wanting you to still find pleasure as he nears his own climax.

And then you start whispering to him, “Come in me, Tech. I need to feel you inside me. I need it. I need you to come for me.” You move under him, insistent, demanding, so he has to surrender to you. He stiffens and gasps, his hot cum emptying in you. You wrap yourself around him as he collapses onto you, finally spent. You watch as the stars continue to fall through the blackness of the sky.

“We shouldn’t fall asleep up here.”

“Yes, that would be unwise.” He gingerly lifts himself off you. You roll and lie on his shoulder, watching the stars fall behind the trees. The air is cooling and you shiver. “Let us go back inside. You can continue watching from the cockpit, if you wish.”

“Tech.” He looks at you, while collecting the blankets. I wanted to spend more time with you, that’s why I lied.

“Thank you for tonight.” This was really special to me. I hope it was to you.

“Yes, this was very enjoyable.” He watches you as you climb down the hatch. I wish to do this again.

* But wait, there’s more:

The rest of the series can be found here.

Warning: It gets kinky

[saiintvalentiine]

Summary: Parrot and Wifies have a talk some time after the fallout of Parrot finding out Wifies is a clone. A follow up to Ken's POV in Part 1.

notes: this is once again not edited, this was the result of some quick writing last night and a wrap up today. it's more like practice for Parrot's voice which i think i did a shit job at but it's here and u can now judge me urself. enjoy. or dont idk. divider from here

word count: 2568. just slightly less than the previous installment.

11:49

Parrot has picked through his feathers so many times he thinks he’s developing a bald spot in his left wing. He's usually better at waiting, has patience for his plans to go through, but today there is no plan, just waiting. He stares at his comm, open in his hand as he rereads the chat over and over again.

[Wifies]: Would you be open to talking with me today?

[Parrotx2]: yes

[Parrotx2]: of course

[Parrotx2]: what’s up

[Wifies]: I was actually wondering if we could meet up.

[Parrotx2]: yeah wherever you want

[Wifies]: I’ll open up my world.

[Wifies]: How does noon sound?

[Parrotx2]: perfect

[Wifies]: I’ll send you the IP then.

[Parrotx2]: great!

Great! He sounds like a loser.

So Parrot is waiting for the clock to strike noon on his comm to go. Part of him wonders if he's going to spawn into a pit, or straight into lava, or in an escape room, something that would make Wifies feel better to watch him go through after the hell Parrot raised. Parrot would be fine with that. Honestly, he hopes Wifies is mad. He's only going to feel worse if he's met with Wifies’s carefully thought out words and blunt kindness.

11:54

He stops touching his wings. He's been trying to organize his thoughts so he doesn't say something incredibly stupid to Wifies again. There’s a script now.

I’m sorry for reacting so harshly, I was shocked and didn’t know how to process what I was hearing. I felt hurt because I thought you didn’t trust me with the truth, but now I see why you wanted to keep it to yourself. I should have never acted that way. You’re so important to me, and I should have thought about all the trust between us. I always trust you.

11:55

It’s simple, but it’s straightforward, and he wants to be as clear as possible. He also wants to be sincere, but sincerity is scary. His sincerity is blue, bruised, gushes forward like an open wound and stains the world in his blood.

11:56

But he can do sincerity. He can do it for Wifies. He could probably do a lot for Wifies, but Wifies never asks for anything. He didn’t even ask to be freed from the chunkban. He just waited. Trusted Parrot, and waited for Parrot, and was happy to see Parrot after everything. Wifies is always trusting and waiting and happy.

11:57

And Parrot ruined it for what? Catharsis for his fears? A moment to let that horrible feeling of being second, third, fourth in someone's life tear through everything he’s done? Is that even the reason why?

11:58

God. When Wifies starts asking questions, Parrot is going to crumble like a house of cards. It'll be Parrot's unjust luck to be forgiven.

[Wifies]: IP XXXXXXXXXX

Parrot jolts and almost drops his comm. He scrambles to copy the IP down and flick through his comm settings. He pastes it into the server IP box and hovers over the connect button.

12:00

He clicks connect.

Landing softly onto a carpet of podzol in a chilly spruce forest, Parrot lets out a plume of ashen breath. There are a few cabins in a semicircle in front of him, warm light spilling out of each window and from the branches of the towering spruce trees. The afternoon sun barely breaches the canopy, but it speckles the ground just enough to give the world a surreal atmosphere.

There's a campfire pit to one side surrounded by log benches, and there sits Wifies. He looks brilliant in the firelight, dark hair loose without his headband and violet eyes muted.

“Parrot,” Wifies calls out as he stands up. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Parrot says lamely, hesitating for a moment before making his way over to Wifies. The campfire warms him up, but the chill doesn't go away. “How are you?”

“It’s going to rain soon, so I’m feeling it in my joints,” Wifies says, lighthearted as he rubs one of his shoulders. “Sit with me.”

So Parrot does. He’s not in the business of denying Wifies much of anything. He sits on one end of the log bench, and Wifies sits two feet away, turned towards Parrot, and Parrot looks at him, and his mind just— it blanks. His script dissolves like salt in the sea.

“I wanted to start with saying that I am a clone of the original Wifies,” Wifies says, giving Parrot space to try and reboot his brain. “He was. . . making clones for the sake of content, and I was the most successful one. I never knew. And one day, Ken showed up to what I thought was my single player world, and. . . it’s a very long story, but he got me out of there and we, um, we killed the original. He. . . wasn’t going to let me just leave. And those are the main points of my story. I just wanted you to know the important bits before we talk further.”

“Clones for content,” Parrot echoes, eyebrows scrunching up. “Clones for content? He was— what?”

“Making clones to put them into escape rooms for quick video production.”

“The— what the fuck?”

Wifies smiles awkwardly, but doesn’t speak again. He keeps rubbing his shoulder over and over, self soothing maybe, or maybe it’s just that painful from the onset of the rain.

“I'm sorry for how I acted. I don’t care that you’re a clone,” Parrot says, flinching at his own sharpness. He looks away and into the crackling fire. “I care about you. The clone stuff is— is whatever. Or not whatever, I’ll care about it as much as you want me to care about it.”

“Parrot, don’t make me promises you know you can’t keep.”

Wifies’s voice is gentle. It is so, so gentle, with no hint of disappointment or scolding. Parrot’s stomach churns. He wishes again for Wifies’s anger, pointed and cold, instead of this. Anger is easy. This stings like salt in a wound.

“Why do you think I can’t keep to that?”

“Not knowing drives you crazy.”

“You not being there has driven me more crazy.”

“Until you forget, and it starts bothering you again.”

Parrot deserves it, but his heart is heavy and he feels like he’s been shot right through it. Wifies isn’t even being cruel, just honest; he’s right, eventually it will drive Parrot crazy to not be able to talk about the whole situation, to understand Wifies better by prying into his life.

“I don’t like talking about it. It was a bad time for me. I also don’t know everything about. . . myself. About what you’ll eventually ask.”

Parrot has to physically bite his tongue. Wifies doesn't know everything. What if he gets sick? Or badly hurt? What if he starts feeling like something is wrong, and there's nothing to be done for it, because nobody knows? What if—

“This is why I never want to tell anyone,” Wifies sighs out, curling in on himself in the corner of Parrot’s eyes. “If nothing else, just promise me you won't tell anyone?”

“Never,” Parrot says firmly. That's a promise he can keep. “I would never.”

“Thank you, Parrot.”

Their conversation tapers off. The sunlight is disappearing little by little, the promised rain clouds rolling in from far away, far above. Parrot’s feathers puff up a bit at a slight, churning breeze that cuts through the forest.

“I'm sorry, for what it's worth. For lying this whole time.”

“I see why you did. I just ended up proving why lying was the right choice. Nothing to be sorry about.”

“It's funny,” Wifies says in a voice that promises to be anything but funny. “When I'm scared, everything hurts again. I can never remember how they got here, but all the little pains come back again, like the reminder of fear should pull a memory or two up. But there's nothing. I don't remember how I hurt my shoulder this badly. I don't remember how it got fixed. All I remember is that it’s hurt forever. I don't remember a life without pain, and when this all came to light, my reality went from a life where pain existed to a life that was lived with pain.”

Rain begins to dribble through the leaves around them. The campfire hisses and sparks but doesn't extinguish, too large and hot to be daunted by such a pathetic display. The canopy is too dense for the rain to punch through in earnest.

“What are you scared of?” Parrot forces himself to ask. Please don't be afraid of me.

“Losing another part of my life to this. I can never seem to escape the factory. What a lousy escapist I've become, huh?”

Wifies pulls his feet up into the log, resting his chin on his knee and watching the fire. Parrot doesn't remember turning towards him, but he inches closer. The space between them is too large. His hand is too far from Wifies’s own.

“You don't have to lose anything,” Parrot says. “There's nothing to be lost. You can always come back to the server. Nobody there will ever know except for Ken.”

“No matter how this plays out, I lose you.”

“I'm right here. I'm right next to you, right now, what do you mean?”

Parrot feels pathetic, but he doesn't care. Wifies won't look at him, is talking about losing him like Parrot isn't about to crawl out of his skin just so Wifies won't leave him again. The rain thickens the air around them with the promise of more force, and Parrot stretches a wing over Wifies’s head without a single thought.

“You'll always think about the fact I'm a clone. I lost my status of human. I lost our relationship. It took so long for me to feel normal, and now it's all gone.”

“Wifies, look at me please.”

Wifies does. He does, because he still cares, and Parrot is going to be sick at the resigned look in Wifies’s eyes. Parrot is close enough now, so he reaches out and holds Wifies’s face in both hands. He can feel the way Wifies’s jaw works, the thrum of his slow heartbeat in his throat, the way his breathing is shallow and quick. His eyes are a little glassy, a little red, and Parrot adds another wretched tally to the list of times he's made Wifies cry.

“No matter what, you are human, okay? To me, and to Ken, and I'm sure to whoever you were talking to that day as well. Don't ever doubt that.”

Wifies’s expression softens and he just barely nods, which is a small relief for Parrot.

“All I ever think about when you're gone is when you're coming back,” Parrot says. His sincerity bleeds, red and blue smudged across each word. He’ll bleed for them, every drop if that’s what it takes. “And all I've been thinking about this whole time is how I'm going to make it up to you. How I really, really want to do whatever it takes for you to stay. I want you to stay. And not a single one of those thoughts had anything to do with whether you're a clone or not.”

Wifies breathes in. It shakes something horrible. Parrot will crawl his way back into being trusted until he has no more body to move with.

“All of those thoughts had to do with how you've always been with me. Funny, kind, snarky, quick, the only person in this world I've ever been able to close my eyes next to knowing that I've got everything I need right there. That the only way I'll ever be apart from you is by being torn. And none of that, none of it, has changed. I still think all that about you. All that's been added is that I'm an asshole who definitely doesn't deserve your loyalty, but I'm too greedy to let it go so easily.”

That makes Wifies giggle, the sound wet and cracking. Parrot presses the pads of his thumbs under Wifies's eyes. If he's going to make Wifies cry, the least he can do is clean it up too.

“The only thing I ever need you to do is believe in me,” Parrot says, pressing his lips to Wifies’s forehead. It's easier somehow to speak like this, wetness pooling against Parrot’s fingers. “Believe that I love you so much. Believe that I'm going to make this right between us. Believe that learning this has done nothing to change how I feel about you. And if you can't, please believe in me anyway.”

“Of course I believe in you Parrot,” Wifies murmurs, voice crackling. “Why else would I follow you everywhere?”

“I'm that persuasive?”

“Hardly.”

“Hey, not even a little?”

Wifies laughs. It’s a sweet sound. When Parrot pulls back to look, Wifies has his eyes closed, and he’s not quite smiling, but he’s not frowning either, which is a win. 

“You’re determined and direct,” Wifies says, letting the full weight of his head loll into Parrot’s hands. Parrot raises his other wing so they're encompassed by green and red and blue. “Which is what made me agree to help you at first. But then. . . I don’t know. You can be charming when you want to be. Not often, but on occasion.”

Parrot squawks indignantly just to hear Wifies laugh again. Wifies blinks his eyes open, and Parrot wipes away a stray tear.

“Do you know how touchy you are?” Wifies asks suddenly.

“Should I let go?”

“No, I just wonder if you know that. When you were upset, you made a real effort to not reach out. That’s how I knew it was serious.”

“Well, now you know it’s not serious.”

“Mm, this is serious too in its own way. You’re serious that you want me to stay.”

Parrot lifts Wifies’s head so that they’re eye to eye, bloodshot violet to his own green-blue blur, and says, “Deadly serious. I don’t want to be separated like this again. Knowing I had hurt you and couldn’t make it better? The absolute worst time of my life, I think.”

“It sucked,” Wifies agrees, finally cracking a smile. “It’s over now though. I think.”

“Of course it's over now, you're never allowed to leave me like that again,” Parrot scolds him entirely lighthearted and Wifies snorts.

“Don't yell at me again and I won't.”

“I won't, I'm sorry for yelling.”

Wifies laughs again, and despite the fact he's clearly reveling in having Parrot wrapped around his finger like this, Parrot can't even pretend to be annoyed. Wifies won't leave him again. It's all that matters right now. Any question or doubt dies a quiet death when Wifies reaches up to hold both of Parrot’s wrists in a loose grip.

“This is weirdly nice,” Wifies says, closing his eyes again. “I don't think anyone's ever touched my face so gently. I can't remember the feeling.”

“You just say when,” Parrot replies.

He's not being entirely selfless here— there's something soothing about running the pads of his thumbs over Wifies’s skin, like a promise that this moment is as real as when he left. Wifies can't leave him when they're like this, tangled up under Parrot’s wings under the rain.

“Then for just a bit longer,” Wifies says, and Parrot agrees. Just a bit longer.

[aziraphales-library]

Now that we've canonically met Crowley as an angel - are there any fics you feel portray his character before the fall particularly well (i.e., are similar to his portrayal in the show?)

Here are some angel Crowley fics written post-series two...

The Last Flight of the North Star by ghost_daddy (G)

In which Crowley talks to his past self in an attempt to get closure.

I still remember you (even if you have forgotten) by Maleniya (NR)

A fic about Aziraphale witnessing the trail of angel Crowley (Raphael), and how that affects him emotionally.

Love Me As I Am Not As I Was by Vicky87 (T)

Where, “restored to full Angelic status” didn't mean what the Angel thought it did.

An Archangel's Unsuccessful Guide to Heaven by thericochetarrow (G)

He looked at the box halfway hammered against the wall and the hammer in Raphael’s hand. “What are you doing?” “Oh, this?” Raphael gestured at the box. “I’m installing a suggestion box.” Aziraphale blinked. “A… suggestion box?”

Aziraphale and Crowley's (formerly known as the Archangel Raphael) first few meetings up in Heaven, back when everything was fine, and the worst sin that anyone could commit was installing a suggestion box right outside the Metatron's office.

come raise your flag upon me by trinityofone (T)

“Would you care to do the honors?” the Metatron asks. Aziraphale persuades Crowley to accompany him to Heaven, to be Forgiven. Things get...weirder before they get better.

Starmaker and Starlight by NohaIjiachi (G)

“Uhm, excuse me--”

“Oh, it’s you!” the Angel replied, a delighted smile opening on their face once they’d turned toward Aziraphale with a curious blink, and Aziraphale felt something writhe somewhere in his core, like part of him did a happy little somersault. It felt so… Nice, not only being recognized (he did tend to fly under the radar, he knew. He just had one of those faces, you know), but also being welcomed with such open joy.

“Yes. Hello! again,” Aziraphale said with a little nervous laugh, promptly wishing to smack himself. Why did he always have to be so awkward? “I, ah, I was wondering if I could--”

“Suuuuure, com’here!” the Angel replied, self assured and so very confident, the exact opposite of all Aziraphale was. They vaguely waved their hand, and a second little cloud of stardust appeared at their side, sparkling and ever churning with pink and purple hues. “The view from here is the best, get yourself comfortable!”

--

Aziraphale is lucky enough to meet the nebula Angel a second time, and then a third, and then... Well. The rest is history.

- Mod D

[gamerbot-22]

Teaching a Good Dog New Tricks

Prompt: Ice Skating

TW/CW: Sampard, banter that gets a bit suggestive in one spot, background Servasha if you squint, barely proofread and I appreciate spellchecks!

Word Count: 1,033

A/N: Oh god, this goober. With this prompt? There Is Only One Option. Canon be damned, I think this man has the grace of a newborn giraffe on roller skates. Also I keep starting these fics with "[shipname] if you squint" only to actually Start Writing and then have to drag myself back up here and change it to just "[shipname]"--

Likes and Reblogs appreciated (reblogs > likes) and Requests are Open! Read this story on Ao3 here!

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The dividers in this post were made by @/gamerbot-22 (me!) ☆

© All rights reserved by miHoYo

"C'mon, Geppie! The ice isn't getting any thicker out here!"

He knew that. Serval knew he knew that. Everyone else at this blasted festival on the lake knew that, but it did not make his knees feel any less shaky as he tried to pull himself up onto his feet.

In all of his time on Belobog – or Jarilo-VI as the outworlders of the Astral Express informed him this planet was called – Gepard had attempted ice skating... maybe three times? Two of which were when he was a child, and the third being right now. And of course the only reason he had even come out to the lake in the first place was because he had been dragged here by his sisters, and one thing led to another and now he was here, trembling from the uncertainty those two flimsy metal blades strapped to his boots instilled in him.

"Coming!" He called, knowing damn well that he was not going anywhere but down once he let go of the fence that had been installed on this end of the frozen lake.

This was probably going to go the same way the last two attempts had gone: Gepard was going to keep a death grip on this fence until Serval skated over, egged him into letting go, skated away, and he would lose his balance and his shoulder would hurt for the rest of the day. He made a mental note to try and not fall for it this time.

"Well, if it isn't Captain Landau!"

Oh, Aeons, no.

Gepard didn't even have to look to confirm who had decided to come over and heckle him. Right there, on the other side of the fence, with his feet planted firmly on solid ground, was Sampo. That smile on his face might fool some, but Gepard could see the mischief dancing in his eyes as he leaned over the section of fence right beside Gepard's trembling hands.

"Finally taking a day off?"

The Captain huffed, his breath billowing like dragon smoke in front of his mouth. "You wish. I may be out with my family, but that does not negate my respons--"

"--'Negate my responsibilities as a Silvermane Guard.' Of course! No one here doubts your dedication!" Sampo clasped his hands together. He must think himself so non-threatening, but Gepard knows that that posturing only means that he's playing docile until he can find some trouble to cause when no one is watching.

"What is it that you want, Mr. Koski?" Gepard asked, inching further along the fence, trying not to think of how he'll have to let go if he wants to get past the rascal accosting him.

Of course, Sampo played hurt right away, actually standing up straight to put a hand on his chest to communicate just how directly the Captain's words had struck him. Gepard took his chance to shuffle across the ice some more.

"'Mr. Koski?' Still? After all this time, my friend?" He followed Gepard with his head, letting him get about a foot or so away before moving to walk alongside him. "Don't you think we're past the formalities by now?"

"Not exactly, no." Gepard turned his head to look back out across the ice. At the other end of the lake, past all the other skaters, was his sister, completely oblivious to his plight as she skated alongside a woman in white with navy hair. He was glad she was having a good time but some help would be appreciated–

Sampo followed Gepard's gaze out onto the ice. He could care less who or what the Captain was actually looking at, and found himself more concerned with how he was looking out at the ice in general. He was looking at it. Not skating on it. And even with his gauntlets on, it was clear that Gepard was white-knuckling it with this wooden fence.

"Do you not know how to skate?"

Gepard's ears turned even redder than they had been from the cold. "I don't need your help."

Sampo waved his hands dismissively, that big smile breaking across his face again. "Oh, please! It would be my honor to teach you!" Before Gepard could protest, Sampo was already high-tailing it over to the little booth offering rental skate attachments. The Captain didn't have the energy to fight this. This was just going to be his fate now – learning to skate thanks to the man he wanted most.

In jail. The man he wanted most in jail. He wanted to put Sampo in cuffs and get him off the street, not–

"I would've used my own, but you know, they're all the way back home." Sampo held the rental skates up by the straps like a prize fish, letting the iron dangle and catch the rare sunlight that cut through the atmosphere.

"And that would be...? Gepard wobbled up into a straighter position, resting his weight on the front teeth of his own skates so he didn't go sliding sideways onto his ass.

Sampo hopped up onto the fence and started to buckle up his shoes, making sure the straps were good and tight before he swung around to get onto the ice. "Well, Captain, that depends on how well you listen to my instruction! Luckily, you're in good hands."

Gepard grimaced, hoping it would distract from the burning feeling in the tips of his ears and the back of his neck.

When Sampo offered his hand to lead Gepard off of the fence, the Captain hesitated, but upon some reflection and the reminder that it was he either tried this or be delegated to The Fence for the rest of the afternoon, he figured he would just bite the bullet and give it a try. No harm in trying, right?

Sampo smiled wide again, and for once it seemed to actually reach his eyes. "You won't regret it, friend! Now off we go!"He pushed off the ice and took Gepard along with him, clutching tight to his arm so he didn't go tumbling face-first into the solid ground beneath him. Regardless of whatever he said, Gepard knew this was going to be a long afternoon.

[yuzurujenn]

[2025.02.21] Digital TV Guide April 2025 issue

In July 2022, Yuzuru Hanyu held a press conference to officially announce the beginning of a new journey as a professional figure skater. Since then, he has continuously challenged himself, showcasing an awe-inspiring presence on the ice.

Now entering the third season of his professional skating career, during 2024–2025, Hanyu launched the third installment of his personal ice show series, ICE STORY, titled "Yuzuru Hanyu ICE STORY 3rd "Echoes of Life" TOUR."

Last December, the show had its grand opening at Saitama Super Arena. As the new year began, it traveled to Hiroshima in January and then to Chiba in February, with performances held across three cities in total. Every performance was packed with applause and cheers, creating an electrifying atmosphere.

From start to finish, ICE STORY features only Yuzuru Hanyu performing on the ice, which is an innovative concept in itself. In addition, Hanyu personally planned and directed the entire ice show, infusing it with a unique narrative structure. This unprecedented form of ice performance has garnered widespread acclaim.

Echoes of Life is one such production. Set against the backdrop of a desolate, near-futuristic world, the show follows the journey of the protagonist, Nova, portrayed by Hanyu himself. As Nova explores the 'meaning of life' on the ice, the story gradually unfolds. The blueprint for this narrative was also created by Hanyu. How did he craft such a creatively charged work centered around such a fundamental theme?

"To be honest, I’ve always felt that I have limited knowledge and experience. I’m not the kind of person who reads a lot of books. I don’t often engage with artistic forms like movies or musicals. So, when I’m coming up with a story, I’m always in a state of exploration. But I’ve always known that I must prioritize the things I genuinely recognize as beautiful and cherish the things that truly move me and touch my heart. That’s why I often draw inspiration from past experiences, people, and emotions that have touched me deeply. I absorb them, transform them, and express them in my own way," Hanyu said.

His inspiration doesn’t simply come from books but rather from things that have deeply moved him on a personal level. These are rooted in his own experiences and genuine feelings. It’s precisely because of this sincere approach, building on authentic emotions, that he’s able to create works that resonate with the hearts of his audience.

Looking back on this year, Yuzuru Hanyu has released yet another outstanding work. Reflecting on his achievements, he said:

"This year, I’ve gained a lot and encountered many new things. I took about three months of ballet lessons before, but I had never received formal training. When it came to dance, I used to just watch dances I liked and try to imitate them, or I would learn movements from a choreographer and do my best to replicate what the teacher showed me. You could say that, until now, I was someone who only danced based on feeling. During the preparation for Echoes of Life, MIKIKO-sensei, who was in charge of the choreography, taught me the basics of dance performance step by step. That’s when I realized that all those movements I had been doing by instinct actually had a solid theoretical foundation behind them. Because of that, I feel I’ve gained new understanding and growth in terms of physical expression this year."

Yuzuru Hanyu spent the year fully engaged in meaningful work, and now, after concluding Echoes of Life, he is preparing for his next performance, notte stellata 2025. This series of shows, which began two years ago in his hometown, carries the beautiful vision of "bringing hope to the disaster-stricken areas."

Beyond notte stellata, Hanyu has also actively participated in volunteer activities. Last year, he joined a charity performance to support the recovery of the Noto Peninsula.

"I can genuinely feel the support everyone has given me, and I’ve had the chance to truly connect with the thoughts and feelings of those who are working so hard to move forward," Hanyu said. "Through this process, I’ve come to realize that figure skating alone can’t directly solve any problems. So I have been thinking hard about what I can do to help, and I feel that I am doing my best in every moment to support the activities."

Now, notte stellata 2025 has entered its third edition, and we eagerly await the chance to witness his breathtaking performances with deep emotions on the ice once again.

Towa Pharmaceutical Presents Yuzuru Hanyu notte stellata 2025 March 7 (Friday) – Show starts at 17:00 March 8 (Saturday) – Show starts at 18:30 March 9 (Sunday) – Show starts at 16:00

This year marks the third edition of Yuzuru Hanyu notte stellata. Hanyu has always kept the victims of the Great East Japan Earthquake close to his heart. This time, he will gather with top figure skaters to perform at the Sekisui Heim Super Arena (GRANDI·21) in Miyagi, one of the areas affected by the disaster. Additionally, this year’s show will feature a special guest appearance by Mansai Nomura, who will collaborate with Hanyu in crafting a truly special performance.

Info: https://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/B0DWNK1B9V