#i can put it and then seeing the explanations for other people who say the same thing being completely different than my own line of thinkin

[room-surprise]

[SPOILERS BELOW]

Not to make an already long post longer, but saw these great tags and wanted to respond:

#dungeon meshi#i find these sorts of essays so insightful and a further testimony to how much thought miss kui puts in dunmesh#“cithis is doing female drag” is an incredible explanation and it makes so much sense to me now#im curious where kabru falls in the elven gender chart#cause hes not a super masculine person but he doesnt present himself really femininely as well#does marcille fall under being super feminine for elf standards#she doesnt use as heavy of makeup as cithis but imo she does emphasize her gender more by falling under a typically girly appearance#the way she styles her hair & the outfits she chooses to wear#this got me thinking of stuff i didnt even care about until 5 minutes ago lmao

I actually discuss exactly this in chapter 4 of The Essay in Marcille's section (starting under the heading "ELVEN SUPERIORITY"), that because Marcille is taller and heavier than most elves, and Kui shows repeatedly that she makes great efforts to be feminine (and gets upset when her femininity is questioned, or others don't obey gender norms the way she wants), I believe she is overcompensating by acting extra-feminine because she's afraid of people realizing she's a half-elf... Since everyone in-universe most likely believes "elves are small and feminine."

So failing to present in a feminine-enough way will make people assume she's a half-elf, and that has various social disadvantages.

Marcille is supposedly “not ashamed” of her half-elf status, however she hides it in her day-to-day life via omission and careful self-censoring, allowing people to believe that she is a full elf. The World Guide says that Marcille doesn’t tell people the truth because it would be “a hassle” or “too difficult” to explain, but the way this is phrased makes me think Kui is telling us this is only an excuse. Saying something is “too difficult” is a polite Japanese way of saying “no” or refusing to do it, so the implication is that Marcille simply doesn’t want to disclose her multi-racial status to anyone. It would be “a hassle” to explain because if people know she’s a half-elf, Marcille will have to defend herself and her family against all the assumptions she knows people will make: That her mother is a sub-standard, low-class elf scamming the short-lived races for her own benefit, that her father was a pathetic idiot that was seduced, and that Marcille is a foolish, immoral and incompetent half-breed who is jealous of real elves and desperately wants to be accepted by them, and is bitter about her inability to have children. She’ll have to explain that she isn’t like that, and probably not even be believed, so it’s better not to let anyone know that she’s a half-elf at all.

I think to elves, more than anything Marcille reads as a foreigner, she's not a REAL elf because she wasn't born in the west and she doesn't actually conform to their social standards, she doesn't know how elves dress, talk or act, because she was raised in the east.

Kui tricks us into thinking Marcille and Fionil are normal elves because they're the only ones we see for such a long time, but once a lot of actual elves from the west show up, we can see that they're very different from them, both in physical appearance, grooming and clothing, not to mention personality and behavior.

Marcille and Fionil are emotional and expressive, but the elves are (generally) much more cold and stoic... When we do see emotions from them, it's usually anger, not sadness or happiness.

Compare Marcille's elaborate ever-changing hairstyles to how every western elf has an extremely simple, minimalist hairstyle. Her weird, complicated outfit versus the extreme minimalism of elven clothing.

I believe this is in some ways a parallel Kui is making to Japanese culture, where Japanese people who have spent time outside of Japan are considered foreign, and often bullied or discriminated against for that, even if they are 100% ethnically Japanese. They've been "tainted" by living or being born overseas, and can never be "really Japanese" no matter what they do or how long they live in Japan.

As for Kabru...

Honestly there isn't really anything feminine about his presentation in my opinion, compared to other men in the story. He's just a beautiful fantasy South Asian man who was raised by both a mother "from a good family" and an elven noblewoman who gave him an extremely thorough education.

He wears the same clothing as all the other male characters, he's an extremely skilled and brutal physical fighter, he's a good leader, he doesn't wear makeup (Kui has told us several other characters do though!)... He's just naturally very beautiful, with long dark eyelashes and facial features common to Asian people, like a small nose, almond-shaped eyes and a small chin. These are traits that are often perceived as "more feminine", but many Asian men have them.

He's a sophisticated, cultivated gentleman with the old timey equivalent of a college education. He speaks multiple languages and knows about all the different world cultures, including their etiquette. None of these things are feminine, in fact in many ways he'd be considered the ideal upper-class man throughout most of history, someone who should work in a high level government position or rule a country.

He's like a prince, a nobleman, he's dreamy, he's ideal husband material, etc.

To the elves I think his gender presentation just seems "correct", and I imagine he often gets backhanded compliments like "wow, you act so much like an elf!" by which they mean "you almost act like a civilized human being! That's amazing, I didn't know tall-men could do that! You must be working really hard to reach our level."

So to the elves, he is androgynous but that's a good thing, and he seems to be masculine by their standards.

Probably this means he seems a bit androgynous or effeminate by the standards of the Eastern hemisphere (where Dungeon Meshi takes place) but that is because those standards are pretty harsh, and seem to be somewhat misogynistic... Remember, the dwarves (who set a lot of the cultural standards in the East) only respect people who have a beard, and they expect their women to shave. Meaning only bearded older men are considered "people" who matter and can impact society.

So until Kabru grows a beard (or glues one on) he'll probably be looked down on, and seen as a "lesser" category of man no matter what he does... But he knows the social etiquette for the societies in the Eastern hemisphere, so I think he's able to blend in and present "correctly" among them if he wants to.

Basically it depends on how dwarf-like the people Kabru interacts with are. To anyone who is deep into dwarven social norms (dwarves themselves, tall-men of the Northern Continent), he probably seems "too elf-like" to be considered a real man...

But people who follow gnomish social norms (gnomes and some of the tall-men in the Eastern Continent) might find him perfect, romantic ideal husband material, as I said. The kind of wonderful guy girls dream about marrying.

I could keep going but I wanted to try and keep this short LMAO it's a HUGE topic though, and incredibly complicated.

Basically I think Kabru's mostly just a Guy, and he's flexible enough to code switch to convey his Guy-ness to whomever he's around.

cithis's overtly feminine presentation is so fun to me... the long dress and the cleavage window and the makeup and the fact that she's the only one who changes super noticeably in the genderswap is just . Idk its cool, esp with how androgynous all the other elves are

It is very cool! Cithis has a very overt gender presentation that we don't really see in other elves, even Otta who makes a point to present as male doesn't read as super masculine to the level of "hyper-feminine" that Cithis is

Elves seem to have their own fashion preferences independent of gender (from what we can tell from the gender swap)

Which makes sense, Lycion himself wears a very feminine hairstyle even in the original, so Pattadol also keeping the same hairstyle while she's a man is consistent! Meanwhile Cithis seems to be way more conscious of her own gender when dressing?

I wonder if presenting more feminine is more common than presenting more "masculine" for elves? Would a male elf dressed like Cithis be strange? I don't think Cithis is completely unique in how feminine she is cause we do see a few other elves with similar traits. Flamela has a exposed cleavage, Mysil has a long skirt, Daltian clan "Aunt Uranesse" seems very feminine with makeup and adorned hair, Cithis has it all at once but the pieces aren't unique I guess is what I'm saying

They say that for the most part there isn't much difference between male and female fashion but even here we have an elf in what we would call a "feminine" looking long dress

I wonder if those are things that male elves could wear without other elves finding it strange too 🤔

I wonder if there's an equivalent for "very masculine" in elf fashion, tbh I don't know what that would even look like, male Cithis just wears a very average looking version of the uniform (minus the boots and arm armor) even the neck piece is on instead of her choker. Otta does "dress like a man" to the point other elves get her gender wrong tho so there must be an equivalent? (besides the fact she wears the male uniform) Or maybe is her behavior along with the fashion that makes them read her as masculine and the fashion alone wouldn't?

Anyway it is very interesting!!! But I have no idea what to make of it!!!! Elf gender studies when

[typellblog]

Hitagi End - An Analysis

Well, that’s it, folks. We’ve finally reached the end of the Monogatari series. It’s even right there in the arc title.

Hold on, I’m being told that there’s another whole season. What the fuck, I’ll be well into 2025 by the time I’m done with this.

But yeah, as usual with the naming scheme the second word seems to be the thing our title character has to confront - Hitagi is in active resistance against the End, and whether in the abstract form of the conclusion of the series itself, or the more literal threat of Sengoku Nadeko, there’s one common feature. Graduation.

One thing I remember vividly from Koimonogatari - from the first time I watched Koimonogatari, several years ago - is Kaiki’s offhand statement that Hitagi and Koyomi will probably break up in college. He says it so matter-of-factly, but it’s not something I ever considered, watching the rest of the series. I was fully immersed in the teenage perspective, convinced that nothing would ever end. It takes the perspective of a washed up older man to break the illusion, I suppose. You always hear the same complaint about romance manga - there should be more focus on after they’re already in a relationship. Getting together shouldn’t be the story’s end. 

One reason why it might be the story’s end is because as long as it ends there you can convince yourself it will last forever. Their relationship will never sink to the level of mundanity, of lovers’ quarrels - there will never be the possibility of being interested in someone else, finding someone else, being replaced. 

That is the kind of idealistic, indulgent, static ending that Sengoku Nadeko desires, and as a result is the kind of ending that Senjougahara Hitagi fights against. 

This is where I say something about Kaiki Deishuu. Something to make sense of what he’s doing in this story. He’s a man in search of an ending, I could say. Ever since the death of Gaen Tooe, he’s been looking for a way to move on. Perhaps this is why he tells Nadeko the same cause of death - the person you have a crush on died in a car accident. So mundane, so unexpected, so implausible. He thinks she will accept it. Does he?

He’s a man who’s already met his end, I could say. Such is the fate of the specialists. They’ve already graduated, already long since handled their personal agreements and disagreements. They’re stuck, now, bound to their own nature, their own rules. They appear only as supporting characters, never the protagonist. Well. I guess that’s a lie. 

In adopting narrators other than Koyomi, Second Season shifts the focus away from his obsession with helping and connecting to others. Koyomi’s interactions with and idealization of women results in a sense of distance - he struggles to see himself in them and their problems. How much of his attempts to cross that distance are really just attempts to help himself? 

This dynamic collapses when the female cast, facing their own issues, are made protagonists in their own right. They experience themselves as the Other, & Koyomi’s standard process of understanding the girl by first understanding the oddity becomes in these cases a process of self-exploration. 

And yet here we are, back to seeing a male protagonist confronted with the issues of women that he struggles to understand. 

I don’t mean to rag on men, exactly, I just think back to how there tends to be less distance between Koyomi and other men, how he’s more capable of seeing them as another version of himself, and I think that the best explanation for Kaiki’s presence here is that he’s filling in.

He himself thinks so, although it’s Oshino, and not Koyomi, that he considers. 

Regardless, the parallels to Koyomi are established firmly enough by the ending. Kaiki was poison to Hitagi but a surprising help to Nadeko, while Koyomi is the opposite. Put that way, their differences and similarities seem readily explicable. Koyomi saves people. He forgives the harm they do to him. It works for the prickly Hitagi, who needs a pillar of support, but not Nadeko, who needs to be told that she isn’t a victim.

Kaiki lies to people, but that doesn’t mean he’s trying to hurt them. Ononoki proposes a reading of his involvement with Hitagi where he had no ill intentions whatsoever. He didn’t try to free her from the crab simply because he didn’t think it would help her to regain what she had lost. He caused her parents’ divorce to keep her from under the thumb of her mother. He even swindled the cult, although more as an act of revenge than anything. Perhaps there was some impropriety in their relationship, perhaps he exploited her feelings for him, but our understanding of the events is vague enough to give him the benefit of the doubt if we really want.

Kaiki fails to help Hitagi, not (just?) because he’s trying to scam her, but because he’s fundamentally incapable of being honest with her. All his actions move around her and ignore her wishes.

When it comes to Nadeko, on the other hand . . . I mean, it doesn’t initially seem like he’s doing much better, does it. He has no luck with his manipulations, with currying favour, with bold untruths. In the end though, the way he helps Nadeko is a lie that they both know is a lie. Really, it’s more like telling her a story. 

And I’ve written before about how Nadeko needs stories.

Kaiki doesn’t tell her anything that another person couldn’t have. Koyomi, Hitagi, even Nadeko herself is probably aware of similar advice on some level. Don’t throw your life away pointlessly. If you want to do things, then you should do them. You can’t succeed unless you try. 

Kaiki’s talent is simply in recognising that Nadeko needs to hear it. Koyomi wouldn’t have thought to say it, because he doesn’t know why she became a snake god. She doesn’t want to tell him either. He’s stuck. 

But it’s not as if Kaiki has some unique insight into her psychology that lets him work this out. As he puts it, he’s not like Oshino. He didn’t ‘see through’ Nadeko, he just straight up ‘saw’ it. He broke into her room, twisted open the lock to her closet with a 10 yen coin and fucking looked. Her parents didn’t know what was in there, Koyomi didn’t know what was in there, Tsukihi didn’t know, Oshino didn’t know, even Hanekawa who heard about it from someone else and thought it might be an important detail couldn’t possibly know without opening the god damn closet.

This is where Kaiki’s habit of working around people becomes useful. Because more than anyone else, he recognises that Nadeko might be fine as a god, just as he thought Hitagi might be fine staying weightless two years ago. He’s not trying to save her. He’s not trying to do what’s best for her. He’s simply trying to scam her, with all the lack of respect for her personal belongings that implies. 

This establishes, perhaps, an important difference between Koyomi and Kaiki, but it also establishes a similarity. In dealing with oddities - in dealing with people - the key is getting to know them. 

This is something Koyomi struggles with, out of a fear of being too forward, a fear of hurting them, a lack of appreciation of his own value, as a kind of half-person, a fake person, that could only weigh others down. Kaiki embraces his nature as a fake and adopts only the most rational and most unscrupulous methods of approaching others.

The question, I suppose, is why? What does Kaiki get out of playing a character that informs all of his actions without explaining them? What does he get out of remaining unknowable even to himself, reacting with surprise to his own feelings and motivations? What does he get from acting without thought, tossing away caution, tossing away patience, and tossing away money in an attempt to toss away the past?

Kaiki values money for its endless acceptability, its exchange value. He doesn’t wish to have money, he wishes to use it, and in keeping with this philosophy, he considers nothing irreplaceable, not even himself. The person named Kaiki Deishuu is deliberately false, deliberately contradictory, and he’s long since given up on getting to the bottom of that particular well.

I begin to understand why he comes up, now, in relation to Nadeko, who is lost in a web of her own identity. 

Sengoku Nadeko is telling herself a story. She has to, in order to not hate herself. She is, and will continue to be, in love with Koyomi-oniichan. This isn’t something that motivates her actions in the conventional sense so much as a wall to keep out the world, to assert that she is normal. So why does she still hold onto it, in this situation where it has become so far beyond normal? 

Because she considers it part of herself. She is still playing the role of Sengoku Nadeko, and she can’t cast aside the most Nadeko piece of herself, the piece that she has spent the most time and effort showing off to other people. It would call her existence into question, make her look fake, make her feel empty. The sense of normalcy she’s trying to achieve is not in how other people see her, it’s in how she sees herself. She takes the pieces of herself that are left, the pieces of herself she’s been given, and pulls them together into a story that makes sense. To her, loving herself means never changing, never throwing parts of herself away, never identifying a problem in her own behaviour. 

She’s happy, Kaiki thinks. It feels a little different from the end of Otori, where Kuchinawa was still presented as a separate existence. He no longer pokes at Nadeko’s insecurities, at least not obviously. In recognising her own role in the whole affair, Nadeko is no longer worried about hurting others, of being seen as a victim, because she fully acknowledges herself as the one with all the power in her interactions. Godhood is an unusual role for her, but she seems happy to take it up, viewing her job as responding to the prayers of worshippers. It's a much simpler, more transactional view of social relations than she had to navigate as a human. She likes people who are nice to her and doesn't like people who aren't.

Ultimately, though, she's still playing a part, putting on a performance for Kaiki’s benefit. Her cutesy habits as a god are a far cry from the more genuine rage she expresses in the classroom in Otori. But then again, she doesn't have to worry about that, because she's not a human. She's no longer a part of society, with all the freedom that entails. An entirely negative freedom, of course. She doesn't have to do anything and thus there's nothing for her to do, besides play games with Kaiki and drink the alcohol she could only sneak sips of behind her dad’s back at home.

She’s happy, but does that matter?

Kaiki doesn’t think so. The other parallel established in the ending is between Nadeko and Hitagi. Compared to Nadeko as someone who never throws anything away, Hitagi is someone who rejects unnecessary things, rejects convenient narratives of victimisation, rejects divine assistance.

Nadeko is broken, thinks Kaiki. Like Hitagi’s mother. Like Hitagi almost was. And being broken has a specific meaning for him - it means no longer accurately recognising the value of the things you have. Nadeko overvalues the things that play an important role in her delusions and ignores everything else. In comparison, think back to Hitagi listing out everything she has to Koyomi back in Bakemonogatari. She has so little, but it’s all precious to her. Not only that, but she manages to offer it to another person. It’s only in recognising the value of herself and also someone else that they can form a mutually beneficial ‘exchange’, a real connection.

In Bakemonogatari, Hitagi’s self is framed as a series of external objects. You are the people around you. In Koimonogatari, Kaiki’s self is found in his money. Endlessly exchangeable, never unique, always mercenary. He offers himself up to Nadeko and gets nothing in return, because she fundamentally doesn’t value what he’s bringing her. Donating to a shrine at New Years’ is a sucker’s game, Kaiki thinks at the beginning of the novel, and he’s proven right enough.

For Kaiki, you could say that the money he spends is spent on himself, on presenting a certain image of himself. So what of the money he takes from others?

He accepts Hitagi’s woefully low payment for the job. He accepts it as a job, because if it’s not a job he’d have to start thinking about what his relationship to her is, if not client and employer. It would become unique, no longer exchangeable for any of the other half-dozen scams he’s running. 

He accepts Izuko’s 3 million severance fee. He accepts it and goes on working. It’s unlike him, Yotsugi says. He’s contradicting himself. The money isn’t being exchanged for anything, he’s just taking it. But isn’t that the job of a scammer? To get as much money for as little effort as possible? Then why does he keep doing the job? 

He’s acting unlike himself. Throughout the novel, he’s constantly pointing out new sides of himself. Phrases he’s said for the first time. Actions he’s never done before. After a certain point, I have to conclude he’s lying. Kaiki acts unlike himself in Koimonogatari because acting unlike himself, unlike the persona he deliberately acts as, is one of his most characteristic actions.

Being a specialist is about balance - or at least so we would assume from the actions of Oshino Meme. It’s about give-and-take. But Kaiki is a fake specialist, a conman. He should only want to take. It’s not a coincidence, then, that he keeps giving. 

I understood it on an intellectual level, but now I get it. I really fucking get it. He’s just, so, Araragi Koyomi. He’s so thoughtless and impulsive, so concerned with appearances, enamoured with his own edginess, stubborn, self-deprecating, cowardly, dense, inconsiderate, self-sacrificing, willful, proud of outsmarting children, reluctant to commit to anything, and most of all half-assed.

That is the characteristic trait of Araragi Koyomi as I understand it. He’s trapped between worlds, vampire and human, but doesn’t seem particularly inclined to choose one or the other. He doesn’t just look to the future, but the past too. In reaching towards what he wants, he’s immensely reluctant to give up what he already has. 

All the way back in Nekomonogatari Kuro, he characterises Hitagi and Suruga as different to him, more forward-looking, prefiguring Kaiki’s comments about Hitagi as someone willing to throw aside the most important things to her to get what she wants. 

It’s funny, because in doing so he also talks about Tsubasa as someone who’s the same, who also looks for solace in the past. Tsubasa, who in Nekomonogatari Shiro we come to understand will casually cast aside the past if it doesn’t suit her. 

She has a different perspective, you see. She thinks Koyomi is different from her. He’s ‘unshakable’, in her words, not concerned about losing his identity. Precisely because he keeps looking back, because he keeps confronting his past, he’s able to accept all of himself, unlike her. 

Despite Monogatari being a series about people changing, several times characters espouse the idea that you can’t change, not really.

The thing is that while change is obviously possible, what this idea cautions against is ignoring and forgetting about what you used to be like. Tsubasa can’t just make a new version of herself whenever things start getting difficult, she has to understand herself as a continuous person composed of everyone she’s ever been. 

The Rainy Devil teaches Suruga something similar, as regardless of the kind of person she wishes to become, the arm can’t fundamentally transform her. It simply shows that she was already the kind of person who could learn to run fast, already the kind of person who wanted to brutalize Hitagi’s new boyfriend. Koyomi’s idea that she’s somehow more forward-looking than him seems laughable when she feels as though Hitagi and her issues are something that she ran away from.

It’s a fundamentally half-assed application of Numachi Rouka’s methods - for running away from your problems to work you have to remain detached, and the devil’s grasping arm is evidence both of Suruga’s failure in that regard, but also of the attachment to life itself that Rouka lacked. No wonder it felt off when it suddenly disappeared in Hanamonogatari. 

At the same time, though, losing the arm is evidence of her change throughout that arc. Her running no longer isolates her, but instead can be seen as a way to connect with others. It’s no coincidence that’s how she ends up meeting Koyomi near the end. It’s his advice that gives her the confidence to get over the finish line, but the first step is abandoning everything and just running - not trying to beat anyone, not trying to hold back, with no particular goal or attachment to a wish. It’s the first time she really can since she started using the monkey’s paw.

Notably it’s Kaiki that offered her an alternative and advised her to just let Rouka have the parts. Kaiki, the one who seemed to be collecting them himself. Isn’t the concept of him possessing what is in a very real sense the remains of Gaen Tooe so fascinating? But it’s the yet-living Suruga that he calls her legacy. It’s hard to say if meeting her, in some way, helped him move on. 

Once again, we see a difference from Koyomi, who advises Suruga to act like herself and do what she wants. Kaiki tells Suruga to do what’s easy, what would cause less difficulties for her, in a similar way that he seems to understand Nadeko is much happier as a god and Hitagi wouldn’t have to confront her memories of her mother as long as she remains weightless.

By regaining her weight and her emotions, nothing will change, Oshino cautions Hitagi. She won’t suddenly make up with her mother. But it does allow her to move forward, to value her memories correctly, not allow her missing weight to weigh on her so much that she will never be able to become close to anyone else.

“She’s different now, more so than if she were a different person” Kaiki says, and it’s so easy to read him as relieved that she’s not stuck as she was when he fucked her up. That she’s still always in the moment where she truly fell in love for the first time. That she was able to remain the same person while still loving someone else. 

Tsubasa’s immense righteousness is subverted in Nekomonogatari, Suruga’s seeming single-mindedness is deconstructed in Hanamonogatari, and despite the effusive words of praise they both have for Koyomi Araragi it’s evident from his internal narration that he’s more pathetic and wavering than anyone else - and perhaps that’s how one ought to be, here. Never able to make a decision on what’s most important. Always most invested in whatever you’re doing right now, whatever person is right in front of you.

Hitagi is a character that we never see from the first person. Koyomi’s view of her as a titan striding headlong towards her goals is never really contradicted in the story, because despite her immensely evident vulnerability, she’s shown as making a more active effort to move on than anyone. 

The shadow of her past relationship with Kaiki hangs over Koimonogatari like a specter.

In Nisemonogatari it’s mentioned that her animus towards Kaiki probably comes from the fact she wasn’t able to hate him in the past. While she was still under the influence of the crab, her emotions regarding her mother were dampened. Kaiki’s acts of splitting her family up likely wasn’t something she was capable of expressing her resentment for at the time. 

If you think of that hatred as a final remaining regret, her kidnapping of Koyomi and confronting of Kaiki in Nisemonogatari the expression of such, then it makes sense that Nisemonogatari also marks the start of her mellowing out, never again reaching the heights of violence she demonstrates at the beginning of that novel. 

An interesting thing about Kaiki’s role there, looking back, is that he’s clearly aiming for that outcome. As soon as Hitagi confronts him, he leaves. He tells her to stop worrying about the past, about the fact that she once had a relationship with him, because he’s thoroughly uninterested in her as she is now. He provokes her into affirming her current self and relationship with Koyomi. And he says that the man who tried to violate her died in a car accident. 

Is he lying? Is it just a coincidence, that he goes with the same manner of death as Gaen Tooe, the same line he feeds to Sengoku Nadeko? 

Either way, the purpose of the line becomes a little clearer. He’s trying to get her, both of them, to move on. To understand that the people who seemed so important to you are mundane, the events that shaped your lives don’t mean anything in the big picture, and your past is just that. It’s over. It’s the end. 

He almost embodies the concept, in Koimonogatari. We see from his perspective and he is indeed far less ominous, far less portentous, far less important, than he seems from the third person. 

He’s also really bad at it. Despite his exhortations to ignore the past, he himself clearly still cares a lot about Hitagi. She as well can’t quite avoid falling back into old patterns of banter, admiration, reliance. 

And his ideology isn’t enough for Nadeko. He can’t just deny what she’s clinging onto now, he needs to give her something new. They called Osamu Tezuka a God, she says, hesitantly forming a bridge between her current self and the future she wants to inhabit. Telling herself a convenient story that patches it all up. 

It results in an oddly ambiguous message. Nisio loves his tricks, revealing something the narrator was mistaken about at the very end, but when Hitagi says she never loved him and hangs up it’s hard to tell which one of them came out ahead in that little back and forth. Maybe Kaiki, the eternal washout, was so enamoured of his own unique subjectivity he never considered the schoolgirl he was scamming wasn’t so enamoured of him. 

Who am I kidding, it doesn’t feel that way at all. Her rejection of the idea that she ever liked him was unconvincing in Nisemonogatari and it’s unconvincing here. And the novel frankly endorses that wilful self-denial. Perhaps it’s important to always act like you’ve fallen in love for the first time. Perhaps it’s important to believe that you’ll never break up with your boyfriend. 

In this seeming endorsement of Kaiki’s ideology, I have to wonder what kind of End Hitagi is even fighting against. 

Nadeko asserts that a single failure is the End, it’s Nadekover, she has no choice but to kill everyone and then herself. In resisting her, Hitagi asserts her right to change, to move on, to love Koyomi even after her life was destroyed by Kaiki. 

On the other hand, Kaiki asserts that failure means nothing, he doesn’t care about anything that has ever happened, after this he’ll just move on and start another moneymaking scheme, same as the last. Hitagi also resists this. She must, if she is to believe her relationship with Koyomi matters in the first place. Her denial that she ever liked Kaiki ends up an odd sort of validation for their relationship. If she did crush on him, that would be important to her, therefore it didn’t happen.

It perfectly mirrors Kaiki’s refusal to admit he ever cared about her. It puts the lie to his whole persona, but, like, it’s supposed to be a lie anyway, I think. They’re both lying to each other and themselves all the time, so much so that they fail to understand even the most straightforward exchanges between them. It’s fine, honestly. They don’t need to be true to each other as long as they’re true to themselves.

One thing that I never really mentioned is the other way you could take this arc title. Hitagi End as in the end of Second Season - the end of the series as a whole, potentially, if you take Nisio’s afterwords seriously (he doesn’t, as evidenced by the several previous times he’s pulled this exact gag). 

Astute fans of the anime airing watch order will note that placing Hanamonogatari, an arc set well in the future, before this one robs it a little of that sense of finality. Nadeko is not so much of a threat, knowing our protagonists survive. This is of course the twist, the lie, the joke of this arc. Life goes on, almost interminably so. The idea that graduation would be the End for Hitagi and Koyomi is as ridiculous as the idea that making some mistakes at fourteen would be the End of Nadeko. 

Even Kaiki’s attempt to escape the narrative, put a pin in the whole thing by killing himself off, is neatly and instantly subverted by remembering his presence in Hana. It’s not supposed to be a reveal, exactly, that this man is a liar. It’s just there, from the first page to the last. 

After Ononoki cautions Kaiki that he’s acting unlike himself, before he goes to talk to Nadeko for the final time, she spends a bit of time telling him what Kagenui’s been up to. Sounded like she was the same as ever, he thinks. I think of this, amongst all his attempts to dramatize his own life, differentiate himself from himself, craft his own ending. His life keeps going on, and Kagenui’s still marching to the beat of her own drum, same as ever. 

Happy New Year!

[digonthis]

Catered Audience- Pt. 2

Spencer Agnew x f!Reader

2.2k words

( ᴅᴍ ᴏʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴛᴀɢ :] )

slow burn-ish, fluff, mutual pining, all that shit

part 1

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧♡‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

Spencer walked up to a wheezing Alex, wiping the sweat from his brow as a goofy grin spread across his face. He pulls the red hat off and tosses it at his friend, praising his acting as he caught it. “You’re improving so much on camera, this video is gonna be great man…” he manages between snickers, hanging the hat on the camera stand. “I can lie, I was a little worried at your idea of a Limp Bizkit impression at first but everyone was in tears!”

He was only half listening as Alex gave his review, eyes scanning the room. Shayne and Amanda were still on set cleaning up the dartboard and Courtney was over with the ‘audience’ of cast and crew gathered to watch. As his eyes traced everyone in the room he was disappointed to not be seeing someone specific… someone he’d never seen before.

In his few moments of peace between turns, walking to the back of the dart line had given him the chance to look over the peanut gallery of familiar smiling faces, and his stupid sunglasses had hidden the fact he’d watched the same one every time after he’d noticed it appear. Big, bright eyes and a crinkled nose when she was laughing really hard, which wasn’t near as often as others. Usually a hand would shoot up to cover her face after a moment or two, concealing her grin. It was to the point where he’d started picking her laugh out of the crowd, running bits on that he knew she’d liked. He could have sworn he saw her learning forward in her seat a little more when he was actually starting to win. She was a complete stranger on set to him, and a gorgeous one.

He kicked himself for not remembering who she was even sitting with, but he honestly couldn’t bring his eyes anywhere else. The pressure only made the jokes flow a little freer and the stakes a little higher, but now that it was over she was nowhere to be seen. The first time Spencer had ever felt somewhat pressured to win darts to impress a girl, and she didn’t even stick around after.

Spencer tuned back into what Alex was saying, he was now mentioning that the catered dinner was here. It was always cold by the time he’d gotten to it, busy with editing or meetings or some other production, but damn sure still better than anything he could make.

Dinner that night was a great time for Spencer, being the center of everyone’s attention and praises. Selina even mentioned in passing that she knew the caterer loved Limp Bizkit too, a weird coincidence. He was glad to know people liked his bits, but the random girl he’d seen earlier was the only thing at the front of his mind. He couldn’t exactly just ask anyone who she was, how would he describe that casually? What was she even wearing? Why wasn’t he just paying more attention in the first place? Why any attention at all?

…whatever.

All he could really do at this point was hope she’d be back. Or she wouldn’t. Whatever.

That was only the start of a long week of filming, and telling himself he was thankful for the distraction felt a little too weird and clingy to justify. A little bit of him did hope that she would be back to watch again soon, though. Maybe even stick around long enough for him to get a good look at her, or ask her name. Or not. Whatever.

A long sip of kickstart was just what he needed before the dreaded Eat it or Yeet it episode he was slotted in for in just a few minutes. Stupid bib and all, Spencer sat at the table dreading having to put something foul in his mouth for views. Nonetheless, he threw a smile on for the cameras and the game began with Courtney’s little explanation. Nothing caught his eye until the second-to-last dish, which he reached out and buzzed just a second after Angela had buzzed. He still made a big show of fighting her for the plate, humour for content of course. She made an ordeal of finally letting him have it, and his triumphant bite wasn’t quite as sweet as he’d hoped.

His face paled at the nasty flavour, something briney like pickles or olives disguised as a sweet treat was definitely a mental challenge and one he ended up spitting into the trash as Angela mocked him, claiming karma to be at work. He just laughed and nodded in shame, bowing his head guiltily as the others poked and prodded at the mysterious ‘food’.

His attention was soon grabbed again as the big bite was brought out, though. A stunning and gigantic layered dessert was placed in front of Angela as she clapped and cheered like a little kid. A cake, maybe? Spencer couldn’t really tell through all the commotion, all he could really tell was that it was technical, fancy, and looked a whole lot better than what he’d stolen off of her. “I’m taking this whole thing home and eating it for dinner tonight, I'm so serious!” Angela cheered before putting another bite in her mouth, amping up the energy for the end of the video.

Courtney announced the dessert’s name, mentioning it to be a custom order from their caterer. This only made Angela laugh harder, almost doubling over. She pointed a shaking finger at Spencer, her sentence taking a few tries between all her laughter.

“That’s the one- she thought you were so funny too- she watched the shoot with me literally yesterday! She even told Selina about it, right Kiana?” She puffed out, whipping her head to Kiana who nodded from behind the camera, grinning at the absurdity of the whole ordeal.

Spencer’s guilty smile dropped for a moment. “The… who?” He asked, coming to a realization. The girl from yesterday… that was the caterer. And she thought he was funny. Enough so that multiple people knew about it. She likes Limp Bizkit. She told Selina.

Luckily, Angela’s unhinged giggle fit kept cameras mostly off of him, and one dramatic pan-in on his blank, absent expression could be played off as all part of the karma and regret bit. He reached his fork over suddenly, intent on at least getting a bite of the cake. A devious grin spread across his face as he did so, snapping back to character again as his fork slid through the layers. Angela lunged for him, snatching the fork from his hand.

She kept teasing him for a while, making sure there was enough content for a long, hilarious finale to the episode. The crew ate it up, Spencer now in full-character anguish as he wasn’t allowed even a single bite. In reality, he was a little bummed about that but it was nothing compared to the quiet excitement in him knowing that the mystery girl was someone often around the office, someone who he’d never noticed from burying himself in all his editing and work. Someone he could start noticing.

The rest of the shoots in that week went well, Spencer wasn’t in many videos after that. Editing was smooth, the complimentary characters and natural banter making it fairly easy to clip and edit visuals and sound without too much fine-tuning. Send them off for review from the others, get the thumbs-up, and hit upload.

In the next little while, Smosh had two big Spencer hits in terms of memes. For Smosh Games it was obviously Fred Darts, and for Smosh Pit it was the moment Angela called out his karma and the camera zoomed into his blank, dead-eyed face. Older fans compared it to Joven from the old secret santa video, but everyone got a kick out of how defeated Spencer looked next to such a victorious and energetic Angela, with the intricate dessert receiving a lot of praise in comments too. 

This was all great for Spencer, everyone was really happy with the comedy and vibes he brought into videos. Still, he was kicking himself over the fact that he couldn’t get this girl out of his mind. She was a stranger who happened to like the same music as him, allegedly, and thought he was funny. Also allegedly. 

Smosh hadn’t made any catering orders since, it not being necessary as there were no super excessive filming hours as of late. She was nowhere to be seen, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t ask his dear friend Kiana a little more about her. Much to his disappointment, all she could really manage was a smirk and the command to ask her himself if he wanted to know anything about the girl. Mildly frustrating, but fair and expected.

Next film week, try not to laugh was up to start. In light of his great work recently, Spencer was casted for this one. He had a few good bits of his own, but once he was in the chair the cast was eager to make him break through his usually stone-faced demeanor.

A few bits were good, but not quite good enough. A few small chuckles, but he held strong. Next up was Tommy, walking out dressed as Fred Darts, and then immediately falling to his knees and spitting out his own mouthful of water as Angela comes out dressed in a chef’s coat. Spencer is confused for a second before she goes “i’m the hot caterer-” and in seconds his water is everywhere and he’s doubled over laughing wildly/

“You just have to rub it in don’t you?” He asks, already picturing the black and white jump-cut he’ll edit in later of his meme’d face after losing out on the caterer’s dessert a few weeks back. Angela and Tommy high-five, having finally broken Spencer, and Kiana shoots him a knowing look from behind the camera.

All Spencer could do was shake his head and laugh, hoping nobody else would use this obviously effective bit on him again in the episode. (They definitely did.)

Angela and Kiana were a dangerous duo, especially when it came to teasing. Everywhere Spencer went, there was a sneaky little comment. “Did your little girlfriend make you that lunch? I hear she’s a good cook…” “I hear Spence’s girl likes 90’s metal, too, I should ask her for song recs…” Just little things, enough to make his face red but nothing more.

That’s why when the next catered filming day rolls around, Spencer sticks his nose in his laptop with the excuse that he’s busy when you arrive with the food, intent on not seeing you. A literal stranger, someone he’s never even spoken to. A bad first impression with a bright red face and two teasing coworkers wouldn’t line up well with his chill guy reputation, so he would stay put until he was sure you’d be gone.

Angela was surprised at the way he’d flinched when she snuck up behind him, triggering a snicker. “Your girlfriend made you a treat~” Was all she said, placing a small box on his desk before sauntering off with an oddly genuine smile on her face.

Spencer picked up the box to take his mind off the fact that the little tease had his cheeks warming, running his finger over the neat handwriting in the corner, just his name. The package’s contents only made the small blush worse, his only choice was to laugh it off. “Dude…” He said with eyebrows raised, holding the box out to Alex, who was sitting at his own desk editing. 

Alex looked at the contents, a single cupcake with little hearts on it. “Aww, that’s cute. She made you a cupcake. I bet she saw the video.” He said casually before turning back to his work. “No way, Angela must’ve added it to the order. Another little prank or somethin’.” “Ask her yourself.” “Uh… too busy.” Spencer said back a little too quickly, still eyeing the cupcake with caution. It really was a cute cupcake, it almost looked fake with how perfectly symmetrical and flawless the decoration was.

He abandoned the small box for now, continuing to edit before Alex had the chance to egg him on any more. Alex, who soon after left to go get some dinner. The catering order receipt was stapled to one of the bags, and he couldn’t help but peek. No sign of any cupcakes on the receipt, or anything of the sort.

“Oh, did I forget somethin’?” A voice asked worriedly from behind him, the caterer herself packing up some dishware had noticed his snooping. “No, sorry. Was just curious how much this office eats.” Alex replies casually, stuffing the receipt into his pocket. “Food’s great, by the way. Everyone around here likes you a whole lot.”

This made her smile, and Alex smiled too. Everyone in the office did like her, but from what he was seeing it was definitely some a lot more than most others.

[graysontheslime]

Safety and Consent in Fandom

I don't really do this stuff, so sorry if I'm wording this all wrong. However, I think this is important enough to make a post about. This is a post about how fandom events aren't doing enough to protect teenagers from making sexual content for adults.

Teenagers cannot be making sexual content for adults for a multitude of reasons, one of them being that they cannot trust adults on the internet. Being asked to create such content for them could lead to them being pressured to create more or being hurt. Not correctly safeguarding this from happening can directly cause this to happen. 

The event that largely inspired this post, and the one I'll be talking about, is MCYT rarepair exchange (@mcyt-rarepair-exchange). It's a great idea for an exchange, and would have really recommended it, however, there's a major problem with how it's being run. Also as the response to said problem when I approached a mod was poorly handled. For the sake of privacy, I won't reveal who the mod is nor who I was assigned to.

When I got my assignment, it had NSFW prompts. This isn't a problem in of itself, however, I did not sign up nor consent to create or receive NSFW. If i was an adult, i likely would have picked the SFW prompt and moved along, but it was already a problem that i was given the option to. Because I am not an adult. I should not have been sent something with NSFW prompts, especially with the fact that I am under 18.

I asked to speak to a mod for an explanation, as this has not happened to me before, and I was confused on why I was given said assignment. This was their response:

This already raised a few flags for me, as the server and the exchange isn't 18+, and yet anyone is getting paired with NSFW content; including people who haven't consented to such. To be more specific, the exchange is 13+, which means, potentially, 13 year olds could be paired with someone asking for NSFW. Along with this, from the ao3 sign up we filled out, it made it seem as though NSFW was something to opt-in to by checking the explicit box. I did not do this, and yet I was given NSFW prompts anyways. Their system was either handled wrong or didnt work.

I figured this event must be new and didn't think this bit through too much, as I myself am running an event and have missed things to add to rules or how things are running, which have led to less than ideal solutions. However, I believe speaking up was necessary as children should not be given the opportunity to create sexual content for adults. At best, they could be creeped out as I was. At worst, it could go downhill very quickly if they decided to go for it and this could have been the start of a connection that puts them in danger.

Their response was dismissive. They didn't address the problem that I brought up, nor tried to take any measures in the future other than “taking it into consideration”. The problem here was not that I was uncomfortable. The problem is that I, someone under 18, who did not consent to being sent NSFW prompts, was sent an adult’s NSFW prompts anyways. It's not that I felt unsafe, it's that the situation was unsafe. It was said  in the event's rules that you must be 18 or older to receive or create NSFW, yet they’ve failed to stop NSFW prompts going to people under 18. 

They do seem to agree that showing 13 year olds/minors sexual content is not right, as in their Tumblr rules it says so! If the mod team describes NSFW as “anything you wouldn't feel comfortable showing to a 13 year old”, why didn't they take measures to stop NSFW prompts to going to 13-17 year olds? It's one thing to make this mistake, but another to ignore it entirely when it's as major as this one.

They, however, did not listen to me. They did not even respond to my concerns until an hour later when a different mod DMed me this, saying my concerns were in bad faith and that I questioned the mod’s competence. I do fail to see where exactly I questioned their competence. If they felt attacked or poorly treated by me voicing my concerns I do feel sorry, but I also feel that's on them to regulate. If you are a mod, you need to be able to handle criticism and handle people coming to you with safety concerns. You need to be able to take it seriously, not take it as an attack. 

I attempted to respond to the new mod, trying to re-explain myself, but  I was quite literally talking to a brick wall, as they have their dms off for people not in servers they’re in, or people who aren’t friends with them. I was also then kicked from the server for raising concern.

-

When you start to run an event, you are creating a community. And by running or modding that event, you are directly responsible for what happens inside of that community. It is irresponsible to send NSFW to minors, whether they consented for it or not. And not only that, but it is also irresponsible to send an adult’s NSFW requests to minors, for the sake of the adult! I highly doubt the adults who requested NSFW  knew they were possibly going to children! 

There was no consent given on my part to be given anything NSFW, and I highly doubt my assignment consented to their NSFW requests to be given to me as a minor. 

MCYT-Rarepair-Exchange has done a horrible job of keeping their community safe. The person running this event and their mod team are handling NSFW requests poorly, and people need to know that it is wrong to handle events like such. I did not presume ignorance on their part, but I will say now, this response to valid concerns is ignorant. 

It is ignorant to send out NSFW to minors from adults, and it is even more ignorant to not see why the hell this is a problem. 

This type of behavior needs to be addressed and changed, but by the way the mod/runner spoke to me, I am highly skeptical of that happening. I am not making this post because I want everyone who sees it to go dog pile and hate on these people, please do not do that. I'm not even making this post to change their minds and make them do something about this. I have little faith that i can with how they have handled my concerns. I'm making this because people could be dangerously taken advantage of or hurt with this. This is about more than just the Rarepair exchange, I'm making this so that people running these kinds of events know that it is not acceptable. So that teenagers who don't want to be sent sexual prompts and adults who don't want their sexual prompts to go to teenagers know that this is a problem they need to watch out for in these events. I love doing exchanges and I love being a part of the MCYT community. But seeing people creating harmful environments for people who are a part of this community, people I know, myself included, is so soul crushing. Fandoms, in large, should be a safe space where you can get away from serious things and create and have fun together. Especially exchanges! If events like this don't keep their space safe, and nobody speaks up when they fail to do so, more events could do just that, and people could get hurt. I do hope that other people running events and other mod teams can learn from this instead of repeating its mistakes.

[dykesbat]

i think gender/sexuality labels are beautiful and they’ve brought me a lot of peace and happiness but i also feel like ppl put wayyyy too much importance on labels w/o like properly discussing how they’re not like a clinical diagnosis we will or won’t fit in yk.

[moonlight-prose]

a request, if i may, of praising old man logan as he filfthly eats you out and it makes him combust the more you praise him? okay running away again

speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life

a/n: look at him taking off his glasses in absolute shock of this ask- no okay does old man logan have a praise kink? i would raise it higher and say every version of logan has a massive praise kink. this is a man who wants to know he's doing good in life. his love language is acts of service so he might get to hear a pretty thank you. also i'm not sorry for how feral this got. i have no explanation.

summary: he knew he loved you when your words begin to piece his heart back together. he knew he loved you when he flourishes at your praise. he knew he loved you when nothing in this world could matter but the sound of your voice telling him you love him too.

word count: 3k+

pairing: old man!logan x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, oral (f receiving), praise kink, logan is obsessed, dirty talk via reader, he is so pretty when he blushes, manhandling, cumplay, cumeating, overstimulation, crying, he's needy in this one, angst, tortured soul of an old man, reverence, religious trauma + greek mythology hints.

He can feel the strings of fate pull tight around his broken heart. In a failed attempt to draw him back together. To piece together an organ that barely beat for him anymore. He might have felt it once, before it broke. Before it gnarled itself like the branches of a dying tree, one half twisting away from the other in a desperate attempt of survival.

He deemed it a useless part of his body until you came along. You with your smile that held enough cloying sweetness to choke him as he stood helpless. Silently begging for you to say his name. To bring him back to life.

Whatever horrors that plagued his mind—endless nightmares that promised nothing but anguish—suddenly came crashing to a halt at the sight of you. So pretty in your denim jeans and velvet top. An angel seated in the center of a bar that held more filth than you deserved to be near. Logan couldn’t fathom that luck struck him this hard.

Not when death had already claimed his soul; notched yet another tally in the endless wall of people that came before.

He felt the dirt pack under his nails as he clawed his way out of the grave he put himself in. Years spent alone—a man lost to the ravages of time—had turned him bitter. With rough edges and biting words that stung far more than he intended. How could he believe he deserved to live after he contributed so much to the endless pool of blood that tainted his soul? How was he allowed such softness after biting off bits of brutality his whole life?

Logan was pretty sure he survived on borrowed time that had already run out. He could feel death breathe down his neck as the days went on. A reminder that what little of his life remained would be spent suffering. And he found that accepting it was easier than battling against the will of God, or whoever toyed with his lifeline.

It was far easier to die than find a reason to live.

Until you said his name.

Softly. Sweetly. Reverence wrapped in a tight grasp of need.

You brought him back from the edge—took his hand and refused to take no for an answer. You and the safety of your touch; the promise in your kiss. You dragged him into a life he didn’t earn; one that almost tasted too sweet—too sour.

After near a decade of being buried beneath the dirt, he felt himself collapse above ground and suck in his first real gasp of fresh air. Alive, once more. Hell spit him out with a vow of love and who was he to argue against it.

His fingers dug into your plush thighs, tugging them open to see what lay between. He marveled at their softness, eyes wide and awestruck at the sight of you spread beneath him. You practically glowed in the dim light of the bedside table. Yellow, musty, yet angelic when it caressed your body with its heavenly touch.

He wondered if this was real life; your nails digging sharply into his shoulders gave him the answer.

"Logan," you sighed, voice high with need.

The strings pulled taught. A vice like hold that drew him to you.

Maybe that's what this unutterable feeling was. The gnawing pit at the bottom of his heart. A greed he'd never indulged before—too afraid of what it might ask for next. He wasn't a man who asked for much. Rather someone that found himself far too content with nothing. But tonight he found his lips forming the words of a false prayer that his mother taught him as a child.

Hail the angel in his bed. Hail every good fucking thing you brought into his life.

His teeth sunk into your thigh, body jolting at your responding moan. Fingers dug into his hair, tugging at the mussed locks with a high pitched whine. You were a needy little thing, but Logan found he desperately wanted to be needed.

He smiled laving his tongue over the tender spot, working his way up to where you dripped for him.

So slick. So perfect.

Saliva filled his mouth. "What do ya want baby?"

Your chest heaved; he could feel the heat of your body under his palms. "Your m-mouth Logan."

His eyes trailed along your brow covered in a sheen of sweat. The room was thick with the humid air of the outside world. But that didn't deter him from craving your skin near his. The pressure of your thighs around his head a welcome weight. If he sunk his teeth in where the curve of your leg met your hip he knew he could draw out that soft choking noise he longed to hear on days spent driving alone.

If he had his way he'd crawl into you to seek your serenity straight from the source. He'd never divulge about the ache that chewed him up on the inside, but Logan wondered if you knew. Could you tell how much he craved you? How much he couldn't live without you.

When your glittering eyes met his, the resolve he spent years building cracked like glass. You peered into him as if he was a stained glass window. A god you were more than happy to worship.

"You want me to lick this pretty pussy?" Fuck, he sounded drunk off your taste already.

His mouth hovered over your throbbing clit, your scent now filling his senses. Overwhelming him with what he wanted most. But he needed to hear it. The lilt of your begging; the soft echo of your need that washed over him like soothing river water.

He couldn't live without it.

"Yes," you sobbed, thigh twitching.

The string sliced his heart open, blood pooling onto the white bed sheets. Oh what a sweet death your love made. Oh...what a bittersweet way to go.

He'd die right now if you asked him to. Hand over his heart on a silver platter if you so wished it. Maybe that made him far too gone for his own good, but Logan couldn't remember a time in his life where he got this. Safety. The hope of love burning far too bright and far too hot for him to fly near it.

Yet there he was. Icarus happily soaring in your sun like glow.

"I got ya honey," he murmured. "Gonna take care of what's mine."

You nodded frantically—tears welling up in your eyes. "You take care of me Logan."

The breath in his chest stuttered, eyes dark as the words fell past your swollen lips. He wanted to explain why his cock twitched against his stomach. Why he now leaked into the sheet with heavy panted breaths. But every time he came up short with the words needed to form an answer.

"Yeah I do sweetheart," he breathed. "Don't I?"

"Uh-huh."

"Take care of what belongs to me."

There was no warning when his hands dragged you closer with a rough tug, mouth closing over your clit with a desperate suck. A cry wrenched from your mouth, sparks sharply traveling down your spine. He licked through your slick with a growl. Hands an unbreakable press against your thighs.

The sight of your body bowed, mouth open for small gasped breaths that never came, snapped something in his mind. He was an old man. Well past his years. But the taste of your pussy along his tongue brought back a ferocity he often tamped down in his younger age. He felt the feral want claw at his chest, and answered it with a broken snarl.

Swallowing down every drop you gave him, he plunged his tongue into your entrance, thrusting messily until a smear of your shiny slick began to coat his mouth. It covered his cheeks and clung to the hair of his beard. He'd clean it out later, taste you on his tongue until he was aching for another go. But for now he was preoccupied with the way you cried for him.

"Oh fuck!" Your thighs trembled over his shoulders, hips canting down to drag yourself along his tongue. "So good."

He shuddered, eyes rolling back at the sound of your praise. You caught it within seconds, lips pulling into a breathless smile that left him gasping for air. His teeth nipped at your thigh briefly as his hips ground into the mattress below.

"You like that baby?" you breathed, thumb smearing your own slick against his cheek.

Something hot washed over his body. A needy sick and twisted ache that he'd never indulged in before. He wanted to be a good man to you; longed to be needed. And fuck if you didn't give him everything.

You were his walking wet dream. His future handed off and wrapped in a neat little bow.

"L-Love your tongue Logan-" A high gasp tore from your throat when he dived back in. Slurping at your clit with a heady moan as you dragged him closer. "Taking care of me so well."

His hips canted down into the bed, fucking his cock along the warmth of his stomach, as you gushed into his mouth again. Eyes zeroed in on your face, pupils dilated as he growled into your flesh. You no longer could see the man you loved, but the feral side he tamped down during the day. The animal he longed to release in your presence.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum."

His arms looped around your thighs and with a sharp yank, he had his face buried deep enough to suffocate himself. You sobbed an incoherent version of his name. Nails clawed at his shoulders, but Logan could feel the pulse of your clit under his tongue.

He sucked it into his mouth with a grunt, rolling it along his tongue as you trembled with the oncoming shocks of an orgasm that threatened to destroy you.

Tears dripped down your cheeks and Logan felt the satisfying part of his heart begin to stitch itself back together. The strings were tight enough to numb his pain. To quell the flare of agony.

That used to be all he knew, all he counted on most days. When there was nothing left and he'd propped the shovel in the dirt—his grave open and waiting—he stumbled right into your arms. He found his reason for living.

Heat curled around his spine as you shook with the impending orgasm—the stimulation on your clit practically debilitating. He grunted into your soaked flesh, eyes narrowed as he chased the release that pulled his stomach taut. But this wasn't for him to indulge in; this wasn't his pleasure.

So with a throaty moan you felt reverberate along your body, he scraped his teeth along your clit and watched as your body went stiff.

"Logan!" you cried, fingers scrambling for purchase on any part of him you could reach.

You gushed into his awaiting mouth, praises of it's so good, you're so good falling upon his ears like the whimpered prayers of a devout worshiper thanking your god.

"Taste so fuckin' good," he mumbled, drunk on what you gave him.

He didn't care that you were jolting with each pass of his tongue along your pussy. He didn't care that you were shocked with overstimulation, small broken cries of his name muffled by the press of your thighs against his ears. He licked at you until he couldn't breathe. Buried his tongue into your twitching entrance and sucked out your cum with a happy hum.

"P-Please." You tugged at his hair, pulling him off you with a sob. "I-I can't anymore Logan."

"'M not fuckin' finished," he said, eyes glazed and face coated in your slick.

You made a mess of his face. The light catching along where you spilled into his mouth and along his throat. And still he wanted more. He'd spend hours between your thighs, burning your skin with his beard, if it meant he could divulge in your sweetness.

"It hurts-"

A grunt rumbled in his chest, his arms tugging you back even as your feet kicked along his back. "Just one more honey. Yeah?"

You shook your head. "B-But-"

"Thought you said it was good."

"It is."

"Then lemme be good for you." He wanted to tell you that the world went quiet between your thighs. That all his grief, all his pain, lessened when you sobbed his name.

He wanted to show you the string that looped his heart to yours—the only thing keeping him alive—and thank you for bringing him back from the dead. But words weren't his forte. Violence had become the only tenderness he knew and you didn't deserve the rough edges of an old man. You should have more.

But when you let him touch you like this—caress your skin and lick between your folds—he felt as if he was a man who finally was worthy of someone as precious as you. He could pretend he didn't bear the brunt of a fucked up soul.

The weight on his chest lifted when your tear filled gaze met his and you nodded. Small, barely there, but it was enough for him to seal his mouth back over you with a ragged moan. Your body shook as his tongue slid through the seam of your pussy. The tip nudging against your clit—careful to draw the pleasure from your body slowly.

He didn't want to give you pain. His heart wouldn't survive that. But he was a broken man; someone who begged for more even as his teeth sunk into what was already given.

You were his meal. His sacrament in the midnight hours until dawn broke across the darkened sky. You were the other half of his soul.

How could he not indulge in your sweetened tang until his tongue went stiff?

"I love you," you sighed, eyes rolled back when he sucked at your pussy, a wet low moan echoing in the air. "My p-perfect husband."

The cold press of his wedding band against your thigh drove him over the edge. You weren't officially married. Didn't have the backyard wedding with a preacher to match. But Logan had placed a ring on your finger near a year ago, sliding one over his own with the vow of forever cemented in his words.

Even if that didn't mean much in the eyes of a god who abandoned him near a century ago.

"Oh-"

Your head tipped back, mouth dropping open as his fingers dipped into your wet heat. Thrusting lazily until he found the spongey patch along your walls—driving the pad of his middle finger into it with a needy moan.

He knew it wouldn't take long for you to fly off the edge of a second release. That didn't make watching you climb to that peak any less satisfying. The sight appeased his soul. It gave him a chance to breathe; let him know that after so much bad—after so much pain—he could do something good. He could bring you to the edge of pleasure and drag you over again and again.

He could finally be the man you believed he was.

Not the animal they created.

"C'mon," he muttered. Eyes fixed on the shape of your breasts as your body curved off the bed. Hips dragging along his face with a stunted cry.

A wail bounced off the walls, piercing his eardrums with the symphony of your cries. His fingers rapidly pumped into you with a squelch that had heat burning his cheeks—lips pulling your throbbing clit into his mouth as you broke. The climax slammed into you; battering your already swollen pussy.

Logan could feel his cock swell at the sight.

"Fuckin' perfect," he grunted, teeth bared as he clambered to his knees and wrapped his fist soaked in your slick around his leaking cock. "'M gonna cum sweetheart."

Your eyes fluttered open, fingers digging into his thigh. "Please. Wanna see it baby. Look so pretty when you cum Logan."

His chest tightened, body shaking while you watched in rapture as he fucked his fist rapidly. He wouldn't fucking last, could feel the burning consume his body, but something held him back. The string around his heart yanked him away from the edge, tearing a cry from his throat when his frustration peaked.

You could see it—the glimmer of need in his dark eyes. This wasn't the first time he longed for your words. It certainly wouldn't be the last.

So you spread your legs and sat up slowly—arms wrapping around his shoulders to bring his lips down to yours. A soft moan was muffled by your mouth; the peak of his release within reach. He could practically feel the tips of his fingers graze it.

"Cover my pussy baby," you mumbled into his mouth. "Be good for me and mark what's yours."

The growl came from the very bottom of his chest when he finally came. Your name was a bitten out snarl pressed to your mouth in an open mouth kiss as he spurted over his knuckles. He pumped his cock to milk every drop; eyes fixed on the way it covered the swollen lips of your pussy. Dripping down to your entrance that fluttered at the sight of his sweaty and crimson tinged face.

"I fuckin' love ya honey," he murmured, hand cupping your chin to drag your lips back to his. "Best thing that's happened in my life is you."

You smiled, thumbs pressing to his cheeks. "Love you too Logan."

Clutching you close, he felt the string go loose. The breath finally rushing back into his lungs at the sight of your eyes glowing with the kind of light that brought him back to the first day The night he met you in that shitty bar—alcohol the only thing on his mind until he saw you.

The night you spoke his name over his covered grave and dragged him back to life with a smile.

[flwrkid14]

Tim and Danny: Love, Trust, and the Weight of Protection

part 1

Danny knows what it's like to be hunted.

It’s been his reality for as long as he can remember—forever glancing over his shoulder, never truly at ease. Between vengeful ghosts, government agents, and countless other dangers, his survival has depended solely on his instincts, his powers, and the fickleness of luck. He has his friends—two best friends and a sister who would drop everything to stand by him, who he knows would always have his back. But the weight of that reliance feels heavy, a burden he can't quite shake.

Trusting others, truly leaning on them, has always felt like a luxury he couldn’t afford. He wants to feel safe, to let someone else take some of the weight, but the thought of putting them in danger because of him? That’s a risk he can't bring himself to take.

Then he meets Tim Drake.

At first, Tim’s protectiveness doesn’t faze him. It’s Gotham. You don’t date a Wayne-adjacent vigilante and expect anything less than a little paranoia. Danny’s been through worse. A tracker on his phone? Standard. Tim pulling files on his professors? Honestly, kind of funny.

But then, Danny finds out how deep it goes.

He stumbles upon a folder on Tim’s desk—his name printed neatly on the tab. Inside? Background checks on his classmates, neighbors and friends. Surveillance reports. A detailed map of his daily routine. Heart rate data. Sleeping patterns. Eating habits. There’s even a file on Phantom.

For a moment, Danny froze.

This should terrify him—it used to. Being watched, tracked for his every move, reminded him too much of those who hunted him, who’d wanted to tear him apart and dissect him like a lab rat. His first instinct was always to run.

But at that moment? He felt... safe. The notes in the margins weren’t cold or clinical like the ones his parents would have written. No, instead, they were worried. Make sure he’s eating enough. Possible threat? Keep an eye on this one. Look for ectoplasmic spikes—could mean trouble.

This wasn’t someone trying to control him. This was someone trying to protect him.

Tim’s not like the people who hunted him in Amity Park. There’s no malice in what he does. No intent to control or hurt. It’s all fear. Love, even. Danny can see it in Tim’s eyes when he stammers through an explanation, bracing himself for anger or rejection.

He’s scared Danny will leave.

And that’s what gets Danny.

No one has ever cared for him like this, no one willing to go through such lengths just to ensure his safety. Yeah, it’s intense, maybe unhealthy, even by the standards of a world that isn’t known for its normalcy. Danny knows Sam, Tucker, and Jazz would do the same—they’ve all put their lives on the line for him before, and he loves them for it. But Tim is different.

Tim is strong enough to face the dangers of Danny’s world and carry the weight of his burdens without hesitation. It’s something Danny could never ask his friends to do—not because they wouldn’t, but because they have their own lives, their own paths. They would drop everything for him, just as Tim would, but Tim does it with the resolve of a vigilante, already living a life where protecting others is his duty. This is someone who understands the risks, who’s already made those sacrifices, and still chooses to say, “I will protect you, no matter the cost.”

So, he smiles. He kisses Tim’s cheek. And he asks, “Can I put a tracker on you too?”

The way Tim’s eyes light up? Yeah, Danny thinks. This is love.

-----------------

The batfamily doesn’t get it.

They corner Danny one day, all serious expressions and careful words.

“Danny, we’re worried,” Dick starts, voice soft. “About Tim?” Danny tilts his head. “About both of you,” Steph says. “This… surveillance thing. It’s not normal.”

Danny shrugs. “Neither am I.”

They might understand—on some level. They’d lived through their own kind of danger, faced their own threats. But for Danny, it was different. They didn’t grow up being hunted, didn’t spend years hiding from people who wanted to tear them apart just for existing. For him, trusting the wrong person wasn’t just a risk; it was a matter of life and death.

Tim’s methods might be extreme, but Danny sees the intent behind them. It’s not control. It’s care. Tim watches his back because he knows what it’s like to lose people. Danny lets him because he knows what it’s like to be alone.

“Tim’s the first person who’s made me feel safe,” Danny tells them, voice steady. “You see obsession. I see someone who cares enough to watch my back.”

They don’t know what to say to that.

-----------------

Their relationship isn’t conventional. But in a city like Gotham, love isn’t always soft and simple. Sometimes, it’s vigilance. Sometimes, it’s knowing someone’s tracking your heartbeat because they’d die if it ever stopped.

Tim watches over Danny. Danny watches over Tim. It’s not about control—it’s about trust. About knowing that, no matter what, someone’s got your back.

The bats worry. They whisper about boundaries, red flags and healthy relationships.

Danny doesn’t listen. He knows what he’s got.

In a world where ghosts and vigilantes collide, where danger lurks in every shadow, Danny’s finally found someone who won’t let him face it alone.

And that? That’s everything.

[criminalamnesia]

HIIII!!! I just wanted to say that i really love ur writing! I've read ur traitor series and I can't wait for part 4! I'm a new author, and english isn't my first language, so it's sometimes very hard for me to write bcs i'm stil not that good, but ur fics have helped me improve<3💗!

thank you so much!🫶 im glad you’ve enjoyed the series! and speaking of part four, here it is :)

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

simon didn’t turn to watch you leave the gym.

he stood there, eyes forward, mask clenched in one fist. he could feel the blood drying on his skin. he made no move to wipe it away.

he didn’t blame you for your anger— he couldn’t. he understood the rage. had felt it himself a time or two.

but he couldn’t take everything lying down.

did he deserve your wrath, your fury? yes— and he knew that. there was no making up for what he did; he realized that, but why couldn’t you understand?

he’d never fully taken his walls down around you, and that was no fault of your own. he was a guarded man, and his past gave him every right to be.

he had been burned and broken too many times. he’d seen the people he loved murdered because of him.

he swore he would never let that happen again. he put those walls up, and you knocked some of them down.

but there were some you’d never gotten through, at least, simon told himself you hadn’t. there was always something he was holding back, a piece of himself he wouldn’t give freely. he told himself it was because he couldn’t stand to love you so deeply and then watch you leave.

but really, it was because he needed an out. he needed a way to justify his leaving if something ever happened— and that’s what got him here.

simon trusted the 141 with his life. he trusted his captain with his life. price had never led him astray; john knew his face well before any of the others. well before you.

and when someone you trust so deeply, someone you’ve followed for years, tells you that the person you love has betrayed your team?

you can’t help but believe them. and that’s what simon did.

the evidence was coincidental at first. wrong place, wrong time. but then, everything started to seem like more than a coincidence. pieces of a complicated puzzle were fitting together. things only you and the rest of the 141 would know were leaked.

and all the signs pointed to you.

and although he didn’t want to, simon couldn’t help it. the second price had confided in him that you may be the rat, simon began to distance himself. you had been confused, but he had offered no explanation.

price was the one to question you first. it was a heated conversation in his office, consisting of him showing you the evidence and you becoming furious at the accusations.

johnny came to you next, buttering you up with his flirtatious and unarming words before asking if you’d leaked information.

then there was kyle, who pleaded for the truth. he told you that a case was being built against you, and that if you came clean now, things wouldn’t be so bad.

simon never tried to talk to you about it. the other men would tell him what you’d said, but he had never gone to talk to you himself.

maybe it was pride. simon wasn’t trusting, not after his past. he had let the 141 in, had let you in. and now you were a suspected traitor, and he was angry at himself. angry he hadn’t seen it sooner; angry he’d let you in at all.

but maybe it was hurt. hurt that you’d done this to him, to the team, after knowing everything they’d been through. after stitching up wounds on the battlefield and taking bullets for one another. after sharing simon’s bed and whispering you loved him.

all he knew was that he trusted price. and as evidence built, so did the distance between the two of you, until you were tied to that chair.

and simon had taken his hurt, his anger, out on you. he wasn’t proud of it, and he knew now that he was wrong. but he was still a little angry. angry because you couldn’t see his side of things— not like he could see yours.

so, he was an ass. he didn’t apologize. he snuck flowers to your bedside but kept his distance. he told you to watch your tone because you were still part of the team, and speaking to price like that was only something an outsider would do.

and he told you that he’d spared your life because he had. anger had consumed him, and truthfully, you were lucky he hadn’t done worse.

even if he’d smothered his feelings for you with rage, he still harbored love for you, and that’s why some part of him held back.

he knew you would probably never forgive him. he had made his peace with that.

but he couldn’t stand the fact that you couldn’t understand why he’d done what he did.

the creak of the gym door opening broke simon from his thoughts. he pulled his mask back on before turning around and making his way to the door.

it took one firm knock on the door for price to answer.

the door clicked open, and price sighed when he saw simon, scrubbing a hand over his unruly beard before letting the taller man in. price turned, walking back to his desk chair, while simon closed the door behind him and locked it.

“this is a bloody mess,” the captain said, falling heavily into the chair. it squeaked at the sudden weight, old leather crinkling and crackling.

“doc came and saw me earlier, ‘fore she left for the night. told me about some new injuries, and yelled at me for letting that happen.”

simon didn’t speak. price’s eyes met his, and he sighed again.

“fuckin’ hell, simon. what the fuck did you say? doc said she had to stitch up both their hands.”

“doesn’t matter what I say,” simon spoke, eyes still on the captain “they won’t fuckin’ listen.”

price shook his head. “that’s not true, ‘nd we both know it,” he sounded tired as he spoke, dark bags under his eyes. he paused for a moment, then spoke again.

“spoke to laswell after you left earlier. she said she’ll try to speed up the transfer process. tryin’ to avoid more fuss, and im not fightin’ it any longer.”

“they’re part of our team,” simon spoke, tone rough.

price shook his head. “they are, but I can’t keep doin’ this. can’t keep pushin’ off transferin’ because of you lot. it may be better for us, but not for them.”

the room fell quiet. simon inhaled, exhaled. his fists clenched at his sides before quickly unfurling once more.

he didn’t have a right to be mad at you for leaving, but he was.

“laswell say anythin’ else about tha’ transfer?” simon asked.

price leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “not much. no word on where or with who, but even if she knew, doubt she’d tell us. for their sake.”

simon gave a small nod and made to turn, but froze as price spoke again.

“she did say she didn’t know if it would go through. they’d have to pass another eval.”

they both knew what that meant. if laswell said that, then she didn’t believe the transfer would happen. kate wouldn’t outwardly say it, but price had known what she’d meant.

pushing the transfer through wouldn’t matter if you couldn’t pass a physical and psychological evaluation— and laswell didn’t think you could.

although he wouldn’t admit it, price was unsure, too. torture was something that took an incredibly devastating toll on the mind and body.

but torture at the hands of your team? there was no telling the damage that that would do to someone. to you.

an honorable discharge was more likely. and, if that was the case, then your rage would likely grow tenfold.

you career, your livelihood, taken from you by the hands of the men you trusted the most. your family, cutting you up and pushing you out.

damned by your team and your country, regardless of everything you’d done for both of them during your service.

you were just another cog in the machine, one that had been damaged and discarded, and a discharge couldn’t make that any clearer.

he thought back to what you had said in the gym earlier, before you’d left.

‘you should have killed me.’

maybe he should have.

thanks to everyone for your patience! also just incase you didn’t see my post about it—

im no longer doing a taglist! my side blog @troiastitans will reblog my works from now on, so if you want to know when I post, follow that account and allow notifications!

as always, thank you for the love! (also I hope you all enjoyed a little peek into simon’s head!)

[starlightbright]

RIP Ricky September they had to kill you because it would have been unrealistic to not keep you on as a companion 😔

EDIT: I've noticed some people taking this post really seriously, so to clarify: no, I don't think Ricky was literally a perfect uwu anti-racist angel. This post was mostly a joke about how he was running around doing companion shit and, most of all, how the Doctor and Ruby both thought he was a hottie. My actual feelings about Ricky are that he's a complacent white liberal. Character reading under the cut if you want an explanation.

I do think the implications of making him unplugged from the racism bubble, paralleling him with the Doctor (man who shows up with knowledge about history and technology and guides the other character through dangerous situations), and directly contrasting to Lindy (including being open to trust the Doctor without second guessing him the same way Lindy and all her friends did) are supposed to be that he wasn't like the other people there and is thus LESS racist since racism comes to be what defines their society. I've seen some people basically ask "then why'd he move to White People City?" but within the text it's actually Rich People City; the reason everyone there is white is because systemic racism financially benefits white people. Making him LESS racist is NECESSARY to giving his death any meaning - because if he definitively would have called the Doctor a slur and walked away, then the Dot killing him quickly was a mercy kill because we KNOW all the other residents are going to die in the wilderness.

THAT SAID, I also don't think he was a progressive anti-racist. Do you know what Ricky actually is? A white liberal. He might disengage from the White People Bubble, he might not be outwardly cruel to black people, but he's still surrounded by people who are and benefits from a system where ONLY WHITE PEOPLE ARE RICH. The culture might be fucked, but he still benefits from it without doing anything to actually fight it. It's like how many a white liberal will read about the history of slavery, feel sad about it, and then be uncritical of prison labor. If Ricky was meant to be progressive, there'd be something, ANYTHING in the text about how he's tried to educate his followers on their society's problems, but it got deleted. He is COMPLACENT.

That's sort of the point, I'd say, since the theme is about how priviledged white people put themselves in a bubble of people like them and choose to look away from what's wrong in society. Those people become complacent at best with no effort to actually speak out or change things. Hell, even within the text, Ricky SEES a problem others are looking away from (the slugs eating people), but only tries to fight it by making a TikTok about it and becomes complacent again, accepting that people are just going to be eaten.

So tl;dr: no, I don't think the white liberal kid literally would have been a companion. I think if you stuck him in the Ood episode, for example, he'd have shaken his head when he found out about their plight, maybe made a TikTok with sad music playing over footage of them, and then said "welp, nothing else can be done." I think it's FUNNY to imagine another companion that the Doctor and Ruby both are giggling like schoolgirls over.

Also I kind of thought he was ugly - no offense to the actor but the makeup they had him in combined with the lighting and closeups made him look way older than 27 so he gave off this uncanny "how do you do fellow kids?" look.

[reidrum]

the many names | s.r

a/n: i could not get the idea that spencer would have little explanations for all the names he has for you so i give you this enjoy

summary: in which the many names that spencer calls you each have a special meaning

cw: mind rotting fluff

wc: 1.1k

honey:

spencer’s childhood was anything but ordinary. graduating high school at 12, with a schizophrenic mother, and an absentee father is a combo meant to mess anyone up. the one thing he felt was constant were the sitcoms his mother would watch when she had her good days. shows like i love lucy and cheers filled his ears as he watched the picture perfect families navigate through mundane and seemingly normal scenarios. the comfort he found in these televised families, something he wasn’t afforded in his own, was a nice little bandaid on the gaping hole left by the oddities of his life.

until he met you, of course. you changed everything for him, showed him what it meant to be loved and cherished, what family really was outside of the textbook definition. as a young boy he’d always envied ricky ricardo coming home to lucy at the end of every work day, bursting through the door and saying “honey, i’m home!” the phrase itself encompassed what he so dearly longed for; a home.

so when spencer calls you honey, he means it because you’re sweet and sappy and all the things normally associated with honey. but for him, specifically, when he gets to come back from harsh cases, bursting through the door of your shared apartment yelling “honey, i’m home!”, it heals that gaping hole from his childhood little by little, replacing the wound with the home you’ve built together.

sweetheart:

for someone who absolutely loves sweet things, calling you sweetheart was an obvious title in his book. the way you cared so deeply for the people in your life, the people you didn’t know, even those involved in heinous crimes were offered some of your never ending empathy. it inspired him, to know that someone who sees the true horrors of humankind on the daily can still hold hope and love for the world’s inhabitants.

when spencer calls you sweetheart, it’s in the more domestic moments of your lives. when he asks which tea you want, when he can tell it’s been a rough day and he lets you rest in the comfort of his arms saying “it’s okay, sweetheart. i’m here now.”, when he leaves you long and loving voicemails for when you’re not able to go on cases together. spencer’s sweet tooth could probably never be satiated, but if it keeps you around forever he has no problem with that.

angel:

calling you angel is still something he finds a little ironic. he’s an agnostic atheist, has no faith in the gods or whatever power that may be. he’d always say if you couldn’t find it in a textbook then it’s not a real thing. but here you were, defying literally everything he ever knew or thought he knew. spencer thinks that if angels were personified they would surely look like you.

his job has so many moments that put him in near death situations, he’s not proud of how many times he’s felt the pearly gates come for him. but every time he was close to that end, flashes of you would roll through his mind like a movie reel and it would tether him back to this realm.

add to that, you just always happened to be there when he needed you. if he was about to drop a cup of coffee you’d be there grab it, you had his back when you were on the field together, and you’d let him talk your ear off about the most obscure topic just to see him smile.

if proof existed for the theoretical, it would be you. you were his guardian angel, and he never let you forget it.

princess:

this one was rare, only invoked in the super intimate and special moments between you both. usually in the bedroom is where you hear this one used in both sides of the extreme. on one side he says it when you’re being just so needy, so pliant and willing for whatever he wants it just makes him want to give you everything in return. on the other side, when you’re being for lack of a better word, a brat, it’s used as a tease, a taunt for your slutty bad behavior. a reminder that even though you’re spoiled by him he’s still going to give you the world.

it’s also used when you both get dressed up, for an fbi event or a party at rossi’s. it always takes the wind out of him when he sees you getting ready or you come out to show your outfit to him. it makes him feel like falling in love with you again every time, like he’s been so blessed to live a fairytale where he prevails and gets the princess at the end.

baby:

calling you baby is quite literally second nature to spencer, probably the easiest thing for him to do. it slips out all the time people might think baby is your real name. he uses it when he asks what you want for dinner, when you’re upset over something he did at work that put him in danger, when he just really wants you to watch this one russian romance film he finally got his hands on and promises you’ll love it.

you also find it really funny to play songs that you know he doesn’t know that have the word baby in it, because even if he doesn’t know the words to always be my baby to mariah carey, it never stops him from giving you the biggest smile in the universe when he listens to you belt the song to him.

pretty girl:

he didn’t even come up with this one, derek did. stemming from his nickname for spencer, when derek realized that there was something between you and pretty boy, it just became so easy to get under his skin and call you pretty girl, telling him “don’t look now, your pretty girl is coming.”. before you had started dating and spencer was just pining from afar, he would get so red in the face when derek would let the name slip.

after he finally grew some balls and asked you out, spencer adopted the name for himself to use in situations he had you alone, where he could admire you in your entirety and no other prying eyes. to use when you just wake up and the sunlight hits you perfectly like a glowing halo, or when you’re both in the office and you’re explaining something relevant to the case and you just sound so smart and beautiful, and he can’t help but truly believe that the aphrodite reincarnate is his.

[astrow1zar6]

Astrology Observations- 34

Capricorn moons are very uncomfortable expressing emotions and can get kinda weird when others express strong emotions to them. A lot of cap moons felt they needed to detach from their emotions to survive when young so it can be harder for them to get in tune with their emotional nature. (They are surprisingly sensitive tho however)

Mercury in Pisces usually struggled with logical thinking and speaking when growing up. They usually understand things without having to think about them it’s like they get a hunch and just know without explanation but they usually have a hard time expressing what they know in logical terms so that others can understand. Because of this inability many people might’ve thought they weren’t smart or are never paying attention.

Sun in the 1st house people are so magnetic. Even if they barely speak they usually have a a bunch of people trying to date them or be their friend. If any of you ever watched Naruto I feel like Sasuke definitely had this placement. He really didn’t care to be around anyone or socialize but people were so obsessed with him. They just have the IT factor whether they realize it or not.

Moon in Leo’s really enjoy being babied by people especially by their partners! They really crave emotional attention low-key.

Mars in the 8th house people can be without human touch for too long or they start acting really unstable. They are very physical people.

Saturn in the 8th house people don’t really experience true intimacy till later in life. I’ve seen a lot of people with this placement deal with very surface level relationships that are usually unsatisfying. they deeply fear emotional connections mainly because they are very sensitive to criticism and rejection which causes them to avoid it completely. when things get too deep they put up more walls which prevents their relationships from blossoming past a certain point. As they age however they will learn to trust others more.

Pisces sun/moons loved to play pretend when they were kids. They were always pretending they were fairytale creatures and usually had imaginary friends.

Jupiter in Leo is such a slay placement. If you have this placement you ARE the main character (especially if it’s in the 1st, 2nd, 7th or 10th house) chefs kiss 😘 🤌🏼

Virgo moons can be veryyyy petty when mad mad. I know a lot who enjoy throwing others flaws in their face, they can be very notorious for that (if underdeveloped however) they can be more impulsive with their words than Aries moons at times.

Leo risings can be very blinded by others beauty. I’ve seen some that date the shittiest people just cuz they’re attractive they can be very superficial (similar to libra rising) they just really appreciate beauty and love showing off attractive partners they can almost see it like a trophy.

Pisces sun/mercury can become very confused easily. They can be listening to someone so intently and then completely forget what they were talking about or vice versa they can be telling a story to someone and then in the middle of the story completely forget what they’re talking about 😂 (I’m guilty for this 😭)

Sag risings could’ve been called obnoxious a lot growing up :(

Leo suns love attention negative and positive. That’s why they usually take fame better than most signs they just really love being seen.

Having a lot of 3rd house placements can make even the most introverted person talk A LOT. Especially when it’s in Venus or mercury. When given an opportunity they can yap all day and when it’s something they’re into you’ll never hear the end of it😂 it’s very cute tho

If a Capricorn rising looks really bothered while you are talking to them they are lol. They HATE pointless yap.

Saturn in 7th house have DADDY ISSUES!!!

Moon in 5th house composite is sooooo adorable 🥺 you feel so happy inside being near them even if you don’t say a word to eachother you just want them there. You also love touching eachother.

[minarinnn]

“notice me” pt2

luke castellan x aphrodite!reader | pt1

content/trigger warnings: fem!reader, SMUTT, p in v, virgin!luke, unprotected sex, rough sex, bold!reader

it’s been a week since that day and you haven’t spoken to luke at all. if he didn’t know any better, he’d say you were ignoring him

you were. but this was all part of your twisted game. he made you wait for months, now it’s his time to wait. you wanted him to feel how you felt, maybe then you’ll give into your desires

you’d pretend not to see him, or be busy with studying or teaching your younger half-siblings. luke grew more and more impatient by the minute. he knew that you had always been a master at playing with peoples feelings, being aphrodite’s daughter and all, but this was going too far. he didn't understand why you were ignoring him when it was you who wanted his attention in the first place

every time he saw that you were free, you would leave. you wouldn’t even shoot him your flirty smile like you always did, all you did was spare him a simple glance

he felt like he was going insane, he’s never had to fight for your attention. it just came naturally. how you’d bat your eyelashes at him while complimenting his fighting style, or how you’d place your hand on his bicep as you spoke to him

he never thought he’d be the one doing the chasing. so, finally, after what felt like an eternity of being ignored, luke had had enough. he walked up to your dining table, interrupting your conversation with your half-sister, drew. “hey, can we talk?” he spoke, voice low and almost sounding desperate

“sure” you agree, watching as he bites the inside of his cheek. “in private” he mutters out, eyes boring into your own. you nod, following him to the storage shed just outside his cabin.

you enter the small, dark shed, feeling luke’s intense gaze on you. it feels almost like it's burning holes into your skin, like he's trying to see right through you. he leaned on the wall, crossing his arms under his chest, his muscles subconsciously flexing showing just how toned his muscles actually are

luke took a deep breath before speaking, his voice low and serious. "so, why’ve you been ignoring me all week?" his eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of an explanation. you remained composed, not wanting to give away the game you were playing. "my world doesn’t revolve around you, castellan” you said with a playful smile

luke clicked his tongue, clearly frustrated. "dont play games with me, you know exactly what I'm talking about” he took a step closer to you, eyes locked on yours “answer my question”

you felt your heart pound in your chest as luke steadily closed the distance between you. his presence was inescapable, and the tension between you was palpable. you felt yourself getting needier by the second. the way your pussy throbbed at just his words had you weak

you looked at him through hooded eyes, a playful smile still tugging at your lips. “you wanna know that bad, huh?” you said, putting your hands to his toned chest. “you drive me insane” he whispered, lust practically pouring out of his body

“i know” you chuckled softly. luke just looks at you, his expression unreadable. leaning in, he finally kisses you. the kiss is sudden and fierce, his lips pressing against yours with a hunger that you haven't seen in him before. you wrap your arms around luke’s neck, pulling him closer to you. the kiss becomes more desperate as he pushes you against the wall, it was more urgent, as if neither of you could get enough of the other

his hands are quick to find their way under your shirt, groping your breast over your bra. he was desperate to get the fabric off of you, desperate to feel you

he takes his own shirt off, you following suit. you giggle as his fingers fumble on the clip of your bra, fingers stumbling against each other as he blindly tries to take it off. you help him, of course.

his mouth quickly latches on to one of your perky nipples, groaning with a sense of satisfaction while his fingers pinch the other, making you squirm under his touch

your fingers pull and scratch on his scalp, a feeling he’s seeming to enjoy to the fullest, given the way he’s moaning against your skin. your free hand undoes his belt, efficiently pulling his pants down under his hips. a voice in the back of his head wanted to ask you if you’ve done this before, but he was too fucking horny to wanna do anything else in that moment

he’s panting, face flushed as he pull don’t your shorts along with your panties, biting his lip to prevent the whine he was gonna let out once he saw the mess you’ve made on your panties. he hasn’t even done much, talk about an ego boost

he’s snapped out from his thought when he feels your cold manicured fingers wrap around his length giving it a few strokes. the tip of his dick flushed a bright reddish pink, feeling the veins throb in your hand at the newly found sensation

“first time?” you tease, knowing full well that it was. “i’ll be gentle, promise” he replied smugly, raising on of your legs to his hip, tip aligning with your entrance. the moment he pushes the tip in, you both gasp. he’s much bigger than you expected, and you’re much tighter than he expected

“fuck” he panted out “s’tight”. your nails dug crescent moons on his shoulders as he sunk the rest of his length into your throbbing cunt. he’s quick to pull out and slam back into you, making you shamelessly moan out his name and your eyes rolling back

he might not have done this before, but he knows how sex works. he promised he’d be gentle, but luke castellan isn’t know for keeping promises, is he? and after you made him wait a whole week, you more than deserve a little punishment

so he’s thrusting up into you, giving you little to no time to adjust to his cock. and you’re so loud about it too. so he puts his middle and index finger into your mouth. “suck” is the only thing he says before your cheeks hollow out and your tongue wraps around his fingers. he can feel the vibrations of your moans through his arms and it’s coursing straight to his dick, making it throb inside of you

“good girl” he mutters into your neck, making you tighten impossibly tighter around his dick. a few more thrust and your cumming on his cock. he doesn’t let you come down from your high, his thrust maintain the same quick and rough pace they had before, making you whine against his fingers at the overstimulation

tears pooling in your eyes as he’s kissing your forehead. “you’re doing s’good f’me baby” he’d grunt out “im gonna fuckin’ ruin you”

© MINARINNN 2024 - please do not plagiarize or upload my content on any social media platform.

[pearlymel]

The last time when...

Synopsis : you're an assassin. Your next mission? Get rid of your husband.

Warnings : Sylus × gn! reader, angst angst, death, miscommunication, blood, 1.6k wc.

Notes : if this broke your heart a lil bit, then i will make an apology letter by making a part 2 where they're all a happy family and alive 😓

When was the last time you looked at your husband and thought; how crazy must you have been to be with this as equally crazy man?

Or when was the last time he looked at you and thought; how lucky he was that you were able to tolerate him, to marry him, even.

He knew. And you thought you were able to hide your true occupation just well.

He seemed calm right in front of you while your hands were shaking.

He.. was the target?

Let's take this back to yesterday.

You were pushing your motorbike to its limits as you tore down the dark, winding roads, the sound of gunfire ringing out behind you. Bullets whizzed past you, narrowly missing their mark as you expertly maneuvered the motorcycle to avoid getting hit.

Your heart pounded in your chest as adrenaline rushed through your veins. You could hear the shouts and curses of your pursuers, their voices full of anger and frustration.

Despite the danger and the high-speed chase, you manage to keep your composure and reach for the gun holstered at your waist. With a quick and practiced motion, you whip it out and aim it behind you, training it on your pursuers.

Bullets continue to fly in your direction, but you return fire, hoping to buy yourself some time and discourage them from closing in on you.

You safely escaped, for now.

You were either going to get killed by them or by Sylus if he finds out you put yourself recklessly into danger.

Let alone burrowing his motorbike for this mission.

Stupid organisation, you mutter to yourself as you kick your boots off, the snowy weather certainly wasn't helping with your thoughts either.

You had hoped to leave your old life behind, especially after marrying Sylus. But that was a year ago, and the phone call from your old organization has shattered that illusion of peace. These assholes.

They had one more job for you, a job they think no one can ever successed in, unless it was you.

They didn't even tell you who your target is. Just simply send in you the location instead.

As you push open the door to your shared bedroom, your heart sinks when you see that Sylus is still awake. His eyes are fixed on you, and judging by the expression on his face, he is far from pleased.

His arms are crossed in front of his chest, a stern frown creasing his forehead as he regards you silently, waiting for an explanation.

“i was visiting a friend,” you explain, your grip of steel around the doorknob.

Sylus doesn't seem convinced by your flimsy story. He continues to stare at you, "Visiting a friend," he repeats, sarcastically.

“Mephisto says otherwise.”

That damned crow.

“I'd like it if you stopped stalking me.” You say bitterly. And it's true, his eyes seem to be everywhere, anywhere.

That's why you made sure to quit being an assassin before getting together with him. You wanted a happy, peaceful life as well.

“You're saying it like I'm some sort of creep or stranger.” he drawled, stepping closer to look down at you, and his crimson eyes seem to shine brighter in the dark as he lifts your chin up.

“I'm your husband, i have the right to know why my partner is late.” he squinted his eyes at you before letting go off your chin to turn away.

“Get some rest.” Sylus retreated back to bed. You both didn't speak a word that night, both of your backs facing the other, and you think the weather might have become colder.

—

They have threatened to hurt the people you love most if you don't do this one last mission.

You still feel upset that you didn't clear things up with Sylus last night, you hate fighting with him, but if it has to come down to this, then you'd rather protect him.

You made sure no one would follow you this time, not even Mephisto.

Let's say you did some adjustments on him.

Sorry lil guy.

It's probably not clever to leave your trail of footsteps behind on this particularly heavy snowy day, but they said your target would be here. Right at this time. And this place.

What an odd feeling.

Your body goes taut as you suddenly hear the sound of snow being crushed underfoot. It's a familiar sound that immediately puts you on alert. In a flash, you turn around, your gun gripped tightly and ready to fire.

Sylus.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you recognize the figure emerging from the falling snow.

Shock flood through you, your body instinctively relaxing a fraction as you lower your gun, "Sylus," you exhale breathlessly, the tension in your muscles melting away momentarily.

He observed you with a gaze that felt like it cut deep into your very core. There was no anger in his eyes, no hatred, no rage. Just a quiet resignation. “It's strange,” he says, his voice low, “fate bringing us here like this.”

He wasn't armed. He most likely knew.

Wait, he's.. the target?

He noticed your reaction, but there was no flicker of fear in his eyes. Despite your step back, he continued his approach, slowly and deliberately. His eyes never left you, yet there was not a threat in them, just...resignation...understanding?

Sylus was close, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body, so warm in the cold, he reached out and gently brushed the hair that had plastered itself to your face, to reveal your expression of fear.

“step… back.”

“and why should i do that?”

“I'll shoot,” the words slip from your tongue quicker than you could stop yourself from saying it.

He simply lifted one eyebrow at the sight of the gun now pointed at his chest, unperturbed. “Is that how you greet your husband dearest?” he asks, the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth with his head tilted slightly to the side.

He was so infuriatingly calm, like there was nothing to worry about.

His smile only widened, and he lifted his hand to rest it on the gun, his fingers gently tracing the barrel, bringing it closer to him, and you gasp, “but don’t you know how much I love getting under your skin, sweetie?”

“Don't—!” you drawed your hand back when his fingertips played dangerously near the trigger, sending your heart to almost stop. You step back again.

He knew you wouldn’t shoot.

“What the hell are you doing?” he said, his voice dropping the smooth façade once you aim the gun at yourself.

“Put that down, now.” he stepped closer to you, your warnings going through deaf ears before he became impatient, resolving this by using his evol, the energy manipulation red and black strands wrapping around your hand and taking the weapon away from your hold to throw it to the side.

Well, you were certainly no match for him.

“I can explain.” You sounded defeated, a fool. You knew you were going to face the consequences if you don't do something now. “I'm really sorry.”

“do that when we get home—”

Sylusd didn't get to finish what he was about to say, and he didn't freeze either when he heard the familiar sounds of gunshots going off.

Gunshots. Aimed directly at you.

He had no time to look around at the source of danger, everything felt like it wad going in slow motion when be was reaching his arm, his body out to protect you and shield you.

Only to find you on your knees in a blink of an eye, your body limp and falling into the pile of snow.

Sylus shouted your name in fear as he knelt beside you, gathering you gently in his arms, his voice a strangled gasp. He held you close, his eyes wild while his hands palpated your body, searching for the wound.

Two gunshots. Shot right through your chest and stomach.

No, no, no.

Sylus has never felt more scared than he was right now, with your crimson blood seeping quickly, melting down with the snow, even when he was taking off his coat and shirt, all to apply pressure on your wound.

He clutched you, his hands trembling, “stay with me," he pleaded, his voice hoarse. "Please, please stay with me.” His mind raced, frantically thinking of what to do, of why the blood wouldn't stop running down, your eyes so tired and almost dull, oh how he felt so helpless right now.

He clenched his jaw, the unfamiliar tears starting to gather around his eyes.

“You’re not quitting on me,” he muttered, the anger in him rising. “You don’t get to quit on me, damn it. You’re not dying on me. Not today, not anytime soon.”

“So—sorry..”

Your last breath. Sylus’ world came shattering down as your eyes lost their light and your body went still in his arms. There was no breath left, no pulse, just deafening silence and the harsh wind.

Your last words were an apology. Not an ‘i love you’ nor ‘take care’.

He refused to believe it. He refused to accept that you were gone, that your lips would never say his name again, that your hands would never touch his skin again.

”Don’t leave me.”

…

“please?”

…

“Are you really.. going to leave me to be alone again? ”

Sylus only remembers seeing red and white that day. The prettiest angel resting in his arms with their precious blood mixed with the cold embrace of the snow.

[lamiadrowned]

what if Jinx had an affectionate girlfriend? I want to assume Jinx is touch starved so having a girlfriend that loves cuddles and holding hands is a dream come true

*:･ﾟ✧ jinx with an affectionate girlfriend

jinx x fem!reader | sfw

i love her so much :(

it would take her a bit of time to get used to this dynamic.

her entire life, she’s never put much thought into relationships, nonetheless ever believed she’d end up in one, and she’s so happy she did!

especially with someone who seems to love her so deeply, despite how chaotic and difficult she can be at times.

the first few times you guys go out together, you’re always touching her, and she picks up on that quickly. you’re either holding her hand, fidgeting with her fingers, placing your arm around her waist, or playing with the loose strands of navy blue hair that frame her face.

she has no complaints. it makes her feel… warm. safe. appreciated.

but she doesn’t really think of reciprocating this until a small altercation between the two of you.

one day, you’re sitting on the edge of her workbench, listening intently as she shows you the scribbled blueprint of a new invention she’s working on. you can’t remember the name and you have no idea what any of it means, but you’re nodding like you understand so that she’ll keep talking.

“alright, what’s the problem? is it something i said?” she asks you suddenly.

you tilt your head. “what?”

“don’t play dumb! you haven’t touched me at all today!” she grumbles. “you’re always touching me. i mean, did i do something wrong? or–”

“jinx.” you cut her off firmly. “stop that. you didn’t do anything wrong.”

she looks stumped. so, you continue. “i don’t know. it’s just… you never do it to *me,* you know? it’s always me, touching you. i thought, maybe, you didn’t really like it. something tells me that’s not the case.”

your explanation is met with silence, and she stares at you like she’s seen a ghost.

she can’t believe you feel that way. this whole relationship thing is new to her! she had no idea her own self doubt could end up hurting you the way it did.

her first instinct is to apologize. to reassure you that, going forward, she’d be sure to give you as much as you give her, because she really does love the affection.

in no time, she’s just as cuddly as you!

each night that the two of you spend together is spent wrapped up in each other. legs crossed over legs, arms tangled with arms, faces pressed to chests with a constantly growing need to be closer to each other.

i saw somebody else post something about this, but she’d definitely be the type to say something like ‘i wish i could crawl inside you’. she truly can’t get close enough once she learns how good it feels.

and one of many good effects of this is that when she’s having a particularly bad day, you can calm her down in an instant.

if it happens to be one of many days where she’s hearing voices, seeing things that you can’t see, berating people who aren’t really there, all you need to do is put a hand on her shoulder to make her aware of your presence. it’s grounding enough that you can pull her into a tight hug and stroke her hair as she cries into your shoulder.

if it’s one of those days that she’s just angry, where she feels like everything is horrible and everyone else is rotten, you can change her mind in less than an hour by simply leading her to bed and convincing her to lay down for a bit while you undo her braids and scratch at her scalp.

when you play with her hair, it makes her melt, so you’re careful to preserve that effect– you only do it when you feel like she could really use it.

and as for you, if she finds out you’re having a bad day, jinx has learned from the best and she puts her knowledge to good use.

if you’re alone, she’ll pull you into her lap and caress your back, guiding you to rest your head in the crook of her neck because she knows how much you love to be there. if you want to talk about it, she’ll listen. if you don’t, she’ll pick a random topic to ramble about in hopes to take your mind off of things.

if you’re in public, she’ll grab your hand and squeeze it, stroking your palm with her thumb.

unless it’s somebody in particular that’s bothering you. she has no second thoughts about leaving you for a few minutes to go teach them a lesson. either way, the problem gets solved.

given how long she’s gone without any sort of physical affection, it’ll all be very new to her for a while, but jinx is a quick leaner.

sooner than later, your relationship starts to feel more like a constant competition over who’s more touchy and who can get the last kiss.

it’s so mushy! she hates it.

(she loves it).

[gojoest]

the one with the waiter — gojo satoru

— a lunch date gone wrong, or maybe not so…

established relationship (you’re married), gn! reader, fluff/crack, dealing with your husband’s shenanigans

a/n: i said i would be doing regular short stories with satoru to challenge my motivation to write so here’s the first one! the way i’ll be naming the titles is obviously inspired by the tv show friends :>

“satoru”, you glared at your husband from across the table after the waiter was done taking your orders.

“yes, my love”, satoru beamed at you.

“do you mind explaining what that was all about?”, you put in extra effort to keep your voice low while forcing a casual smile. you were in public after all — and compared to your husband, you were not one to make a scene in front of other people who were definitely not there to pay for a side of couple’s quarrel from the next table to go with their lunch.

“what do you mean?”, he asked, confusion written on his face, “are you mad because i ordered only desserts?”

“no”, you swiped your fingertips through your forehead and then put your hand back on the table. “you were really rude to the waiter”

“oh, that”, he made it sound like it was a distant memory he just remembered, “that’s because he was flirting with you. he should be grateful that i only asked for someone else to wait our table after he’s done taking our orders”, he clenched his fists. the vein on his forehead was more visible than ever and looked like it would pop any moment if he kept furrowing his brows any harder than he already was. what was there to be so mad about, you wondered.

“you told him to get lost…..”, you shook your head disapprovingly, “like, did i miss something there? when did he exactly flirt with me?”, you scoffed in disbelief, crossing your arms and leaning back against your chair.

“he was taking notes about you and he kept looking at you only with that idiotic lovesick smile on his idiotic face”, satoru said through gritted teeth, nervously shaking his leg under the table which inevitably, due to his long ass limbs, led to the table shaking too as his knee was bumping beneath the wooden surface.

all eyes in the restaurant were on you now, everyone turning around to see what was going on with the two of you — which was exactly what you were dreading.

you took a sip of your water to give yourself a few seconds to recollect your sanity and keep it under control while you try to calm your delusional husband down. “first of all, stop with the leg shaking, please — you’re bothering everyone”

he immediately ceased. pursed his lips and looked down at his lap, ready to be lectured like a child.

“the guy was not taking notes about me — he was writing down my order. that’s what waiters do, baby. they write stuff down so they don’t mess it up and serve you something else you didn’t order.”, you sighed.

“he didn’t do that with me though”, satoru uttered through a pout.

“that’s because there were three deserts on the menu and you ordered them all. that’s not very hard to remember”

“but he kept staring at you with that stupid smile. only i can look at you with a stupid lovesick smile…”

“he did not look at me with a lovesick smile, satoru. you were shooting him death glares, baby. the guy didn’t know what to do. he got all nervous and sweaty trying to avoid eye contact with you, so he kept staring at me….”, your voice grew softer as you went on and on until you ended your explanation with a light chuckle while leaning in and sliding your hand towards his side of the table only for his hand to quickly meet you midway and cup itself around yours.

“i just hope he won’t get in trouble because of what you did…”, you continued, genuinely concerned.

“well”, he looked at you, a mischievous grin sparkling in his eyes, “here’s the deal — if you lose the chair and come sit on my lap for the rest of our lunch, i’ll make sure he keeps his job”

“oh, you…”, a gasp left your mouth but you didn’t quite know what to say after that. at this point you were not really sure if this was simply an awkward accident or a perfectly scripted scenario by your dearly beloved husband aimed to make you sit on his lap in a restaurant full of people. either way, you had to close the deal.

[sammysamstuff]

I think that the people who are disappointed in Hugh’s answers are new to the fandom and really don’t know him and how he operates and communicates. It’s the only explanation to this ridiculous circus.

Because he’s acknowledged the love and romance between Hannibal and Will many times in the past. The uniqueness of their love. He did that in serious interviews. Just go through the dozens of interviews he’s done through the years and you’ll see. I’m not going to do the homework for you. I’ve been here long enough to know he ships Hannigram and that his acting and collaboration on the show are the actual reason we have some of the most romantic and beautiful scenes on the show.

Also, Hugh loves to take the mick. He’s sarcastic and ironic and on the other hand, can sometimes be very literal in the way he expresses himself (e.g. explaining what he meant by Platonic love, he meant it in the philosophical way).

He won’t say what you’d like to hear. He’s British after all. Moreover, British actors are not famous for doing fan service, quite on the contrary. (PS: if you come from the Johnlock fandom, you know what I mean).

This is a man who was speaking to someone at a Halloween party and that person was dressed as a Pokémon and he pretended he didn’t know what Pokémon was. For the duration of the conversation. Simply to take the mick. He also lied and said he didn’t know the ship was called Hannigram and that he had never read fanfics. Only for Mads Mikkelsen to later tell a fan “he’s a liar, he sends me Hannigram fics all the time”.

He knows what y’all want to hear and he won’t give you that because he’s British, he’s sarcastic, and his personality is not that of fan service. So get over it.

He collaborated and acted beautifully on the show knowing what he was conveying with his scenes: “it’s beautiful”, putting Mads Mikkelsen’s hands around his waist, looking lovingly into Mads’ eyes… those were all his choices because he was conveying the love Will felt for Hannibal. That’s that.