#i'm always conscious of repeating myself

[nicosraf]

I've theorized about this with friends, but I finally worked up the balls to ask because I'm so curious Do the angels have different 'sexes'; Different parts down there? Or, do they all have a dick? This is such an odd question I know but bear with me I'm often take things too literally, so reading metaphors and stuff can be literal hell, BUUUUT I swear I've seen bits alluding to angels being able to have different parts

I've answered this a few times so I'll be a bit brief but the answer is that it's up to you! You can imagine anything you like; I try to be purposeful about the poetic language regarding their genitalia — even in A&M which I'm sure throws a wrench into imagining them as cis men, though it's still certainly possible to imagine them with typical male bodies.

It's not an odd question! It's one I feel like I'm actively encouraging with the way I write, but it's not one that has an answer from me. Maybe they're differently built, maybe they're not — it's up to the reader, and that's you! (not me !)

[vanilladove]

hiii hello vani<3 may i request smt angsty with dazai and reader in which he’s acting neglectful/unfaithful as a partner and you just deal with it? but you don’t hate him or anything you’re just really sad about it hehe tysm ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

☾⋆.ೃ࿔* ghostin

gif creds fybugoustraydogs | divider creds benkeibear

₊ ⊹☁ pairing: dazai x gn!reader

₊ ⊹☁ genre: angst :,)

₊ ⊹☁ content warnings: distant/neglectful relationships; canon mentions of double suicide bc dazai lol...i couldn't bring myself to write a cheating dazai i'm sorry T~T inspired by ghostin + better off by ariana grande!

₊ ⊹☁ word count: 1.9k

You shivered under the cold sheets when your alarm had woken you up. The space next to you was empty, your lover nowhere to be found.

It had been like this for months now, but it was nothing new due to the nature of his job. Dazai always became distant right before handling a new enemy for the Armed Detective Agency. He only disclosed vague details to you, explaining that withdrawing himself was a way to protect you since he didn’t want enemies knowing about you. Before leaving, he’d muttered something about keeping you away from “the demon”.

But you had to admit, the feeling of being 'safe' from a far away, unknown enemy didn't compare to being wrapped in your lover's arms, the soft kisses on your forehead, gently running your hands through his brown fluffy hair, and whispering sweet nothings to eachother. You missed his corny jokes and the nights you two would have together after drinking too much sake, giggling on the floor and watching the stars on your open balcony—Dazai always pointing out the constellations and telling you the stories and lore behind each one.

He had been staying at a secret location far from your shared apartment, so the sheets didn’t smell like his musky, warm cologne anymore. The space felt ghostly now, and hanging out with your friends barely helped. Stirring a sugar cube and cream into your morning coffee, the things they said repeated in your head.

“Just break up with him..."

"You don’t deserve someone who ignores you—especially if he puts work above you…”

"He's definitely cheating on you with all the travel he's always away on..."

Your friends didn’t understand though. They didn’t understand the depth of your relationship or how Dazai loved you. He was a reserved man; he didn't let anyone into his heart, always putting on a flamboyant front to mask his true self. Even becoming his partner and finally moving in with him was a feat in itself and was something he'd hesitantly accepted. You knew he had a traumatic upbringing and that the ones he cared for eventually left his life, often in a tragic way; the last thing his broken heart could take was losing you.

Which was why you put up with the cold sheets in the morning, the single serving meals, and all the sad movie nights alone—because deep down, you knew he cared about you. Your lonely conscious couldn't handle any other explanation.

You tiredly shaped the triangular onigiri filled with snow crab and placed it in the wooden bento box, along with some tamagoyaki and salad, savoring the momentary heat in your hands. It was Dazai's favorite lunch—something you used to pack for him everyday. You forcibly dragged yourself out of bed to make it for him after receiving a text—from an unknown number, of course—that he was stopping by the apartment to grab something. You knew it was futile waking up early; it wouldn't stop him from leaving with no explanation, from not being targeted by the port mafia, the hunting dogs, or "the demon". How silly and lovesick you were.

Closing the lid, you put the dishes in the sink and placed a piece of bread into the toaster, staring intently as you waited for it to finish, which seemed like forever. You took a sip from your mug, cringing when the lukewarm liquid touched your tongue. Shit, your coffee had gone cold. That never happened when he was still there.

The lock clicking snapped you out of your somber thoughts, and you turned your head around to face the self-inviting visitor. Gaze softening, you admired the tall man in front of you, wrapped in a tan trench coat, which you instinctively slipped off from behind him, his tense shoulders relaxing under your fingertips as you draped the coat on a nearby chair. Wordlessly, you both exchanged melancholic glances before Dazai made the first move, stepping forward to close the space between you two. His slender fingers slowly came up to caress your face, the foreign touch making your cheeks heat up. Leaning forward, he closed his eyes and placed a soft kiss on your cold lips, "Hi, bella."

Forcing yourself to open your lids again and not overindulge in the much needed contact, you smiled at your lover, but it didn't quite connect back to your eyes, "Welcome hom—errr—back...You needed something from here, right?" You replied, choosing your words carefully so he couldn't hear your evident desperation.

Dazai blinked carefully, "Yeah, a flash drive. It's in one of the kitchen cabinets. Is it fine if I look around for a bit?" You nodded, looking down at the tiled floor and smiling at nothing. Dazai was always like that, hiding important things in the most impractical places as a precaution. As he fished through the cabinet, he turned his head briefly to look down at the abandoned mug sitting on the counter, "Is that for me?"

You wiped the nostalgic grin off your face, reaching for your coffee, which you'd made in Dazai's usual mug, "A-Ah, no. It's mine, sorry," Dazai raised an eyebrow at you, "I made it earlier this morning, but it's cold now. I'll make you some more." You offered, trying to brush off his suspicions and the strange looks he was giving you.

He sighed, stroking your hair lightly, "It's fine, darling, brew yourself a new cup, and I'll drink this one." He gave you one last reassuring pat before picking up the mug and slipping away into your shared room to look for something else, giving you no time to protest. What seemed like a sweet gesture really had a double meaning: I'm not staying long enough for a new batch of coffee, so I'll just take the cold cup.

A pit formed in your stomach as you dumped out the used coffee filter and reached for a new one. Your vision started to blur, stopping you before you could open the lid of the coffee grounds. Wet drops falling on the back of your hands made you realize you were crying. Instinctively, you brought your hands up to cover your mouth and block any sobs from Dazai, who was still next door in your bedroom.

Stop it.

You tried to coerce yourself, but you couldn't help it. The despair was too agonizing; to have the one you needed most close to you but not being able to tell them to stay, to hold you, especially since you knew how precious you were to him—if you asked, he'd drop everything to stay the night with you. Everyone at the ADA was aware of that, which was why they'd sat you down and conveyed that you couldn't dote too much on Dazai. You understood that and had stayed by his side anyways, knowing that being with him sometimes was better than never. Even if it broke your heart in the process. Even if it meant crying silently in the kitchen while your lover was in the next room, oblivious to the tears wetting your sleeves.

Deep down, you wished he would notice the pain you were in. You wished he would text and call you more or at least take you out to dinner and do special things when he'd finally come back, but he always resumed your daily routines almost like he'd never left. It made your heart ache, feeling like he disregarded his long leaves and their effects on you. You sniffled quietly and quickly wiped your tears away upon hearing rustling from the bedroom doorway signaling that Dazai was almost done grabbing what he needed.

Inhaling deeply, you breathed in and out slowly to calm your frantic heart and turned to the side to face the counter as your partner walked back into the kitchen.

"Found what you were looking for?" You asked, trying to cover your face with your hair and sneakily wipe away any residual tears.

Dazai swiftly passed by you, going towards the chair to slip his trench coat back on and grab the lunch you'd made him. "Yeah, I found it. Thanks for the bento and coffee by the wa—" Your eyes widened as he trailed off mid-sentence, all of a sudden feeling his presence next to you. He bent down to peer over at your face, evidently still swollen and a bit red from crying.

He rotated your body towards him and pushed the stay hairs from your face, intently observing your features. "Bella, have you been crying?" He stroked your cheeks delicately, "And your eyebags are so dark...have you been getting enough sleep?" He looked genuinely worried, peering into your eyes for any sort of insights, but it was too hard to maintain eye contact with him.

"I'm fine...I—" You muttered, words trapped in your throat.

Tell him you miss him. That you don't want him to leave you again.

No, don't! Let him walk out as usual. Your sadness isn't worth letting a countless number of innocent people get harmed or killed.

Thoughts conflicting and wearing your tired soul out, you only mustered a weak smile, placing your cold hands on top of Dazai's. "If I died now, would you still die with me?"

"What?"

"You promised we'd commit a double suicide together. Would you still—" Dazai's arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him, his warmth and comforting scent making tears fall again, not knowing the next time he would be back. You cursed yourself internally for breaking down in front of him, but you couldn't hold your emotions in any longer. He only held you silently, running his hands through your hair as you sobbed into his chest. You felt lightheaded, crying for several minutes, the only condoling things being the scent of Dazai's cologne and the way he held you to remind you he was still with you.

You looked up from his chest, gazing into his chocolate brown eyes, which were swirling with uncertainty. A pained expression was on his face, no doubt from your actions. "I'm sorry, my love. I'm so sorry..." He lifted your face up to kiss your lips gently and kiss away your salty tears before pulling you back into his chest. "I was selfish to think you wouldn't be hurt by me always being away. I tried to turn a blind eye to focus on work, but..." He exhaled shakily, "...somehow I always hurt the people closest to me...even the one I love the most."

Dazai squeezed you tighter in his arms, "I love you, and I know we'll get past this, darling. I don't expect you to forgive me, but please, please don't think of resorting to that." He cradled your face, forcing you to look up at his broken eyes.

This was the power you had over him. Prison, criminals, and even the mafia couldn't break him anymore, but your tears could melt his gaudy, confident facade instantaneously and bring him to his knees. Exactly what everyone warned you about.

You nodded slowly, the last of your cry session being wiped away by Dazai's thumbs. You hugged him back, listening as his rampant heartbeat went back to normal, staring off to the side.

"Listen, bella, I'm going to be gone for a few months. I suspect I'm going to be arrested and sent to a high-security prison...probably somewhere overseas. We won't—we won't be together for a while." You heaved, holding your breath, "But," He turned your head to face him, "I'm going to stay here for a couple of days until then. Is that okay?"

Before you could think, you crashed your lips on his, and Dazai only happily kissed back, smiling, grateful to have cheered up his love again.

"Y-Yeah, that's fine. I love you, Osamu." You sniffled back. He could stay forever if he wanted to, but you'd take a few days.

"I love you, too, bella. I always will, even when I'm not with you. Enough for the both of us."

[cheezeybread]

hihi! I saw your requests were open and was wondering if you'd do head cannons with any of the first years you want (romantic expt Ortho obvi) where the reader has natural wavy/curly hair (2C/3A) and always straightens it,but one day their straighter broke and they had to go to school with their natural hair?

HECK YEAH

As a curly-haired girlie myself, this just hits different <3

𝙁𝙩: 𝘼𝙘𝙚, 𝘿𝙚𝙪𝙘𝙚, 𝙅𝙖𝙘𝙠, 𝙊𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙤, 𝙎𝙚𝙗𝙚𝙠

I'm SoRrY I can't write Epel that well :(

𝘾𝙐𝙍𝙇𝙔 𝘿𝘼𝙔𝙎

●・○・●・○・●

𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀

Literally doesn't even notice anything is different.

Maybe he'll have a feeling that something's off....but he can't quite figure out what....

You're gonna have to tell him straight-up, baby, he's about as thick in the head as they come. Ain't nothing getting in his brain.

Of course, once you tell him, Ace tries to play it off like he knew but was just waiting for YOU to be comfortable enough to share it with him.

God love him, he tries to hard to be cool.

But by golly, he absolutely LOVES this natural hair of yours now that he notices it

He's totally gonna think of reasons to drag you all over school grounds, just so everyone in the entire school can see you and your fancy-dancy hair!

Even if you tell him you don't think it's fancy-dancy, he does NOT agree and WILL keep calling it that.

The next day, when you come to classes with it straightened again, he's obviously gonna sulk about it a little bit...and after he overhears something about straightened hair losing its straight-ness when wet....he's gonna find a way to dump water on you so he can see your wavy hair again!

Which might be the wrong route, but he just loves you so much and can't get enough of your hair.

●～●～●～●～●

𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐃𝐄

"Ohhhh, my mom straightens her hair, too! Why not just leave it natural?"

He's well-versed with the world of hair-styling simply from his mother's own routines when she was younger.

Now that he knows your secret, he's totally gonna buy you hair supplies specifically FOR your natural hair...you know, he was just out shopping at the school store and came across this special cream that reduces frizziness, why don't you try it out??

Of course, if you tell him that you prefer to have it straightened (either for convenience, or because you're self-conscious about it), he'll do his best to support your decision, and he'll stop buying the wavy hair products.

Heck, he'll even try his hand at straightening your hair for you!

He'll burn his fingers a lot the first few tries (which he makes you "kiss the pain away". He's a bit cringe, but hey, he's your cringe), but soon enough, he'll be an expert with that sucker!

You now have a new hairstylist! Tadaaaa

●～●～●～●～●

𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐋

He's such a king, he notices right away what's up with your hair and gives you a nod of appreciation.

Jack may not be the best with words, especially not words of affection, but he's working on it for you! So expect some shy compliments of how nice you look!

You can even catch him whispering under his breath sometimes about how he "likes the look" and you should "wear it more often", but if you ask him to repeat what he said so you can hear it better, he'll get flustered and say something like "I SAID IT'S REALLY HOT OUT"

He's pretty chill about the whole thing, ngl. He doesn't try to pressure you to straighten it again nor leave it how it is, he just appreciates it whatever style it's in. The natural look, he's just considering it as a treat!

PLEASE start wearing your natural hairstyle around this poor man, because he's not going to ask you to do it, even though he reeeeeally wants you to.

Poor Jack just figures that you should do what you want- after all, it IS your hair.

Once he learns about straight + wetness = curly hair, expect some swim dates, and walks in the rain.

You've been warned

●～●～●～●～●

𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐎 𝐒𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐃

The poor little dude is trying so hard to figure out what's wrong with you at first

But then when he gets closer to you, he realizes that it's just your hair, in a different style!

He knows that people can curl their hair, straighten it, and do whatever they want to it, so why should he be so surprised?

More likely than not, he already knew your hair type was different from the straight hairstyle you wore everyday, simply from scanning you for injuries when he hangs out with you (Yes, he most definitely checks you over every time, he can't have his friend getting hurt and not do anything about it!)

Once you tell him your tale of woe regarding your hair straightener, Ortho lights up and offers to fix it for you! He also has a built-in mini hair-straightener (because he has everything else, why not!) and offers to straighten your hair right here, right now, if you want!

Truth be told, he likes any of your hairstyles, so wear whatever you want with pride!

●～●～●～●～●

𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐊 𝐙𝐈𝐆𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐓

Yells very loudly when he first sees you: "WITCH, THEY'RE A WITCH"

But then he realizes that they're all at a school for magic-users, and that you're the only one amongst them that DOESN'T actually have magic!

So he's just very confused as to how you changed you hair so suddenly.

When you tell him about your hair straightener breaking and how this is your natural kind of hair, he immediately wants to see the straightener.

He's so awestruck by this little device that's an over-glorified piece of hot iron.

"I WILL TAKE THIS MACHINE UNDER MY CHARGE", he loudly exclaims, taking your hair straightener and rushing back to the Diasomnia house.

He'll definitely get someone in Ignihyde to fix it (Or, rather, he'll get Lilia to go in his stead to get someone to fix it, but once it's all nice and working again, he's gonna use that sucker until it breaks again!

Everyone in Diasomnia walks around with badly-straightened hair. Half of the dorm member's hair is already straight, so Sebek tried to make it even STRAIGHTER.....there's a thick hair-burnt smell hanging around the dorm.

But yeah, you're not getting your straightener back after that. Besides, Sebek likes your wavy hair! It matches your personality a lot more, in his opinion ;)

●・○・●・○・●

[wyniepooh]

aaron

hotch doesn't really like when fellow members of the team calls him by his first name. for you, however, maybe he can make an exception.

traumatized!hotch core, mentions of stabbing and TW: foyet 😔. The team investigates a case that reminds hotch of f*yet, he is not well and reader sees right through him. bau!reader, hurt/comfort/fluff that turns into something a lil more towards the end slightly bc it’s hotch so i can’t help myself .

hotch preferred when everyone called him by his last name. he never explicitly said it, but it was an unspoken rule of sorts. whether it was hotchner, hotch, or even whatever nickname penelope often came up with, he didn’t mind. as long as it wasn’t aaron.

'aaron' felt too personal to use with his co-workers. too intimate. as much as you guys were like a family, hearing aaron come out of spencer’s mouth would be as strange as a quiet crime scene.

and hell, was this crime scene hectic. the aftermath of a negotiation involving drawn weapons was always hazy— body overfilled with adrenaline and running on approximately three hours of sleep. all the law enforcement agents you could think of was present, interviewing people, collecting samples. all the lights and voices didn't help with the anxiety. but this scenario in particular had everyone scrambling to collect their thoughts.

hotch, especially. the mo of the unsub was eerily similar to that of foyet— the intricate stabbing that ensured the victim suffered long and hard but was still conscious enough to feel every inch of the next stab. the whole team was aware of the elephant stealing all the oxygen in the room, but no one really knew what to say or do given hotch’s constant stern affirmation that he was fine.

and so the whole team walked into the local police department in silence, hotch leading as the rest of you trailed behind. tired of the crickets practically sounding, you cleared your throat and exclaimed,

“so, does anyone want to get some food? i saw an authentic taco sta-“

your words trailed off as your eyes followed the figure in front of you, who was walking away haggardly towards the washrooms. you turned back towards your teammates, all of them shrugging and letting out a sigh. eventually, they all walked away with a promise to fulfill your hungry request and disappeared to their work stations.

you stood outside the bathrooms for at least five minutes, taking a step forward, then back. forward, then back. finally, you shook your head quickly, straightened your shoulders, and pushed the door into the room.

"h-hey! this is the men's-"

you didn't bother to acknowledge the young police officer by the urinal who was frantically pulling up his pants. you simply lifted an extended arm and nodded to silence him. you walked to the front of the stall where you spotted hotch's perfectly polished shoes, and stopped. once the guy left, you knocked on the door.

“hotch? i know you’re in there.”

silence. you began tapping your foot and crossed your arms, blowing out a rush of air. exasperated, you repeated again, “hotchner. open up. please.”

a click enabled you to release a breath of relief, the door opening to reveal hotch sitting on the closed toilet, head looking down with his hands crossed in between his legs.

“listen… i know you said you’re fine and that you're good to keep going, but we both know that’s bullshit. we know you. too well, even. we can tell that you're struggling, whether you like it or not. it’s obvious this case has brought up…”

your voice progressively got more silent as you noticed the response you got. silence. it wasn’t until you stopped talking did you realize his rapidly rising shoulders for each breath he took, and the way he fidgeted with his hands to hide the shaking. you immediately knelt down to his level, putting both hands on his shoulder.

“hotch? hey-“

“i'm sorry,” he mumbled.

“what?”

“i’ve been dismissive the whole day. i want to say it’s simply because i didn’t sleep last night, or the night before that, and that is part of it but… the reason i haven’t been able to sleep is because of the case. i thought the therapy was enough, i thought it would be fine once i was distracted with work,” he sighed, “i know i’ve made you all uncomfortable and i don’t know what to do about it. i wish i-“

“hotch.”

“-could just open up. i’m so sor-“

“aaron.”

he stopped his sentence midway and found your concerned eyes.

you chuckled, “if you say sorry one more time, i’m going to really make you sorry.”

it took a second for aaron to muster out a laugh as well, but eventually he did, and the sound put a genuine smile on your face.

still kneeling, your hand came up to softly caress his jaw. “don’t apologize for how you’re feeling, aaron. i’ll admit that the atmosphere is a little more tense than usual, but let's be honest here," you dropped your hand from his face, “we're all tense. we're profilers, for gods sake. what are we but tense?"

aaron gave a nod of approval, his lip curving into a small smile.

"and also, don't feel obligated to talk to us. everyone has their own coping methods. we're just reminding you that if you do need a person to talk to... we're here to lend an ear. and of course, we hope you remember that it's more than okay to take a break or admit you're uncomfortable. we get it. we won’t judge.”

you feigned a thinking face, “well, rossi might judge a little, but at least we won’t!”

he snickered and nodded again at your words, taking a deep breath. his hands had stopped shaking and his breaths seem to be more regulated. you smiled at him one last time before the both of you began to stand up.

as aaron straightened himself, he realized something. he didn't like the others calling him by his first name, but there was something different about the way his name sounded rolling off of your tongue. in fact, he would do anything to hear you say 'aaron' again.

before you could both exit, the stall door behind you suddenly closed. a surprised ‘oh’ left your lips, and aaron looked equally as confused. the inclosed space pushed you closer to him, and just for a second, you saw his eyes flicker to your lips. you expected him to open the door like a gentlemen or apologize for the close proximity, but nothing ever came. you opened your mouth to say something, but all you could breathe was a quiet whisper of his name before he crashed his lips onto yours.

-

a/n: the washroom stall door was truly a paid actor.

[mustainegf]

Loved that Kirk blurb about his teeth. So fucking cute!!!

I saw you mentioned James and his acne too though. Did you already write fics about that? If so, can you link them? Because yeah, James is still hot as hell with or without acne same as Kirk is hot as hell with his original teeth or his newer ones. But I can see him being self conscious about it sometimes (just as I can see Kirk being self conscious about his teeth sometimes), especially of someone says something rude about it in their hearing or in such a way that it got back to the guys. And neither deserves to feel self conscious about such things. :(

I cannot even begin to express how much I loves James acne/acne scars they are SO CUTE!??? dude I hope he was never insecure of them cuz he was absolutely adorable

𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒 ¹⁹⁸⁴

I had just come home from a long day of classes, a tad weary but excited to see James, he always made my days better. I pushed open the door of his room, it was ajar, and then I stopped, having seen what I never expected I would.

There in front of his mirror sat James, right on the floor, staring into the glassy surface. His face was red, though it wasn't from exertion or the warmth of the room. He looked devastated.

I paused in the doorway, unsure if he had noticed me. As soon as he heard the door creak, he rapidly wiped his face with the back of his hand and tried to act as if nothing had happened. But I knew otherwise.

"Hey," I cooed softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind me. James barely looked at me, his eyes darting back to the mirror for just a second before he forced a smile in my direction.

"Hey," he replied, with very obvious strain. "What's up?"

I didn't say anything at first. I approached where he sat, and seeing his obvious forced composure made my heart ache, I didn’t want him to feel like he had to ever hide from me.

I knelt beside him, the cool wooden floor pressing into my knees. I snuggled up beside him, sliding my arms around his, before resting my head on his shoulder. We just stayed there like this for a minute. I could feel the emotion in his muscles, faint quivering of his arm when my fingertips reached it.

"James," I began to say softly, looking up at him, "what's wrong?"

He shrugged and jerked his head away from me, looking at some invisible point on the floor. "Nothing. Just, it's weird lighting in here, I guess."

I frowned. "James, I can tell you've been crying. Please, talk to me."

He sighed, a shuddering breath that came from the soul. "I said it's nothing," he repeated, a little more forcefully this time. He wiped at his eyes again, trying to compose himself once more, only breaking my heart.

I could feel the tears welling up in my own eyes now, seeing him like this. "James, please. I know something's wrong. You don't have to hide it from me."

He shook his head. "Just drop it, okay? It's not a big deal."

I wasn't going to let it go. I could see the pain in his face, the way his eyes were reddened and his lips drooped. I shifted around more in front of him, my hands gently cupping his face. "James, look at me," I instructed.

Finally, he faced me, his eyes swam with tears, two sparkling ponds. "Please, just leave it," he whispered, his voice broke, breaking me equally.

"Jamie, I'm here for you," I comforted, stroking his cheeks very gently with the pads of my thumbs. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

He closed his eyes, and a single tear slid down his cheek. "I hate my face," he finally admitted, his voice so quiet I just about didn't hear it.

What?! How could he ever think that? He was the most handsome person I’d ever met. I couldn’t possibly conjure up any idea as to why he could think such a thing.

"Why would you say that?" I questioned softly, running my fingers through his long wispy hair.

James finally looked up to met my gaze. In his eyes was a dangerous concoction of sadness and hate. "My acne…" he finally spat out, his voice cracking. "I hate it. I can’t stand looking at myself."

I was mortified. I'd always found James breathtaking, acne and all. Actually, the breakouts, the little pinkish-red marks, along with the divets of scars, had become something I had grown to adore on his cheeks.

"Oh, Jamie," I cooed, heart aching. I wrapped my arms tenderly around his shoulders, holding him in close.

His body convulsed softly as tears began to fall from his eyes again. Breathing in short bursts, vibrating with each one. "I’m so ugly," he choked out. "I see all these people out there with perfect everything and then I look at myself, and I just..."

I wrapped him tighter in my grasp and felt what he was feeling, as if it was mine. "You're not ugly.” I pulled back a little and stared him right in the eyes. "You're beautiful, James. All of you."

He shook his head, tears streaming down his face now. "Don't say that," he muttered. "I know what I look like."

I reached up and gently brushed his tears away with my thumbs once more. "I'm not saying it because I have to," I said. "I'm saying it because it's true."

We just held each other for a moment, staring into the mirror.

"Look at yourself, James," I said very softly. "Really look at yourself. You are so handsome."

He peered doubtfully at our reflections in the mirror. In his eyes, I could practically taste his hesitation. "I don't know," he said shyly.

I leaned closer to him, inches from his ear, and whispered, "you know what I see?” James listened but kept his face fixated on his reflection, "I see the boy I fell in love with. And he’s now a man, a rather good looking man too." I chuckled softly.

A grin spread his face. "That’s the face I fell in love with, and I think he’s handsome.”

James looked back at the mirror, his eyes flicking back and forth between his reflection and mine. Slowly, he took a deep breath. "I'm handsome?” he said sourly, as if the word was foreign on his tongue.

I smiled, reaching to kiss his cheek. "You always have been," I whispered, my fingers tracing the lines on his soft jaw. "James any girl would kill to be with you, you’ve seen how crazy those groupies get."

He laughed, the sound breaking through the final layer of his sadness. "You really think I'm handsome?"

"I know you are," I replied, kissing his bumpy pink cheek. "And I'm going to keep telling you that until you believe it too."

[sleepinthrumyalarms]

— do you like them?

pairing: wednesday addams x fem!oni!reader

warnings: smut, lesbian sex, teasing, roughness, beastial appearance, all characters are aged-up

summary: wednesday comes to your dorm to check on you, worried that you skipped classes, and finds you sulking over a new attribute to your appearance. needless to say she finds it very much appealing

word count: 1.3k

"What... is this?"

The sight in front of Wednesday is one she surely has never ever thought she'd see in her life. It's dark in the dorm, the curtains are shut, but she can still see you — slouched on the bed, head in your hands as you look up at her, cheeks red with embarrassment. The girl's eyes trail further up to where your fingers are entangled in your (h/c) tresses, and her eyes widen at what she sees projecting from the top of your head.

A pair of straight scaled horns, sharp intimidating ends of a bleeding red color. She remembers those — she always sees them on your frame when you’re out hunting during Full Blood Moons. They are long but not too thick and not too heavy, considering how you can still hold your head up with no problem, but the way you reach a hand up to tug at one of the horns, aggravated, as if desperate to simply rip it off, tells her that there actually is a problem.

"I don't know!" you whine, brows furrowed in frustration, "I woke up like this. They aren't even supposed to be there when I'm back to normal," your palms cover your face, and your voice comes muffled, "Don't look at me."

"Is this why you were absent during class?" Wednesday leaves her backpack by your desk and takes a few steps closer, her gaze never leaving your brand new appendages, "Because of those? Seriously, (Y/n), you're a student at an academy full of monstrous beings, and you're shy because of a pair of horns?"

The ravenette stands in front of you now, her hands rising to grasp yours, pulling them away from your face, "Honestly, you should know better than this." She scolds, but her tone is much softer now that she can see your upset expression up close.

Sighing, you hang your head, the tips of your horns gently grazing the fabric of her uniform jacket, "It was different back when I was out in my... other form."

Wednesday lets go of your hands to press her palms into your chin, lifting your face to meet your eyes. She stares at you for a few moments, studying your features, then whispers a question.

"May I touch them?"

You're slightly taken aback by the inquiry, and for a second the ravenette thinks you're going to pull away from her hold, but there's no way you'd ever deny her anything. You nod, slitted eyes shifting from hers and down to the floor.

You trust Wednesday. Doesn't mean you feel any less self — conscious about this.

She moves her hands up to your cheeks, her touch cool and soft, tracing your skin, then leaves your face completely to slowly inch a pale finger closer to your horns. When she touches them, feather — lightly, you jolt, and the smaller girl quickly withdraws.

"Did I hurt you?" She asks, worried.

"No, no," you reassure her, and Wednesday can swear the dusted color on your cheeks deepens, "It just feels... weird. Not like when I touched them myself."

"Can I keep going?"

You mutely nod again, and she brings her hand up to press it against the base of the keratin growth. The horn is preternaturally warm and rough to the touch, and you shudder again, a shaky sigh escaping your lips. Wednesday traces her thumb up the bony surface experimentally, gaze flicking down to watch your face, and she's surprised at the way you bite your lips to stifle a groan.

"O-oh... Wednesday…”

Lifting her left hand to wrap it around the other horn previously ignored, she repeats the motion, stroking gently, and this time you tremble, wrapping your arms around the girl's waist to press her closer to yourself, looking up at her with mouth half — open, close to drooling.

Oh. She can work with this.

Wednesday caresses her fingers up and to the top of the sharp tips, and you let out a shaky whine, eyes closing in pleasure. She has never seen you like this. Oh, how much the ravenette enjoys it - pliant and needy, face ablaze in crimson, a complete mush in her hands as you crane towards her.

"Fascinating." You hear her praise through your haze of the wondrous sensation.

Wednesday's pools of grey slide up to your horns again, a much more devilish idea on her mind. Moving closer to your frame, she takes perch on your lap, and your hands instantly latch onto her thighs, your breathing languid and heavy. Sticking out her tongue, the ravenette presses it against the warm base of your horn, then slowly trails the soft muscle up to the very tip, and you can't hold back a moan then, the feeling almost enough to make you keen.

"Fuck... Please, I-"

Begging already? It seems like Wednesday has found a weak spot of yours - honestly, there were many others, but none of them could get as much of a reaction as this.

Wednesday pulls away and tugs — unsurprisingly, you follow, craning your neck and exposing her favorite spot, where she leans in to kiss along your jawline, licking at your pointed ear when she gets close enough, softly nipping at the earlobe. She starts to press gentle kisses into the column of your throat, leaving dark imprints, marking you as hers.

Pulling back, the small ravenette smiles impishly at you, and, unable to deny your lovestruck gaze, presses her lips against yours in a heated kiss.

Letting go of you horns, her hand slides down your body to the zipper of you pants, and she quickly undoes it, fingers sliding in past your panties to brush against your heat, the wetness gathered there making her sigh deliciously. Your claws grip the plush of Wednesday's thighs, legs parting as much as possible with the small girl still on your lap, and you whine into her feverish mouth before pulling away from the kiss, the stimulation too much, "Please, please, fuck... Don't tease…”

"How silly you are, thinking you can make the rules in such a pathetic state..." the pads of her fingers trace over your clit, and you jolt, "Just look at yourself... So susceptible... Who would've thought?"

She's always so unfair — simply having you in the palm of her hand isn't enough.

"What do you want me to do, (Y/n)?" The ravenette asks, rubbing slow tight circles on your clit that have you whining her name.

"Wednesday, please—"

"Please what, (Y/n)? Have I rendered you so brainless you can't even verbalize your wishes?"

You growl suddenly, brows furrowed and tusks bare at the insult, and you contemplate trying for the upper hand, but the small ravenette squeezes the horn still in her palm and you fall against her, unable to fight back.

The horns are too new, too sensitive and her grip suddenly too sure.

"Oh, so you want to act out of turn now?"

Her hand leaves your pants in an instant, pushing you back against the bed, and then she’s climbing over you, thighs pressing into your sides to keep you in place. You could easily overpower her —Wednesday's strength is far from enough to keep you down, but the dangerous glint in her dark eyes is enough to keep you from trying to escape.

Painted nails trail over the small revealed patch of skin of your lower abdomen the undone belt provides, not too much in a hurry to go back to touching you where you need her the most. Goosebumps raise up your body, and Wednesday looms close to your face, her free hand reaching for one of your horns to press it into the mattress, leaning your head back and making you hiss.

"Untamed little brat. I wanted to be soft and gentle with you, but I guess that's not what you want," she scratches at your skin, then her fingers move lower to roughly tug at your pants, "Hold tight then, bella toro. I'll teach you who's in charge yet."

[lemonhemlock]

what are they doiiiing, man

The more I believed I wasn't a book puritist, the more this show is trying to make me one because what are they doing?

Everything is inconsistent from episode to episodo and from season to season, like they're not even trying to make it believable

The only good thing is fr Daemon plot and this does shock me because I wouldn't have believed it before lol

And they're kind of making me feel angry about the green (alicent the most, because what are you doiiing? Not even on a book!alicent point, but from the same shows, she is always something different and it's humiliating really)

Idk, i try to take all with a light heart but... it's still able to make me quite mad

And sorry for all the typos and errors, I'm in a rush dhsjal

i mean it's a really disappointing season

i've said it before in my critiques, we can argue all day about characterisation (maybe some actually see aemond as an emotionless psycho, maybe some actually buy that alicent would sell out her own sons for rhaenyra), but there is little to no buildup for these HUGE changes and they don't even make sense in the context of the story. the greens are so, so emotionally flat and one-note melancholy with stunted dynamics. if they don't give a shit about each other, why and even HOW could the audience? where is the tragedy? ok, you want to make those changes from the books and create completely different versions of these characters: you have to make me believe it, man. you have to put in the work.

but these writers don't even understand the politics of the world they are inhabiting. they're not fixing any plot holes from the books, they're creating more. how the heck is house hightower JUST fine with having TWO members of their family dismissed in quick succession from the small council? who is financing this war? uncle hobert should be writing angry letters to aemond demanding appropriate reparations or else the hightower armies go back to oldtown. if they are not going to advance their own interests further as a house, why are they fighting this pointless war? tyland lannister should have given aemond some lip back for his attitude since house lannister has resources (i.e. armies, ships and gold) that aemond needs. these people have power! we've already seen the riverlords take no shit from daemon and he has a dragon too!

i've said this already to our dear @stannisfactions, so i'm gonna repeat myself here, but if alicent somehow became convinced that aemond was so off the rails he was going to get helaena killed................ there are ways around that that DON'T involve selling out your entire family to rhaenyra (certainly your male relatives, even the ones who didn't do a damn thing to you, like your brother, your uncle, your cousins, YOUR OTHER SON (THE NICE ONE), who are only following YOUR lead at the end of the day, because YOU put aegon on the throne and told them to mobilize forces and declare for him and now rhaenyra will see them all as traitors.

has everyone forgotten how to stage a castle coup? i know vhagar is big and scary, but she's parked way outside KL and aemond is just one man who was NOT shown to hustle for his own connections and personal network of friends. smack him in the damn head and throw his ass in jail!! tell everyone else the now-conscious KING aegon told you to! alicent was ruling queen for many years, it makes no sense for her not to have her own resources and courtiers who could help her do this.

can you imagine joffrey baratheon, surrounded by lannister guards loyal to and paid by tywin lannister, whose war is financed by the lannisters, dismissing tywin or cersei (or even tyrion) from his small council? are you laughing yet? why doesn't alicent have her own private army of hightower guards loyal to HER? unless you want (and need) her to be the stupidest person alive so that you can write your rhaenicent fanfic 🤌

they want to humiliate alicent so much to „punish” her for ~choosing the patriarchy~ instead of her bff rhaenyra and girl power. it's such an overdone storyline. other shows, books, media have done it to death, why is it in my dragon show, too? she can't have been a competent regent for viserys and not know how to do these things or not have acquired the resources to do them if necessary. how can she be both competent and incompetent when the plot requires it? it's giving wanting to still have the cake after eating it and throwing it into outer space

[romanoffsbish]

Sweet Nothings

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

A Torn up Masterpiece

Warnings: Self-Conscious/Deprecating R, Mean Shield Agents.

Smut: SOFT! Mommy (W), Little Dove (R), Thigh Riding (R), Fingering (R)

18+ | Minors DNI !!

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

“They said the end is coming, everyone's up to something..."

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

The clock flashing 12:00am was nothing short of taunting, it reminding you that you'd only made it through part of your day at Shield. There never used to be disdain in your heart for the agency, but that was back when you knew the agents around you, and when they knew you all the same. Natasha, Maria and Clint used to make the environment enjoyable. Now you hardly ever see them as they either moved on or up and left you to hold down the fort with the new, much younger crowd.

"Agent Y/L/N" this or "Miss Y/L/N" that, it didn't really matter how they addressed you, the words they spoke held hardly any respect, and the stares always rubbed you the wrong way when you would pass them in the halls.

"I just don't get it dude, how the hell did Agent Y/L/N bag a hottie like Wanda anyways?," you could hear the surrounding agents, they were either chuckling at your expense, or making grumbling noises in an obvious agreement., "There's nothing special about her at all, the little witch would be so much better with me, I'd show her what she's missing out on. I'd fu—.," your jaw clenched as you cut the asshole off with the clearing of your throat. Everyone of their bodies suddenly stiffened upon seeing you step out from around the corner., "Miss.."

With a dismissive wave of your hand the weak apologies died on Agent Marten's tongue., "Apologies will get you nowhere cadets, you're all wasting valuable company time gossiping in the halls, and about your superior mind you."

"With all due respect, we're level 1 agents, no longer are we cadets.," you chuckled at their attempts to defend themselves., "Oh yeah?.," he stupidly nodded—as if it wasn't rhetorical., "Well I'm a Level 8, Agent Vo, my clearance is far above yours, and let's be honest here, you're not acting like anything more than cadets."

"Quite frankly Y/N, I'm not even sorry here.," you remained stoic while staring the smug looking agent down., "You will be when I get you demoted to water boy Agent Marten—or should I say Muriel since we've lost our wits on respect around here, hm?," watching the color drain from his face was indeed satisfying as you revealed his first name to all his peers., "No, we all understand, and we're very sorry."

"Interesting change of tune there Agent, but I regret to inform you that disrespecting a commanding officer gets you a months worth of additional paperwork, and a suspension from missions—camaraderie is essential here at Shield, and if any of you were paired with me I'd feel unsafe—so take this time to reevaluate your decisions on making an enemy of me."

"Miss—."

"I'm sorry, did I ask for a debate cadets?," your hardened gaze seemed to have the desired effect as all of their shoulders collectively fell, and most reluctantly shook their head., "Good, because I much prefer not having to repeat myself. Fury and Hill will issue your formal suspensions, and I'll drop all of your additional paperwork off to you after the weekend."

As swiftly as you dismissed them they were gone, your intimidating posture fell once they were out of sight too. Words hardly ever had the power to get to you, but when your very worth is constantly a question on many others minds it's hard not to give in to all the noise.

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

"I find myself running home to your sweet nothings—Outside, they're push and shoving."

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

After dealing with the malicious agents you found yourself inside of Director Hill's office., "Long time no see Y/N/N, to what do I owe the pleasure of you slumped onto my couch, hm?," the woman laughed boisterously when she received a middle finger in response to her teasing., "Aww, I love you too pookie.," she dodged your pillow with ease as she sat down at her desk then silently observed you further. There was this obvious dullness to you that she had never seen before, and truthfully her heart broke a bit at the sight of you looking so low.

"Ria, I can't do it anymore, like I hate it here.," she nodded in understanding, she knew the cadets of today were nothing like the past sets., "I know, but I beg of you, please don't leave.," you sat up to face her with a broken smile., "You all left me first.," the raven haired woman immediately moved to sit next to you on the couch, pulling you into a side hug, and so you laid your head on her shoulder., "I'm here, and Romanoff's only a call away—I know she'd love to beat the new wave into shape—so call her."

"It's not the work Ria, they listen well enough. It's...," you take in a calming breath, deciding if the truth will set you free, or potentially harm you further., "Y/N, what did they say to you?," her eyes left no room for cowardice so with a heavy exhale you muttered the partial truth., "It wasn't to me, it was about me—behind my back but I unluckily heard it all."

Maria sat there patiently waiting for you to fill her in, and with every repeated word you were able to croak out over held back sobs she could feel her body filling with an unparalleled rage. One that she knew could only be beaten out by Wanda, the very person who you were left to questions love, all because others want her., "Wanda loves you wholly Y/N, forget the idiots that don't even know hers attempts to make you feel otherwise. That witch is all yours."

"What if they're right though? Like, what if I'm holding her back Ria? She deserves—.," Maria instantly cut your rambled fears off by burying your face into her shoulder, and moving to finish off your words., "You. She deserves you, and you my dearest friend, deserve her love.," and after she finished her arms held to you tighter as you began to quietly sob, her hold didn't relinquish either until you'd calmed.

"Go home.," you went to protest, even if some part of you came in here hoping she'd suggest just that, the other part of you didn't want to give the cadets even an ounce of pride here., "I'm not kidding Y/N, you're ahead of your work anyways, it's a forced vacation really.," you smiled at her gratefully too, hugging her tight as a silent thanks before finally leaving.

Once you left the room the woman instantly pulled out her phone., "Hey Wanda, it's Hill..."

—

When you left her office it was as if a weight was lifted off your shoulders, the pressure to be the very best agent significantly faded as you returned to your office to collect your things, but the peace was very much short lived.

"Did you hear the news?," you continued to collect your stuff, ignoring the group of giggling girls stood far too close to your office., "Turns out the Wanda Maximoff is dating the Natasha Romanoff.," one of the girls scoffed in obvious annoyance., "No, she's with Agent Y/L/N.," the original girl giggled., "For now..."

It was asinine—their claims were nothing if not unfounded, but for a brief moment you let your mind believe that there was some truth to it. Aesthetically speaking they did fit together; there's already a built in trust between them, as well as obvious love amongst one's chosen lot. Natasha and Wanda were inseparable in the field, you've even seen them work together, and you wonder if their loyalty to you hindered the potential for them to be happier together.

The need to escape was overtaking your body the more your mind gave in to the notion that Wanda was better without you, so you threw your bag over your shoulder haphazardly then made a beeline for the fire escape. No way did you intend to run into any of the people you knew here, nor did you want the cadets having the satisfaction that they were able to upset you in such ways that you couldn't finish work. Showing any sort of weakness to them would only fuel their entitlement to your peace on.

Once you stepped outside you felt a wave of relief as the fresh air traveled into your lungs. In and out, in—out; you were going to be fine. You were so out of it though that you didn't see the cruel stranger who wound up shoulder bumping you into a nearby wall. You winced harshly as your exposed skin scraped against the bricks. Looking up from the ground you saw the hustle and bustle of the New York streets, and once again you felt overwhelmed.

Your lip began to involuntarily tremble along with your hands, the need for escape had never been greater as you sprinted down the street. Ignoring the ache in your muscles the whole way as you were many miles out from yours and Wanda's shared home. There was no end in sight, your mind was running just as fast as your legs and nothing you did could stop it.

Truth be told you needed Wanda, nothing else was going to calm you down enough until you saw those beautiful green eyes of hers. They'll likely be full of concern, but if you could just see through to the love then you know your heart would settle. Sadly though, as you entered your home, falling onto the floor as your adrenaline faded and your legs gave out, you found it to be just as empty as your heart. She was at work, that much you expected, and if there's one thing you refused to do it was call her and beg her to come home to rescue you.

It took you an entire twenty minutes to crawl across the floor, then another ten to get up the stairs and finally you were in your bedroom. Reaching up you grabbed Wanda's sleep shirt from last night, you sniffed the fabric and felt relief as your body's trembling came to a stop. Your legs felt like jello when you moved to pull yourself up to your feet, staggering as you did you made your way into the bathroom where you turned the dial all the way to the left, and as soon as the water scorched your skin you broke down into a fit of unforgiving sobs.

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

"To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it...You're in the kitchen humming."

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

Stepping out of the shower was difficult, your limbs were shaky after the long time spent sobbing beneath the scalding hot streams of water. An obvious side effect of your sudden dehydration, but you managed to push through the struggle of walking as you managed to make it to and flop down onto the mattress.

Your mind was essentially fractured, broken lines of self deprecating dialogue running through it at a mile a minute with no reprieve. Still, you shut your eyes in a useless attempt to use sleep as an escape, but it too was fruitless. Thrashing about on the mattress felt more like your speed now, but just as you were about to throw said tantrum you caught a whiff of something so familiar and decadently sweet.

Wanda's triple fudge brownies...

In an instant you were on your feet, another wave of adrenaline fueled you as you quickly, but quietly made your dissent to the kitchen. The sound of soft humming was the next to reach you as you neared the bottom of the stairs, your senses were on overdrive tonight. Standing off to the side of the entryway you peered into the kitchen to see your lover with her apron on, her hair was pulled back, and a mixing bowl was expectantly sat in her hands.

"Detka, is that you?," she called out to you, her subtle way of letting you know she knew you were lurking. Her answer came in the form of you padding your way over to her, she settled her bowl down on the counter just in time to catch your distraught form in a calming hug., "Moya lyubov', you should've called me."

"Didn't want to bother you.," you mumbled into her chest, then as expected she pulled away to grip you by your shoulders., "Detka, what have I said to you countless times prior?"

"Th-that nothing comes before me, not even your Avenging, and that even if the world was burning you'd stop at nothing to get to me.," she nodded gratefully., "Exactly, you are my world Y/N, there's no point in me protecting everyone else's when yours is crumbling.," her forehead laid against yours while her hands lifted yours up to her lips for a tender kiss.

"You smell good honey.," she noted, traces of your vanilla lotion hitting her nostrils as she held your hands close to her face., "Thanks Wands...," you slowly pulled your head back, meeting her eyes full of love as you looked ahead and the sight alone was overwhelming.

"Did I smell brownies?," the witch chuckled at your silly means of deflection., "Yes, you did.," with a swift movement she dipped her finger into the batter then rose it up to your lips with a cheeky smirk, and an exaggerated wink as you swirled your tongue over the extended digit. Wanda's eyes darkened ever so slightly when you moaned, but she did her best to tamper her urges as you innocently met her gaze., "It's delicious mommy.," Fuck...

The dizzying moment only lasted for a second before the witch shifted you to sit on a stool besides the counter, then after she poured the batter into the baking pan she returned to you. Her body stood between your legs, and those oh so emotional eyes were back on you as she went to speak., "You're the best thing that ever happened to me Y/N/N, so please, I beg of you stop letting the naysayers win your mind over.," her hands shifted to cup your cheeks., "I've never loved anyone the way I have you, nor do I intend to ever love another as such."

After an intense bout of eye contact the first one to lean in was you, desperate for affection beyond the verbal, and Wanda gave you just that. Hands roamed beneath your loose fitting t-shirt in search of your perky nipples while her silky tongue delved right into your hot mouth. Whimpers of desperation reverberated from your throat, and got lost in her mouth as she continued to kiss you hard while her skilled fingers tease your sensitive nubs., "Mommy..."

Wanda nearly crumbled at how breathily you called out for her, always so desperate, but in moments like this one she forgoes teasing to the furthest degree. She's content with how worked up she got you as she slipped her thigh between your legs to find you already dripping.

"Oh my little dove, mommy's going to take such good care of you.," she promised as she slowly began to trail her lips across your flesh, her hands fell to your hips as she efficiently guided your hips movement against her thigh., "Mo-mommy please, I need more.," she flexed the muscle of her lush thigh at your pitiful request, the soft skin brushed against your clit causing your back to arch., "Mommy, oh god... I-I need to cum, please.," she bit into the skin over your racing pulse., "Let go little dove."

In an instant your head flew back as you reached that moment of unwavering ecstasy., "That's right detka.," she helped to prolong your orgasm by controlling your twitching hips., "Chase that pleasure my precious angel, you deserve to be worshipped; so beautiful."

Wanda threw her shirt that adorned your body across the kitchen when your body relaxed, then her lips found yours for a needy kiss., "Tell me what you need little dove, hm?," she gazed into your hazy eyes, a tiny smile graced your face when you could see right through her clouds of lust to the abundant wells of love., "Fingers please mommy.," she gently pecked your lips., "So well mannered detka, mommy's so proud of you for using your words too."

Wanda wrapped her arm around your waist, spinning you around until she had your upper body gently pressed into the table with your leg's widespread for her. A hoarse groan left her at the sight of your slick drenched thighs., "So pretty, you're always so perfect for me.," her nimble fingers trailed over the swell of your ass, pulling an affected moan from you when they grappled handfuls of the malleable skin on their way to their desired location—your cunt.

The woman knew you like the back of her hand, so she entered your tight hole rather roughly with two fingers, pulling them out just as fast to only slam them back in with another. She was rewarded with your wanton moans instantly, her expert fingers working you over with ease like usual, but her lips still held that tenderness you craved as they kissed over the column of your spine until stopping to place a far more firm kiss to the nape of your neck.

"Breathe moya lyubov'.," her whispers of concern didn’t go unnoticed by you as she could feel your back pressing into her as your upper body was rising rapidly, you tried to calm down, but the pleasure was immense. Wanda felt your walls fluttering around her., “M-mommy please.,” she settled a kiss to your cheek before her lips returned to marking your back up., “Let go little dove, cum for mommy.”

The timer on the oven dinged in sync with your throat scratching moans, your lover continued to work you through your orgasm, trailing kisses down your body while also using her powers to pull the brownie tray out of the oven. Tiny whimpers brought her hand to a stop, her fingers slowly slipped from within you, and she held steady eye contact with your blissed out face as she slid them in her mouth., “Divine…”

With a gentle hand she pulled you up from the table, her hands settled on your hips and in a moments time her lips were pressed to yours. There wasn’t a rush in anyone’s movements, just a hot, breathy kiss that made hearts flutter. Wanda’s arms loosely held you against her as she shared your taste with you, rewarding her with your whimpers and languid moans up until you couldn’t keep up anymore. Then while you caught your breath after she pulled back you found your lips being tapped again.

You mindlessly bit into the gooey brownie, an appreciative groan left your throat instantly., “Thanks Wands.,” she smiled softly at you., “Anything for you little dove.,” she frowned when your lip began to tremble., “Oh detka…”

Wanda’s resolve broke when your shaky hands tugged on her shirt, the moment of bliss fading as your body once again filled with sadness. She quickly snapped the fabric away, allowing you to lean into her bareness for the comfort you craved, and her strong arms held you so close so that she could sway your now crying form while humming softly into your ear.

No amount of loving you seemed to be doing the trick, Wanda's heart ached as your cruel thoughts continued to run through your mind. They were so loud, and the bulk of them made no sense, but she knows they weren't created by you, just simply adopted from the assholes who knew nothing about your relationship.

Wanda carefully carried you to the bedroom, a tray of necessities floating behind her and settling down on the bedside table as she sat down on the bed. Her jaw clenched as thoughts of yours were only increasing and infiltrating her mind, the harshness of your insecurities fully breaking her heart, and the sounds of your sobs only made her hold you tighter.

"Natasha's just a friend detka, one that adores you by the way, the woman demands updates on you every Monday—you should call her.," the witch softly began to dispel the thoughts., "I am not going anywhere; you're it for me.," her arm that was wrapped around your bare waist tightened, pulling you in even closer as if you'd disappear into thin air if she hadn't.

"I love you so much detka, with all of me, can't you see that you're everything I'll ever need?," Wanda whispered against your temple, her lips gentle as they laid soft kisses to your hairline., "I'm enough for you?," she instantly lifted your head from her shoulder., "More than enough.,” the intensity of her gaze as she spoke so softly instantly began quelling all of your fears.

A broken hum reverberated from your throat, causing the redhead to shift the both of you until your naked body laid flat atop the bed., "My goodness, those kids did a number on you my dear.," she pecked your lips gently., "Don't worry detka, I shall handle all of them myself.," you shook your head, but she only smirked., "I'm thinking I'll hang them all upside down from the ceiling by their 'tighty whities'."

The witches heart fluttered as you broke out into a hearty fit of laughter, your eyes—puffy from crying, closing as you allowed the spark of joy to completely consume you., “Wands, no.,” you choked out through your laughter and she scrunched her nose up adoringly as you tried to regain a hold on your sternness., “Y/N, yes.,” the light of your life pecked your lips a few times to spur on your giggling before she rolled off of you and propped herself up onto her side.

“I love you baby, thank you for being my rock.,” she looked to you with glossy eyes that spoke to you of her heart., “I am only being to you what you’ve been to me countless times prior Y/N.,” she settled a hand over your cheek, rubbing the damp skin lovingly., “My precious dove, you’ve brought me back from the depths of despair with your love, and you held no expectations.,” she pulled you in for a soft kiss., “It’s only fair that I extend you the same courtesy; you are not meant to hold it all in detka—let me help.”

Her thumb brushed away the reemergence of tears before she was moving to place delicate kisses all over your face, and it was when you calmed that she saw the smile on your face., “You’re all I need Wands, just you existing is enough for me.,” her eyes closed as your lips pressed into her palm, basking in the warmth that was your love before she shifted closer., “Funny, I was going to say the same to you.”

Wanda pulled your body atop of hers, your face now laying in the valley of her breasts while her hand carded through your hair., "You know.," she paused to peer down to ensure you weren't already asleep., "I used to dream of moments like these.," she smiled up as she remembered her months of silent pining., "Whenever I'd visit Shield with Natasha I'd find myself drawn to you Y/N—the most beautiful woman alive."

You snorted., "Baby, that's a bit hyperbolic.," she immediately brushed you off., "No, it's just the honest to God truth detka, you captivated me from the very start.," she smiled down at you when you shifted to your stomach, resting your chin on her abdomen as you looked up at her with curious eyes brimming with tears.

Her hands brushed the hair from your face, then the right one remained on your cheek., "And it also went way further than your looks. I'd found myself drawn to your laughter first—it was contagious, then came your kindness—goodness me Y/N/N, I'd never seen someone more considerate than you.," she sighed when she was met with disbelief in your returned gaze., "The honest point here moya lyubov', is that my dreams could never live up to the reality of what it's been like to not only love you, but to be loved back by you; this is the closest thing to paradise I'll ever get detka."

"You're too good to me Wands.," her thumb gently removed your lip from between your teeth., "No, I'm just treating you as you deserve to be treated detka. You deserve the world."

Wanda gently maneuvered your body until your face hovered hers, she pulled you down for a soft kiss that she instantly deepened, and in a moment of pure relief your mind stilled. Thoughts to the negative faded from your mind, and the witch found herself smiling into the lip lock when they phased into kinder ones, and to the ones full of giddy optimism that had her heart fluttering uncontrollably in her chest.

"I love you so much wiggly woos.," the woman then groaned as you found a way to 'ruin' the moment, but your accompanying giggling as you fell into her settled her weak annoyance., "Marry me then.," she reassured your hopes, and she chuckled when you gasped against her.

"W-Wands I—.," she allowed you a moment to stutter, then she smiled when you looked at her questioningly., "I'm serious Y/N—be my wife."

"Really?," your lip trembled as you felt her overwhelming love radiating from just the simplest of touches, and her smile., "Really.," she nodded in the affirmative., "Yes! Please!"

Wanda chuckled at your enthusiastic response, all the while her heart was beating rapidly as she hastily reached into the drawer of your bedside table and pulled out a velvet box., "This wasn't a spur of the moment decision detka, well, it kind of was but I promise it was already in the works.," she shifted you both up into sitting positions so she could showcase the diamond more efficiently, and she smirked when your eyes lit up with a bewildering shine.

"You're everything I could ever want and more detka.," she gently pecked your lips while her hands practically yanked the jewelry from the pesky box., "Now give me your pretty hand!"

The two of you shared excited high pitched giggles, rolling around the bed in all your naked glory., “We’re getting married!,” your squeals filled the little witch to the brim with joy, her nose crinkling affectionately as she watched your eyes swimming with a purity., “I’ll be right back love.,” Wanda left you with a momentary pout, coming back into the room she popped open a bottle of champagne you received from the Barton’s last Christmas with a loud agreement., “We’re getting married!!!”

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

"All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing"

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

“We’re getting married.,” you tiredly cheered for what appeared to be a final time before you were succumbing to your bodies exhaustion, and so your wife to be was now covering you both up with a fuzzy red blanket, and flicking the bedrooms lights off with her red tendrils.

“Goodnight Mrs. Maximoff.,” she whispered cheekily against your puffy cheek., “I love you Y/N/N, my precious little dove; my wildest dream come true, oh how I yearned for you.,” she placed a final kiss to your pouting lips, a smile instinctively rises on your sleeping face and melts her even further if that’s possible.

“Forever will never be long enough with you.,” her hand intertwined with yours as she settled into the mattress, allowing your bubble of love to warm her soul, and send her off to sleep too.

——————————

4,644 Words

🥰 Kaitlyn 😘

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 🎃💦 ∘₊✧ 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟚𝟜 ✧₊

|| ︶꒦꒷𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥꒷꒦︶ | main masterlist ||

@absurdthirst's Kinktober 2023 Prompts (yeah I'm still working on these whatever lmao)

day 24: Bratty Sub, Anal/Oral Training, Caging

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐎𝐮𝐭

| PAIRING(s): BrattySub!Dieter x SoftDom!FemReader | RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 2.4k | CONTENT: pathetic men who want to come, Dieter being a menace, mental health, established relationship, leash and collar, brief foot fetish stuff, exhibitionism/humiliation, soft degradation, cum play | SYNOPSIS: Dieter breaks a rule, and you have to get creative.

“DIETER! BRAVO! I swear to god!” you yell from the bottom of the stairs as you make your ascent. 

You can hear him scrambling around the bedroom as if you don’t already know exactly what he’s been up to. You shove the door open and find him pretending to meditate on a hastily rolled out yoga mat, the very same one that has been leaning against the dresser for four months now.

“Oh, don’t even start with this bullshit.”

He peeks an eye open to look at you and squeezes it shut again quickly. He makes some fake mantra humming sounds that would’ve made you laugh had this situation been any different.

“I don’t know how you managed to get into your accounts, but I do know that you have been making an absolute idiot of yourself online all morning.”

He wiggles nervously at the accusation but doesn’t deny it. You both knew the damage was done at this point. It pissed you off even more to know that he probably didn’t regret it, not even a little.

“Dee,” you sigh, exasperated that this conversation even needs to happen. “We had an agreement. You know how bad your mental health gets when you go on all these apps and start reading what people say. And then you go and start responding to people, saying all kinds of batshit stuff?”

Not all of his retorts to the negative commenters across several different social media platforms were batshit, but the most recent ones definitely showed a growing pattern of unhinged annoyance and bruised ego.

“You were the one who suggested giving me control of the passwords in the first place because you couldn’t trust yourself,” you remind him.

“And doesn’t it sound like I was right to not trust myself?” he chimes in with a barely contained grin.

Oh, of course he thinks injecting a little humor into the situation is going to fix things. Underneath the quips and the giggles was the sore and raw self-conscious person who was terrified of being hated and criticized – or, worst of all, forgotten. Knowing his insecurities sometimes made it easier to remind yourself that he wasn’t necessarily trying to be so much of a headache, but it didn’t always help enough to keep your irritation in check.

“Give me your phone and get undressed,” you snip. When he looks up at you, all confused with those big brown cow eyes of his, but doesn’t comply, you grip his hair firmly and pull him toward you. “NOW, DIETER. DON’T MAKE ME REPEAT MYSELF.”

You disregard the half whimper, half moan he lets out at the manhandling and snatch his phone from him as he hands it to you. You dutifully ignore the overexaggerated rustling of him removing his clothes and instead go through his phone to delete each and every social media app. You look up when you hear the bedframe creak. Ass perched up in the air, head lazily dropped against his folded hands on the mattress.

“I know I’m not supposed to negotiate how many I’m getting, but I–”

“Oh, you’re not getting spankings for this, Dieter,” you exhale sharply in a humorless laugh.

He lifts his head a little in surprise. “What do you mean I’m not—”

“I didn’t say you weren’t getting punished,” you interrupt. 

His face falls slightly at this news. You hold back a laugh at his expression as he works through the fact that he won’t be getting spanked like usual when he needs guidance. It wasn’t lost on you that he’d start to see it more as a “funishment” anyway.

“So I— I don’t get to get spanked?” he pouts, sounding genuinely disappointed.

“Well it clearly isn’t a deterrent for you anymore. Maybe if you’re good for me I’ll consider adding it as a reward.”

His face brightens a bit at this, and you really have to bite back a smile now. He was so infuriatingly charming sometimes that it wasn’t any wonder he’d never had a partner that was able to keep him in check. He has his moments – like today – where he slips up and needs someone to hold him accountable, and you were more than happy to be that for him.

“Now stay put and don’t get yourself into any more trouble than you’re already in,” you caution, striding from the room without a look back.

It takes you a few minutes rummaging through old bins of entirely unused, unsorted things Dieter had bought over the years to find what you’re after. You’d gotten his Miscellaneous Museum down to just a few bins now that his stress spending was better managed.

“There you are,” you mutter to yourself as you pull the ostentatious luxury fashion brand dog leash and matching collar out of the bin. It was as gaudy as it was expensive, and you roll your eyes at the memory when he’d impulse bought it and tried to justify it to you.

“Baby, do you honestly think you can just get a leash for an ocelot at some random store?!” he’d huffed. “You have to get this kinda stuff specialty, baby.”

“You are NOT getting an ocelot, Dieter!” you’d chided. “I don’t even think they’re legal to own! Which, somehow, is further down the list of worries when it comes to owning a fucking MURDER CAT.”

He’d pouted and stormed off, leash trailing on the floor as he dragged it along and away to stew in his defeat.

It glistens in your hand now, hardware probably made with enough real gold you could melt it down and sell it for a good chunk of change. It was a wonder Dieter wasn’t homeless and penniless when you’d met. You smile to yourself thinking of how he’ll probably point out later on that this ended up being a useful purchase after all.

You make your way back to the bedroom and are pleased to find that Dieter hasn’t moved.

“Well at least we’re off to a better start than I anticipated,” you note as you run a hand down his angled spine.

He shudders under your touch, eyes drifting closed peacefully for a split second. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have done it.”

You take a deep breath and acknowledge his admission. “I know, Dee. But you also know that admitting it is only half of the equation here.”

He nods in understanding and follows your direction to sit up on his knees. You fasten the collar around his neck and direct him to the floor. When he puts a foot down onto the carpet to stand, you correct him to stay on all fours. He’s patient for once as you attach the leash, not badgering you with what you’d be doing or what his punishment was going to be.

“Now, the best remedy for a social media cleanse is a nice walk outside, don’t you think?” you coo, mocking and pointed as you wait for him to understand what you’re insinuating.

“You– What? I can’t go outside like this!” he protests.

“Oh, you can and you will,” you retort.

He balks and stammers as you start jerking the leash and collar towards the hallway and down the stairs. You make him crawl down first so you can watch the globes of his ass flex and push, pink rim in between twitching at the cold air. Maybe once you’re done with his punishment he’ll still have enough energy to take the strap.

You’re closing in on the large sliding patio doors, and Dieter begins bartering again. “But-But what if somebody sees me? It’ll be plastered all over the place! Maybe I can just.. I’ll stay in the collar and leash all day, okay? I’ll keep it on for the entire day inside. I promise!”

“And you’ll have no idea if somebody does see you like this outside because you won’t be going online looking for it,” you snip pointedly. “Besides, since you’re so determined to publicly embarrass yourself, you might as well get some fresh air while you’re doing it.”

His cheeks burn in shame and anticipation. “I swear I won’t ever—”

“You already have, and this is the consequence. Now let’s go.”

His head dips down, but he starts crawling on hands and knees towards the door, waits for you to open it, and gingerly makes his way across the hard tiles that make up the patio. He tilts his head up just enough to glance around at the privacy hedges, no doubt searching for any openings where passing eyes could see him in this predicament.

You guide him to the middle of the yard and instruct him to sit back on his haunches and look up at you.

“Isn’t this nice, being outdoors for a change?”

He grimaces and fidgets. “Baby, please–”

“How does it make you feel, Dee? Being out here like this for anybody to see?”

He huffs and looks down, but you won’t have it. You grip his jaw and direct his attention back to you.

“When I ask you a question, you answer me.”

“I-I feel… open. Too open. And-And nervous,” he mumbles.

“Do you remember our special word?”

“Not that kind of nervous,” he huffs. “Just… I don’t… somebody could be taking a picture of me right now, and it’d be on the trending—”

“And that’s none of your fucking business,” you interject. “Being so concerned about that is what got you in this situation to begin with, so I suggest you start letting go of all that before I get annoyed all over again.”

He groans and gripes to himself but doesn’t argue. “So how long am I s’posed to stay out here like this?” His cheeks heat at the renewed awareness that he’s completely nude in his backyard, being led around on a lead like some misbehaved animal that can’t be trusted to be left to its own devices.

“Until I say we’re done,” you say flatly.

He grumbles under his breath and hangs his head. He goes suspiciously still, and you follow his line of sight to your bare feet. You wiggle your toes just to confirm your hunch and are awarded a gravelly, hitched breath from Dieter.

“Find something to take your mind off things?” you needle.

“You’re wearing the toerings I got you,” he hums, voice shifting into something low and excited.

“Yes, and I was going to let you take them off with your mouth, but instead we’re having to do this.”

He gasps, head shooting up to look at you again with a frenzied expression. “Oh, please let me! PLEASE?”

His flaccid until now cock springs to attention at the mere mention of your feet and his mouth. It had become a fixation of his after a particularly erotic shroom trip, but you didn’t mind it too much. After all, it was just another tool in your arsenal to keep Dieter’s focus and energy where it needed to go. 

“What happened to being scared somebody was going to see you outside like this?” you drawl with a lazy grin.

“It’s probably fine,” he reasons, now rapidly talking himself out of being shy. 

“You know what I think, Dee?” you ask in a throaty rasp. You lightly rub the top of your foot against the bottom of his sac and delight in the way he gasps and twitches. “I think you’d like it if somebody took a photo of that.”

You push harder, the warmed metal of your jewelry pressing into his sensitive skin, and Dieter moans openly now into the expanse of the sunlit yard. 

“Or even a video. Bet you’d love to have that to watch the next time you’re jerking off.”

He whines and buries his nose against your legs. You take pity on him and scratch his scalp in soothing strokes. His reprieve isn’t long, though, when you bend down low enough that your lips are next to his temple.

“Bet they’d be watching, too, and see what pathetic little slut you are for me,” you rasp in his ear.

He whines and shuts his eyes tight, hips grinding against nothing.

“Maybe once you’ve been humiliated in front of the entire world, you won’t care anymore about what anonymous losers have to say about you online.”

He gasps and grips his hands into thighs, knees digging into the grassy earth beneath him. You smile almost cruelly at the way your words have him clinging desperately to the tiny shreds of dignity left right now.

“But you don’t care about any of that right now, do you?” 

You stand upright again and pull the leash taut enough the collar digs into the side of his neck.

 “You just care about being good for me so you can come all over my feet like the desperate little boy slut you are.”

Dieter’s eyes glaze over completely, and one more nudge of your foot against his sac is all it takes before he’s erupting all over your foot and the grass. He grabs onto the back of your calves for leverage as he spurts thick, white ropes again and again. All sounds of pleasure bottleneck in his throat to a breathy, strangled moan. 

He slumps shoulders first towards the ground and whines as he licks up his own spend from your feet. You let him go at it for a few moments before pulling him up for a kiss, the tang of his spend flooding your tongue. He sighs into your mouth and deepens the kiss until his energy dips again. You help him to his feet and walk him back inside to the couch where he plops down haphazardly.

You caress the red indentations on the side of his neck as you remove the collar and leash. You start to fuss over whether or not to get him some ice when he shushes you and pulls you down on top of him. You run a leisurely hand through his hair, gentle pets and rubs as he settles closer into you.

“You okay? Your neck is a little red.”

“Mmmmmm, I’m doin’ really good, baby,” he murmurs. “Love you so much.”

“Love you, too, Dee.”

He sighs contentedly and tucks himself into your side. “Didn’t even think I still had that thing.”

“Hm? What thing?”

“That cat collar and leash.”

You chuckle into his mussed locks. “You find some real gems in the Miscellaneous Museum every now and then.”

He joins your soft laughter and then stills.

“Dee? What’re you thinking about now?” you ask when you note the change in demeanor.

“So are you still a hard 'NO' on getting that ocelot, or …..?”

You groan a laugh and sling an arm over your eyes. You can’t deny it might be a good distraction to keep him away from his phone. He giggles and cuddles closer, knowing he’s finally wearing you down, just like he always does.

[inchidentally]

because apparently I can't stop being weird ! 🫠

(this is completely shipping goggles off btw and with the assumption that there's no point theorizing about these men's actual sexualities since a)male sports and b)required travel to countries where the penalty for homosexuality is death/imprisonment.)

I kind of love that we're all picking up on something new and indefinable with Lando and Oscar and it makes our hearts do a little squeeze without fully knowing why. I'm basically finding myself repeating everyone else's tags on landoscar gifsets. and it made me think about why and how Lando has had two main support systems in terms of friendships up til now. there's the F1 alphas/extroverts and then there are his childhood besties.

F1

so like every guy or group of guys I've seen with Carlos somehow admit he's in the alpha position and rotate around him as the leader. it's very much like Daniel even though Carlos and Daniel aren't much alike outside of that (Daniel makes noise to be the leader, Carlos just exists as a leader). for an ambivert like Lando, Carlos and Daniel are great places to be when he's getting pulled under. they're typical straight alpha types who don't believe in getting stuck in their heads or feelings (Carlos' 'mental health' ad basically being go to the gym and stay productive to not feel sad lol) and they exist in a kind of nonstop monologue. so little Lando can just bob along in the current and know that he'll laugh and forget whatever ails him. very much like what he needed Carlos for after the Mexico race when he looked so drained and ended up magically chipper again in Brazil (in reality bc of friendship and not a solid dicking down as I have tagged in a lot of places). or that private plane ride with Daniel where Lando looked twelve years old and so happy. Lando clearly needs to feel small again sometimes and these are the guys who can do that.

Childhood

Max F obviously has that role of truth-telling and soul-baring that honestly I could see Lando not being able to live without. the friend/soulmate you can't hide anything from. I'm absolutely projecting at this point as someone who feels verrrry simpatico with Lando's personality (as we're allowed to see it) but having that person who can love you while being honest and real with you is so SO SO needed. but! there are times when it's too much and they know that you need to just float for a while. I feel like there's that core group of guys in the Max F circle who are all to different degrees like this with Lando. they're much more his equals in power dynamic too.

Oscah??

I think this is where Oscar exists in like a third, unexplored space. he's been caught in 4K as a Lando fanboy but he's also got sleepy cat personality so you can only tell from the internet evidence and from the way his eyes track Lando every time they're in the same rough vicinity that he's still fairly starstruck.

to me it's like Oscar hasn't quite shaken the norm of watching Lando on his phone screen and he almost forgets that he's supposed to be the one interacting with Lando in the challenges etc.

now if you've watched the Prema content on YT you'll know that Oscar, while still sleepy and placid, absolutely knew how to play up for social media content. sure the pressure wasn't that high and he'd known some of those boys for years by then. but his timing was solid and he adopted a sarcastic voice-of-reason role to bounce off the other guys. but what's so endearing about the McLaren content is that Oscar has basically positioned himself as guest star in the Lando Show. it's like he's so relieved at how good Lando is at media content that he spends a lot of his role in it watching what Lando is doing. I'm serious when I say it seems like he forgets he's not watching Lando on a screen like he always used to.

I do however think it's a confident and conscious decision that he made to not even bother trying to be another Carlos or Daniel - or to try and copy paste a little of the banter he'll have seen Lando have in Quadrant videos. I really love that Oscar's said you know what I'm being me and it so happens I'm nothing like those other people in Lando's content.

but !! you know who's personality and sense of humor Oscar most resembles? Max F. dry humor, sleepy but can get riled up and fun when they're feeling it. sort of fondly exasperated with Lando a lot of the time. I loved the stream of Max watching the Most Likely To with Lando and Oscar because he sided with Oscar so many times and appreciated Oscar bringing up the birthday issue.

and I think that's where for Lando he's still pretty damn thrown by Oscar - not in a bad way, just still uncertain. Oscar doesn't fit with Lando's extroverted F1 world. Oscar's plenty friendly with the rest of the grid (and obv Logan) but he's choosing to largely go under the radar and he runs his social media very lowkey even during some of the major highs he's had his rookie season. he's there to race F1 cars and when that's over he's got a very good brain in his head and plenty of options. he doesn't have the same insecurities that a lot of the drivers admit to having. Lando can't rely on Oscar being a typical F1 driver to understand him.

to finally come around to some kind of point I think what we're seeing is Lando and Oscar tiptoeing around a friendship that would probably develop very fast and easily if it weren't for the F1 pressure and expectations. we're seeing Lando unusually flustered by how easy he gets Oscar's attention and how he seemingly can't annoy or inadvertently piss off Oscar even if he tries to wind him up in videos or if he gets lost in admiration for his own trophy while Oscar shrugs off his own P14 finish and smiles at Lando. I genuinely think that level of undemanding affection has Lando sort of squirmy in an adorable way.

and Oscar clearly went into the personal side of his relationship to Lando of just enjoying whatever he gets and not trying to be someone he isn't. rookie seasons are already so pressure packed and the drama with Alpine followed by the rough start McLaren had won't have helped. he's just trying to do his job and prove his place and honestly isn't bothering to hide that he's baffled and flustered at finding himself interacting with Lando Norris the way Carlos Sainz and Daniel Ricciardo were. it's easier to just let people see that Lando can wrap him around his finger.

when all the time, if they'd met via Max F or mutual non-F1 friends, Oscar would fold right into Lando's group like butter on toast. I think that's what we pick up on with either or both of them getting shy and crushing on each other like new best friends at school. F1 has picked them up and put a camera on them and we're watching them slowly learn if it's okay to put an arm around each other or sit very close or touch the other person's hair. because they know this is very Real FriendTM friend potential and they don't want to spook each other and their feelings could so easily be hurt if they thought the other person didn't want to be friends as much or if they'd turn their back on them in front of their other friends.

they're not interacting as Typical Blokes by horseplay or teasing or being loud and they're not Just Guys Bein Dudes using humor and sarcasm to figure out the pecking order.

most of the time they're so shy or Lando's in a mood and Oscar finds it adorable and they're watching each other so closely the whole time like this and aauuuuhhggggg it's so vulnerable and sweet.

that's how it feels to me anyway and why I'm so ???!!! watching them interact. and sidenote I'm so so glad Oscar is so steady and can celebrate Lando no matter what. bc Lando admits he struggles with that in turn and after the many times it's been tested it's clearly never going to be something that breaks them before they can continue to get closer <3

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Surprise Guest Star

Summary: Actress Wanda has to record a short makeup tutorial/interview for Vogue, but while doing so a certain redhead makes an appearance

Authors note: I know absolutely nothing about make up or get ready with me type of things lol, so hopefully this all sounds right

Authors note 2.0: Hopefully I did your idea justice @aliearte (I'm sorry its so short 😭)

Word count: 622 Marvel Masterlist Works Without Reader Masterlist

   Wanda situates a small camera on her vanity before making sure she has everything she needs. Satisfied she has everything she sits down and presses the record button.

   “Hi Vogue, Wanda Maximoff here to walk you through one of my favorite looks. But first it's important to do some skin prep”

   She starts to walk her fans through the proper steps, making sure to mention each product she uses by name along with how long she's used it and how it benefits her skin before she moves onto the next product and step.

   Honestly, she feels a little self conscious doing this for an audience to enjoy, as she knows she tends to make some odd faces while applying things. But she supposes that a little bit of light hearted teasing wouldn’t be a bad thing.  

   “Okay, now we’re ready for the actual makeup part” she chuckles, “And hopefully I’ll pull it off without embarrassing myself”

   She starts off with her foundation, again being sure to once again mention the product by name along with why she likes it as she applies it. Next she moves onto her concealer and repeats the process. This continues for several minutes as she goes through the various steps of her routine until she's ready to move on to her eye makeup.

   “I’m going for a bit of a smokey eye look today” she explains, refraining from adding that she's doing so because Natasha goes absolutely wild for it.

   She continues on, telling her fans what brands she uses as she starts appling and pretty soon she's so focused that she doesn’t even register the faint sound of keys jingling in the distance. Meaning she also doesn’t register Natashas footsteps as the redhead makes her way back towards the bedroom 

   “Hey detka(baby)” she greets as she enters, oblivious to what she had just interrupted. She doesn’t even register the camera as she wraps her arms around Wanda and places a kiss against her lips

   Wanda can’t help the large grin that takes over her features now that Nat is there, “Hi dorogoy(sweetheart), I missed you today”

   But before Nat can say anything in response she notices the small blinking red light, indicating that her girlfriend had been in the middle of filming something, “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” 

   Natasha takes a step back, intent on giving the brunette time and space to finish up whatever she had been doing, but Wanda had immediately missed the warmth of her presence and had quickly grabbed a hold of her hand to prevent her from retreating further

   “You aren’t interrupting, I can finish this up after I see you”

   Nat gives her a sheepish smile, “But I’m in your footage now, which means you’ll have to do some editing before sending it off to them”

   “Or, I could always just leave it in. Let all my fans see my beautiful girlfriend”

   “You don’t have to do that” she stresses, trying her best to ignore the way her cheeks were burning at just the mere thought of everyone finally knowing they were together

   “I know I don’t have to, but I want to” she reassures, “I’d love for everyone to know who has my heart”

   Natasha feels her heart swell as she sees the sincerity in her girlfriend's eyes, “You're sure? I mean, I doubt everyone will be happy with the news”

   “I’m happy with you. So I don’t care what anyone else thinks. Well, anyone other than you of course”

   “I’m happy with you too, and I don’t care what they might think either. I love you”

    Wanda smiles, “I love you too, and in a few days, everyone will know just how much.”

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #12

Stanky Danky

Me: Huh, Mark's extended family must have stopped dropping by to eat the pollution. Mr. Guzman: There's even trash in space! Me: oh no

I like how Hazel consistently wears her hair covering at night. The first time I heard this show would have a black girl for a protagonist (like a year+ ago), I was really nervous about whether it would be handled well- I'd braced myself for "trying too hard to score diversity points."

I have to say, I've liked the hair style variety within her own family, and I feel like there have been more black background characters than I remember from the OG show (though I didn't go practically frame by frame in the OG like I'm doing for this liveblog).

I didn't say it in "Trial or Hair-or," but I enjoyed how Hazel formed a stronger bond with and love for her hair, as I feel like that would be important to her personal identity. I like how she always wears this hair covering to bed. Little details like that make me feel so much more at ease about something I was really nervous about for what feels like 15 months.

SLKDJFSLDKJF Cosmo and Wanda are still sleeping in separate beds. I mean, that's standard Fairy culture in my 'fics, so it works for me.

Trash monster is nice! Didn't see that coming.

Hazel: I wish he could speak at least a few words? /wish granted and he can speak only a few words

I knew it, Kennueth IS on a cliff in that poster. I'm surprised Hazel had to wish for him to breathe air last episode.

Uh-oh, it's Dimmadome time- WHAT DO YOU MEAN "one-time use helicopter??" Sir, you can't bring that to an event about polluting less and saving the earth! ... Is Dale in there? I have to assume so. I've been missing him.

Me: Aww, Dale looks just like his old self! Awesome, and easier to recognize when he's not panning across the- OH MY GOSH!!! Dale: When I was your age, I spent my Saturdays working in a factory underneath a lemonade stand >:/ (Pulls out photo of him from "Nectar of the Odds"

Sir. SIR!! Do not repeat the abuse cycle with your son!

-> I hate that he just carries this around. Dale, you need to let it go. And maybe sue Vicky, idk.

I'm CRYING, I love how they gave him false teeth. That's hilarious.

The boots... That's a Dimmadome, all right.

Like, on some level I'm glad Doug spoiled him after he was rescued from Vicky's lemonade horror show, but I'm gettin' a bad feeling...

I can only assume this family tells horror stories about Vicky. This is the funniest anti-hero backstory ever. I was also going to treat Dale's torment 100% seriously in 'fic, but this is way more fun.

They are not cutting any corners. They didn't even change his backstory; he literally got tormented underneath a lemonade stand for 7 years. That's the one piece of canon he was given in the OG show and by golly, are they sticking to it.

Did Vicky take over the lemon torture pit from someone else?? Did she start this gig when she was 9? Is she gettin' retconned? Hm.

They definitely do not drink lemonade in the Dimmadome house. Please let me see Hazel offering Dev his first taste. If we don't get that as an episode someday, I'm writing a 'fic.

Dev trying to get out of pollution clean-up day: But... is our company even earth-conscious?

Too funny.

Okay, I've been thinking about it ever since Episode 1, but why didn't Dale get a fairy? I was waving it off under the assumption he'd only been underground for a couple days max, but... with 7 years, now I have questions.

-> Did Vicky move her lemonade kids around? The stand wasn't always on Timmy's front lawn, but... Surely Cosmo or Wanda would've detected him if he WAS under Timmy's lawn for 7 years.

WELP, trash monster's upset there's not gonna be more trash to eat if they clean it all up. I can see the problem. Uh-oh...

Why do I get the feeling that Dale has said "Come to Daddy," to the trash monster more than he's said it to his own son?

Hazel's parents didn't come to the trash clean-up?

sldkfjsdklfj he's still got the boots... I hate him /affectionate.

There is something severely funny to me about how they've made it clear they took inspiration from Dale's canon design, but his adult design lost his fluff and cowlick and has sleeker, professional hair. Something about this feels very correct for this art style because I feel like a lot of the adults have shiny hair without little tufts and decorations. I might redo my adult designs.

Oh, Hazel doesn't even know that's Dev's dad because she didn't see his mental pictures in Episode 1. This keeps getting better. I love how she also said "That guy with the ridiculous boots" after I pointed out the boots. Yes, Hazel, we've been over this... He's a Dimmadome.

Cosmo and Wanda in their apartment again! Just chillin'.

I don't know why I didn't expect Dev's drones to be called Dimmadrones.

Dale to the trash monster: You're like a son to me! Dev in the background:

The moon is still a waxing crescent when you're in space? ... I mean, I guess.

Peace of Pizza

Ya know, I'm surprised we haven't seen the Ya Boix drinks come up more than the fact that Kev sponsors them (mentioned in 2 episodes). I guess it's nice that they were depth for a side character, but that surprises me since they're the first thing you see in the theme song.

Ooh, Dev's in the title card! Where's this going?

I like how Hazel was using Cosmo pencil to stab Wanda eraser. She may have fairies, but she's still a bored schoolkid.

I... I was going to cheer that we had a list of names for classmates, but uh...

The Kindness Chart isn't in alphabetical order. I feel like putting Dev at the bottom was a targeted move.

Or it's reverse alphabetical since she's Hazel Wells and he's Dev Dimmadome.

It's still a waning crescent?

Maybe I'm old-school, but "pea pod aliens" is setting off all my alarm bells.

... Aliens are insisting everyone loves pizza, but what if someone's lactose intolerant?

Okay, since we're just coming off the episode where Dale reminded Dev he was locked underground making lemonade for 7 years, I feel like I don't blame Dev for not trusting anyone?

Like, I get the feeling his dad is emotionally absent, but this might not entirely be his dad's doing. I'm not sure I'd trust people either if my dad got yoinked for 7 years when he was my age.

Especially since Vicky's whole thing is that she's nice until she starts bullying. Yeah... don't trust.

sdfklj, Dev slam-dunking his stuff in the trash can and backflipping away. That's so unnecessarily extra.

Does the news never have anything important to report? ... I'm glad Winn brought up the thought of getting their own pizza, since I was wondering about that myself.

SLKDFJSDF...

Hazel: Dev, I have someone here who wants to talk to you! Dev: What's she doing? The Closer: She's trying to use someone close to you to appeal to your emotions. Dev: ... ?? No one's close to me. wtf. /scene change where Cosmo is dressed as Dev's dad.

Oh, this is gonna go great.

Dev, instantly switching gears after hearing "his father"'s voice through the door: ... Dad? You took off work for this?

Ruh-roh.

-> Wanda can read him like a dog-eared book.

So... She- she's gonna report this to Jorgen, right? I feel like she's supposed to do that. She's gonna tell him this kid is ticking multiple misery boxes, right? She's not just gonna ignore this... Wanda, please.

Not sure how I feel about the running gag that so many adults look like Timmy's adult self from "The Big Problem." Throws me off every time and I wasn't a fan of that design anyway, so it feels weird.

HE'S LACTOSE INTOLERANT, I KNEW IT! ... Well, not really him specifically, but I was on the right track.

Oh, this is terrible. Am I mistaken, or aren't lactose intolerant pills like, $10? Does he know? Does he know.

Dev: I thought lactose-free pizza was just a myth?

Dale, you're a terrible father.

Also, I like how a lot of effort was put into converting their designs to 2D, right down to Dev's yellow zipper stripe:

Okay, that's enough for this post... On to "A New Dev-elopment"!

[shakingparadigm]

I'm glad we have someone like you in the fandom and that you started a youtube channel too. It feels less lonely I guess! Everything you post (theories,art,informations,jokes) is in my opinion so interesting,creative and detailed. I don't really send asks but I really had to tell you that I appreciate all of this,not what you simply post,but create too! I believe after Alien Stage will end,I will miss your posts about it but I'll have a good time remembering the days before a round was dropped,where we all assembled there to scream in fear (AVENGERS... ASSEMBLE LOL) and I'm sure I'll continue visit even if you'll talk about something else,with Vivinos content here and there if qmeng and the team will post about it etc!

One thing that makes me more conscious about ''IvanTill tragedy'' is that... Ivan loved the idea,the meaning,he had of Till,because he never got to be seen by him,got to express himself and be something for Till,which means getting to really enter Till's world. So I think at some point he asked himself ''What do I love'',which led him to the circle of reasons we deduced from their backstories,reason of the words chosen in the official art,where he says ''shallow feelings''... but they weren't shallow at all... And I think this is so sad,that he could not feel the depth in it,or understand his emotions... It's so sad we don't have a glimpse of Till's pov... Thank you for reading this until the end,I'll silently return in my den :)

Sorry this turned into such a long and awkwardly sentimental post,,,, ;;

Thank you....!!!

I'm really happy that you think of me so nicely, even if my posts and speculations are off the mark... or if the things I make are truthfully not very good. Even if they're mediocre at best, I still put a lot of my heart into them. I've always had a lot of things to say, but I never really opened myself to speaking about them until earlier this year. It feels really nice and comforting to share everything and be responded to with the same level of enthusiasm. I keep repeating myself when giving my thanks, but it's just because I will always be grateful to everyone I've talked to so far. That will never change. Thank you for taking the time to send me an ask! It really means everything to me. Let's focus on enjoying ourselves and anticipating what's to come! Even though Alien Stage is bound to end, we're still only halfway there!

I genuinely would like to thank you for your support. I wouldn't hold it against you if eventually you lost interest in my blog later down the line, but the fact that you'd still want to visit even if I end up switching to other things is so kind. I can't put down everything I'd like to say in a way that sounds coherent, and I undoubtedly am making this a bigger deal than it has to be, but from the bottom of my heart I'd like to thank you and everyone who has been so so kind to me. Truthfully I'm still unsure about whether or not I even deserve it, but I want you to know that I appreciate everything. I remember everything, too. Right down to the first few people who shared their thoughts to me back when I first started this blog!

I'm sorry if I seem like a bit of a downer, or if I seem less active lately? Less present or something like that. There's a lot that I've been going through lately (to add on to that my damn house flooded. yikes. currently staying at a friend's right now), and it honestly worries me to think about a lot of things, not to mention all the asks that I haven't been able to answer yet... I'm so sorry. I'll get to them eventually, I promise! They mean a lot to me and I want to do them justice with an answer, but some days I just can't find it in me to put thoughts into words.... once again, I'm so sorry. I don't want to make it seem as though they're a burden or anything, though! It's genuinely the highlight of my day to receive one.

Your perspective on Ivan and Till is worded so wonderfully. It truly is tragic that Ivan views his feelings as shallow, especially when in reality they're so complex and all-encompassing. Someone who loves so fervently and desperately (obssessively) actively denies themselves something as simple as the validation of their own feelings. Ivan viewed so lowly of himself until the very end, believing that he was never able to mean anything to Till (You don't care about me is such a devastating line). Ivan's emotions are complicated on purpose, his character was designed with the intention to confuse. It's stated that only Ivan himself can truly know what he's feeling, but even then he is an unreliable narrator and is too deep in the throes of self-loathing to allow himself any mercy. Constantly at war with himself, even just moments before his demise.

Ivan is described to have the most flawed personality out of his peers ("twisted"). The fact that he hones in on this aspect of himself to the point where he cannot see himself as anything of worth to the people he cares about is so profoundly sad. A flaw within itself, the perfect recipe for self-sabotage.

Till's perspective on Ivan is desperately needed, even if it wouldn't make a difference to the present circumstances. When speaking of Ivan's feelings for Till, VIVINOS mentions that one cannot simply move on from such deep-seated and long lasting emotions in just a short time. Surely Till would share this sentiment, right? Constantly overwhelmed by his own heart, wouldn't Till mull over the feelings that drove Ivan to sacrifice? Wouldn't he dwell on the impact that Ivan has made on his person? What form does Ivan take in Till's memory? One cannot move on from feelings like this so easily, and although Till didn't feel for Ivan in the same way, it's undeniable that he at least felt something.

So far (iirc), the only official statement of Till's feelings towards Ivan is that Till found him strange (and vice-versa, but Ivan was fascinated and attracted to Till's "strangeness" while it seems that Till was... less so...). Although it makes sense that Till is so protective of his true feelings, it would be nice for his thoughts on Ivan to be expanded upon, just for some semblance of closure.

(Sorry if this went off-topic.... or if my answer ended up being off again haha but thank you genuinely for the ask. I appreciate it more than you could ever know).

[sophieinwonderland]

The Plurality of... Blue Beetle! (Movie)

Plurality: A state of multiple self-conscious agents, or "headmates," sharing a single body.

Oh, this one is going to be a little rough!

If you know the Blue Beetle, it shouldn't be surprising that they're a plural character. We've never read Blue Beetle comics, but my host was pretty familiar with Blue Beetle from Young Justice, where Jaime had a pretty big role in season 2.

I went into Blue Beetle with high hopes and, if I'm honest, ended up a little disappointed.

But before we can get into why I felt that way, let's first talk about their plurality!

Spoilers for the Blue Beetle movie ahead:

Jaime Reyes and Khaji-Da as plural characters

In the movie, Khaji-Da, often referred to as just "The Scarab," is a world-destroying weapon that found its way to Earth.

It bonds with Jaime Reyes when he touches it, fusing to his flesh and turning him into the Blue Beetle in an elaborate body horror sequence.

Khaji is established as a sentient being, and is able to communicate with Jaime mentally. Now, it's not actually clear if Jaime can communicate back mentally like many real headmates can. Every time he talks to Khaji is aloud, which I think was also how it was in Young Justice too. It's possible that while the Scarab can send messages to Jaime's mind, it can't read it. But that seems kind of a strange limitation when the movie shows it gaining access to a person's full memory after connecting with them, and is at least able to figure out Jaime's name through their connection.

It would seem weird to me if talking out loud to Khaji was necessary to be heard, but that's how the movie presents it. (This could be a comfort thing too. As part of a plural system, I'll admit we'll often talk out loud through the body when nobody is around to hear us. Words can be clearer than pure thoughts.)

A small part of the movie is dedicated to the two learning to get along, with there being some conflict around Khaji wanting to kill an enemy, and Jaime saying that they aren't killers.

This leads to an important moment later in the movie where Jaime is enraged, believing he's lost multiple family members, and is going to execute the villain.

The word "execute" is important here, because while other good characters have no problem killing (their nana took great joy in it, in fact), it's always against active combatants. Not someone who was disarmed. The movie doesn't make this distinction directly, but I think it's an important one.

It's one thing for superheroes to kill to protect themselves and others, most heroes are willing to these days, but it's another for them to kill someone who isn't actively a threat anymore.

Kahji takes just enough control to hold Jaime back from doing something he would regret, repeating back that they aren't killers, showing itself capable of learning from Jaime.

It's a cool moment, and I appreciated this little character growth.

Despite Khaji being sentient and capable of learning though...

Khaji isn't treated as a character

This was my disappointment with the movie.

Blue Beetle should have been more of a plural story, but Khaji is hardly ever treated as a character by the narrative or the other characters.

Yes, Khaji gets some funny lines here and there, ("Host overreacting" being a favorite of mine) but doesn't seem to have any real motivation, interests or really anything going for it.

And what's worse... there's not even a REAL CONVERSATION between Jaime and Khaji. Even when they really should be discussing things.

Like...

The Rooftop Scene

At one point, the bad guys have found Jaime's family. Jaime tried to activate his powers. They don't work. What's a Beetle to do?

Well, Jaime decided that since the Scarab will try to protect him, the best bet will be to JUMP OFF THE ROOF!

And while this is sorta well-reasoned, I found myself internally screaming this entire to time to just ask it to change.

Like, Khaji can talk. They literally said in the scene right before that Khaji was sentient.

And while jumping off the roof made for a dramatic scene, it eliminated what could have been a great moment with Jaime explaining the importance of his family and his need to protect them to Khaji.

It forced Khaji to help, when Kahji may have been perfectly willing to help if Jaime just talked to it, instead of trying to make Kahji to do what he wanted.

And you might wonder, does Khaji get offended at Jaime risking his life to force Khaji into doing what he wants? I wonder that too, because this moment is never mentioned again in the movie.

For a film so much about family, Khaji is never part of that

Blue Beetle is a movie centered around family.

It's about Jaime's relationship with his family who is very close, almost suffocating but in a good way. Jaime is driven to protect and fight for his family at every turn, and his family will do anything to protect him.

This is contrasted with the Kord family which is dysfunctional and broken, and Carapax who lost his family and sees familial love as a weakness.

These themes are intricately woven into the narrative.

So it is so disappointing how utterly divorced from that theme Khaji-Da ended up.

There is a great story to be told about this extraterrestrial machine that crashes to Earth, never having a family of its own or a concept of what family means, only to be bonded to Jaime and go from being treated as something to be gotten rid of to be welcomed as another member of Jaime's family.

That would be really cool. And they seemed willing to tell a similar story with Jenny Kord, being brought into the family group hug after everything was over.

But Khaji is treated less like a valued member of the family and more like an accessory. And even when Jaime fully bonds with Khaji, it's not about agreeing to integrate and share a mind so much as it's accepting his heroic destiny.

This feels like a huge missed opportunity for the type of story they were telling, and a betrayal of that story's central themes.

Jaime's Mother Addressing Khaji

This is the one exception where a character who wasn't Jaime actually treated Khaji as a person.

She first asks what Khaji's name was. Then says...

I know you can hear me, Khaji-Da. I want you both to get it together. Find your strength, mijito. Use the pain we’re feeling and turn it into power. I want you to go back in there… And kick their asses!

I love this so much. I love the mother's character for thinking to acknowledge Khaji as its own person and talk to it directly, giving her pep talk to both of them at once.

It's a fantastic scene. An incredible moment.

But it's also still treating Khaji as a weapon. The one and only time a character who isn't Jaime talks to Khaji, it's telling Khaji to go fight people.

I'm glad to have gotten this. But I feel they could have done so much more.

Khaji's feelings are never explored

We're told that the Scarab is a planet-destroying super weapon. How does Khaji feel about that?

We don't know. It never comes up.

Does Khaji have memories of worlds it's destroyed?

Does it know why it was created or who created it?

If it doesn't know those things, does the lack of awareness scare it?

Can it feel fear, and if Jaime asked if it was scared, would it understand the emotion?

The fact that these things weren't explored at all leaves me with one important and sad conclusion.

The writers weren't interested in writing a plural character

Blue Beetle's plurality is an afterthought.

The Scarab was sentient and Blue Beetle would use "we" pronouns occasionally because Khaji is sentient in the comics. But the relationship between the two wasn't a priority of the writers.

And in my opinion, the film suffered for it. Not just from a plural perspective but from a writing perspective. The film would have been so much better had Khaji been treated more like a character rather than just a weapon and plot device.

Khaji stopping Jaime from killing needed more build-up, and Khaji needed and deserved to be better integrated with the story's central themes of family.

Conclusion

All in all, I feel that Blue Beetle was a good movie. But I also feel its treatment of Khaji held it back from being a great movie.

I hope I don't come off as too hard on this particular movie. There's a lot of media that, when less explicitly plural, I might be more forgiving of. I once wrote a whole post about why I thought Kronk was plural based on his angel and demon Kronks who never get any sort of character arcs. But those aren't intended to be sentient people by the writers. Instead, they're plural by happenstance, simply by being more developed than other shoulder angels and demons in cartoons.

Meanwhile, Khaji Da is supposed to be a full character, I went in expecting a lot, and I feel Khaji just didn't live up to its potential in this movie.

I look forward to seeing what DC does with the character in the future, and if Khaji can get more development.

And I'm sad that, given the box office, it's probably not going to get a sequel of its own. I'm sure the planned Reach story would have given Khaji some much needed character development.

For more of me rambling about the plurality of DC superheroes, see: The Plurality of... Batman (Failsafe).

[vernonioideae]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 𝓐 𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓫𝓫𝓸𝓻𝓷 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽...

╱ albert wesker x reader, fluff, poor sick albert can't say no to his wife:( tbh i dont know what this is i was half conscious writing this god. anyways i believe in softie wesker🙏🏻 enjoy ⪨ ࣪ ׅ

"stop acting like im dying, im telling you it will pass. i can handle it." the harsh tone of yours husband's voice echoed in your head. lately, albert wesker has been feeling terrible. his whole body ached, he had a severe cough and obviously a runny nose. but in his head, albert wasn't weak. he couldn't show any sign of discomfort from all these things. he was a man after all, right? a tough, confident, brave human being that wasn't supposed to be so attached to showing any emotion.

in your eyes, his way of thinking was a bullshit. of course you loved him but sometimes he was too much. he wasn't a machine, but a real person having his own sensitivity that was hidden under his cold facade. you could see his deep hidden nature sometimes, especially when it came to you. he loved you deeply. the problem was that he just wasn't able to show it properly. but he was always trying for you no matter what.

"come on, albert... i can see you're in pain. just take one or two days off and let me take care of you." another problem about wesker was the fact that he overworked himself a lot. you knew he was a scientist at umbrella. this was all you knew about his job. you never really talked about it with him... you didn't know what was he exactly doing in his work, what he was researching, or other lab shit. it wasn't that you didn't care – of course you did. but after a long and exhausting day at work, wesker doesn't really want to talk about it. he always brushes off the topic by saying "as usual" or "good" and quickly asks about your day. there was a moment where you really thought he could be cheating, but there was no evidence of it. looking back, it was dumb to assume this, knowing how he's feeling about you and how deep is his love for you.

"oh no, no, no." the man scoffed. "don't even think about it. i repeat myself for the hundredth time. im not some weakling that can't deal with cold." god why was he so stubborn? you didn't know what you should do to convince him. it was hurting you a little. even if he was sick, it was finally an occasion for you both to spend some time together.

"please, albert." you looked at him. and the gaze was just showing so much. the care, love, and slight sadness. you grabbed his hand, like you didn't want to let him go anymore. you didn't want to argue anymore since this whole talk was going for twenty minutes straight. albert looked down at you. he felt your gentle yet firm touch on his hand, wesker felt defeated. he realized that even if he's all tough he can't be always like this towards his beloved one. if it meant so much to you – he was willing to give in. that was just excuse. he couldn't stand a fact he was always a softie when it came to you. he moved your hand towards his lips, placing a soft kiss on it.

"fine. but only this time." you never felt so happy hearing such a simple few words. you almost jumped at him closing both bodies in a tight embrace, making his body even more sore but it was worth the moment. he heard you mutter "i love you" and his heart slightly skip a beat.

"go upstairs okay? i'll make you some hot tea. then i'm gonna make some soup for you while you rest. and maybe we can cuddle later" albert smiled at all of those words. the way you became so gentle and soft towards him. he already liked the idea of every form of affection that he could receive from you. he nodded his head and placed a kiss on your cheek before walking away towards the stairs. "of course, i will be waiting for you my darling."

[justajsworkshop]

How do I know if I've accepted or I'm 'knowing' correctly? I don't doubt the fact that I am one with everything but I can't trust myself to do it correctly and this stops me from persisting more than a few hours. I'm never sure that I've assumed correctly because it always feels like I'm just stating something mindlessly.

ok, everyone. LISTEN UP. you’ve got to stop over intellectualizing this and fixating on the method or the feeling state or “doing it right.”

all of this implies your fulfillment is conditional upon following the law correctly. you’re being a pharisee instead of christ. it’s not about executing everything everyone says on the internet; recognize that you ARE the law. physical reality is literally dependent on your narrative of self, so read your ask again and tell me: who does this person believe that they are?

i do this often when i feel stuck. i imagine myself telling someone (usually tom) what i perceive my problem to be, and it reflects back to me who I believe i am; it’s usually a narrative of “i am not that which i desire to be,” and seeing how im writing that story myself empowers me to choose a different one.

you all keep coming to me saying “i know i am god/one with everything,” but you don’t. because if you did, you wouldn’t follow up with all this justification for self denial and self limitation. i think you’re just saying this to avoid hearing me repeat it, even if it’s unintentional because you’re looking for a secret loophole: but YOU are the loophole.

you are the door; you are the way. god already said yes by giving you kingdom through your ability to imagine yourself differently. don’t confuse imagining with visualizing. imagining is just remembering. to desire IS to become aware of fulfillment. fulfillment is the cause, not the effect. it’s the beginning AND the end.

but if you decide to continue saying yes to your current reality over and over again by accepting it as the one and only reality, what else do you expect to experience when YOU are reality? we’re not changing anything: we’re choosing who we want to be.

i’ve talked about the simultaneous nature of time and reality many times. time is irrelevant. it’s not about when. it’s not about how long. it’s not about the method or getting it right. it’s not about feeling a certain way. remember, feelings are feelings, but i am. my faith may not be perfect, but i am.

i will say it time and time again: this is the greatest love story every told because it’s about you awakening to who you really are: so who do you say you are? what is your narrative of self? because we don’t manifest by doing; we manifest who and what we are conscious of being.

and all im seeing here is a person who knows themselves as someone who is looking for the magic fix outside themselves when they’re sitting in the miracle of existing as pure consciousness, and they are completely unaware to the fact that they are the most beautiful, powerful, and capable creature in all creation because they ARE all creation.

please, take a moment today to SLOW DOWN. stop asking questions from reality and start recognizing that you ARE reality. humbly and sincerely ask god to show you what you’re not seeing. get inquisitive and self reflective about your own beingness and your inner narrative. no can tell you “how” to be. so, ask yourself: who do i say i am? get curious and observational. creating that distance will show you how you aren’t the narrative; you’re the writer.

no one can choose for you. i know you might wish it now, but trust me, you’ll be grateful for this priceless gift of autonomy and free will when you know your true self. you have to choose to be different for yourself. it’s all about you. drop the notion of doing it right and get self-reflective.