#so much negative space screams

[neptnzz]

drew this vehk a bit ago too as practice bc i hadn't drawn him in WAY too long........... i based him off of that one mk concept art / mural of the tribunal bc i love their looks there I LOVE THAT ART WRAA

[yakityyaku]

very funny (irritating) to me that everyone whined and yelled about stupid rainbow capitalism and how performative wokeness/allyship is a net bad we should all refuse to support and now like.

tumblr is doing nothing for pride and target isn't selling much (if any) of their pride collection offline except at certain stores (in democratic areas, basically) and build a bear has a much tinier collection than normal and all the actual pride stuff is on their "adult" website (not sure if it's in stores, but pride = adult is a hell of a message)

there are genuinely good criticisms for performative allyship in all its applications. it shouldn't be the only thing we expect from people and companies. but if all the shit I see being called performative stopped tomorrow then in terms of the LGBTQ+ community especially we just. wouldn't talk about queerness or queer issues or celebrate pride or do anything.

open your fucking eyes. we are very close politically to having gay marriage rolled back. now companies are basically being let off the hook to even make a miniscule effort (which matters to the people who don't have access to any other kind of support in their communities! which normalizes the community in public spaces!) because the only reaction they have gotten over the last few years are negative ones from BOTH sides.

we are so entrenched in discourse at all times for the sake of our OWN performance of who is the wokest and who is REALLY an ally or a good community member that we have basically handed over all the work of activists of the last several decades to the other side because we'd rather scream at each other over fucking chicken restaurants and shit than the real life backsliding that's happening.

and this goes for other shit too. feminism, poc rights, all of it.

also. trans rights aren't discourse and aren't just culture war arguments. in case any terfs think they can spin this to be antitrans.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt: Valentine's day spirit. Superbat edition.

When Phantom sets foot on the Justice League base many years later, he expects anything but not Flash pointing finger at him and screaming about "legendary child who made Superbat canon".

~~~~

Being in Metropolis because of a ghost hunt right in the middle of a battle between Lex Luthor and Superman was not the best outcome, especially considering that Jack had his three-year-old son with him. But without such a combination of circumstances, they would never have found out that "Ghost!" "Daddy, no!" Ectoblast that Jack shot at the target of their hunt touches Superman and..really hurts him.

There were two sides to Danny-the ghostbuster's son and the astronerd. It is clear which half of him did not have a chance to win.

Danny threw his space rocket toy aside and grabbed father's arm. In the next second, boy had already sunk his teeth into Jack's fingers, forcing him to drop weapon. Youngling quickly jumped off and picked up ectoblast and then ran towards Superman. "Fly away! I'll hold him!" Danny stood up to try to cover up ghost (or alien?) in case Dad took not one but a whole bunch of shooting things with him again.

Jack: Get away from my son, ghost. Superman: Sir, I'm sure this is some kind of misunderstanding, I'm not a ghost. Jack: Danny, come to me, he's trying to hide his identity and manipulate us. Danny: No. If the heroes are being attacked, then someone must protect them too. Jack: But he's a ghost.. Danny: Alien or ghost is not so important, Daddy. He's in pain, and he's protecting this city, not haunting it. It's wrong to try to catch him for experiments. I forbid you to do that. Jack: Danny, champ, you're wrong.

Lex: Hah, what an interesting substance. Despite the other aggregate state, or rather its absence, it is so similar to kryptonite. Superman: Lex, is this a portable lab? Now is not the time, in case you haven't noticed. Lex: There is always time for science. I think my colleague will agree, right? "Similar to kryptonite?" Jack muttered to himself.

Jack: So Superman wasn't my target. And we are not colleagues. There is only one insanely rich man with questionable moral values with whom I am ready to do work, and your surname is clearly not Masters. Lex: It's a pity, but still, if you want to carry out the delivery of your wonderful weapons or exchange experiences, then call this number. Luther quickly shoves a business card into Fenton's hand. Jack*throws it away*: Come on, son, let's go back to the hotel, you've skinned your knees.

~~~The Evening. The Roof of the mentioned hotel~~~

"My friend Sam is also very frightening. And she also likes dark.“ The boy paused for a minute of thinking. “You want to kiss your goth friend?" "W-What makes you think that, kid. We’re colleagues, I respect him very much and.." "So you want to. It’s okay, I’d like to kiss Sam too but I’m afraid she’s gonna hit me. You have the same problem?" "It’s a little more complicated for adults." Kal begins to explain but stumbles upon Danny’s completely unimpressed look. Yeah, this boy apparently has heard 'kids would understand when they grow up' lectures at least thousand times. "But you’re basically right."

~~~~

When Batman himself comes to their hotel the next day as a representative of the Justice League to make sure that Mr. Fenton has no desire to harm Superman in the future and to tell that Superman is not going to press charges because of the ectoblast that injured him, Danny refuses to leave the room.

Jack: Oh, Danny, I thought you dropped your space rocket yesterday, it's a good that Alicia's Christmas present isn't lost. Danny: Well, dad, I left it on the roof of a bad bad man, yeah, but Uncle Kal returned it last night and we talked for a while. Jack: About what? Space, my little star? *Father immediately assumes that Danny would like to ask about everything real alien*. Boy*blushes and shakes his head negatively*: No, not about it.

Jack: Then what it was about? Danny: Secret superhero things. I can't tell you. I agreed to withhold that information as part of a pinky swear. Batman: And what about me, young man? You can tell me, right? Batman couldn't resist talking with such a cute kid. The boy thinks only for a second before hurriedly trying to push his father out of the room. Danny: Dad, come out for a minute and don't eavesdrop. I'll tell you when you can come in. The big man laughingly obeys. Lil child checks the reliability of the closed door and runs up to Batman. Danny: And so, Mr. Batman, first promise not to laugh or hit Uncle Kal. Batman: I promise? Danny: Good. This is very important information. Batman: I'm listening.

Danny: He thinks you're terrifying and wants to kiss you. And since he is afraid that you will hit him for this, I recommended him to appease you with a pie cooked according to his mother's recipe. Well, you know, since you love sweets and his parents' farm has the most wonderful apples in all states. He rarely cooks himself, but he will try for you, so even if he doesn't succeed, pretend that you liked it, please. Batman:...

Batman: Would you like to work in intelligence for the Justice League when you grow up? Danny: Actually, I want to be an astronaut. Batman: Our base is located in space. Danny:

Danny: Hmm, then I'll think about your offer.

Batman: Great. It's a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Fenton. You can count on a job recommendation from me. Do you want anything as compensation for your consultation? Danny: Actually, yes. Mr. Batman, tell me honestly, are you a bat on a frugivorous diet like Giant golden-crowned flying fox or you are a Vampire Bat? Sam says that such a big bat can only be a vegetarian and uncle Kal said your son was more than happy to steal strawberries from his garden with Superboy but..

~~~

Batman tries to behave naturally for a week. However, the sweet tooth inside him still makes him clamp Superman in the corner and question him. "Where the hell are the pies you promised to cook for me, Clark?"

[heirofnight]

meddling, pt. 2

pairing: azriel x reader

word count: 1.4k

summary: the next little installment of pure preciousness revolving around these two. no plot, just fluff. azriel is smitten with the idea of doting on reader - he's just pure and sweet and wants to make her life easier. reader wears azriel's sweater, and his heart almost explodes. azriel then rearranges the entire library for reader because she can't reach her favorite books. enjoy!

a/n: thank you so much for all of the love revolving around this little drabble-turned-series! this is another example of me sitting down and just writing until i feel like stopping. no plot, just cutesy fluff. i hope you love it! also lightly edited, sorry for any mistakes. <3

read part one here

six months ago, you'd arrived at the house of wind. for the first two months, you had gone to great lengths to isolate yourself from the high lord and his family. while you'd had no initial negative feelings towards the group, you'd prioritized cultivating a peaceful environment for yourself after the past you'd so narrowly escaped from. this involved keeping to yourself, finding solace in the private library a few doors down from your rooms, and not speaking to anyone else.

four months ago, you'd been tricked into attending your first family dinner in the dining hall on the second floor. funnily enough, the house itself - along with one of az's stray little shadows - were the reasons why you'd ended up frozen in the archway of the dining room, every instinct in your body screaming at you to flee to your chambers. after polite coaxing from rhys, and encouraging nods from azriel, you'd felt welcomed as a new member of the tight-knit inner circle by the end of the meal.

you still found yourself looking back on that evening and smiling fondly.

now, this evening, you were perched on your favorite chair within the library, book in hand. you'd cycled through several different series over the last few months, and tonight, you were beginning a new trilogy that you'd found tucked at the top of your go-to shelf. the tall, wooden display of books contained a myriad of novels in every genre you could imagine. you struggled to reach the top row of books, which - of course - contained your favorite genre: romance. you briefly wondered if the males that resided here had sequestered books about love in this hard-to-reach spot on purpose. you'd had to grab a footstool and still stand on your tip-toes to reach the novels you'd desired.

alas, you'd finally grabbed them - all three at once, to save yourself the exertion of all but climbing the entire shelf when it was time to move onto the other two books in a few days.

you were snuggled comfortably in your favorite armchair, large droplets of rain pelting the side of the library's windows. it was dark, gloomy, and the perfect reading weather. a fire burned brightly within the hearth across from you, warming your legs and toes. dim fae lights and candles flickered a relaxing glow into the space.

you nuzzled into an oversized, lived-in, charcoal grey sweater. it belonged to azriel - well, it had - and his scent still lingered as if it were woven into the threads themselves.

he'd silently approached you last week, same sweater folded neatly in his hands, politely extending the fabric your way. you'd abandoned the focus on the book in front of you to meet his gaze, brows cinching together in silent confusion.

"you said you were always cold," he started, voice quiet. he always spoke to you so quietly. gently. and he wasn't wrong, you truly were always freezing - a fact the house had learned, too. it made sure to always have the hearth burning in any room you were occupying.

you smiled fondly up at him, nodding once. "i'm surprised you remember that, az," you said, a faint rosiness creeping onto your cheeks. he noticed your blush, and it made the corner of his full lips quirk upward.

he huffed out a quiet breath in response, extending the sweater a little further towards you. "i thought maybe this would help. i don't ever really need it - illyrian blood, you know. i'm always warm. anyway, i understand if you don't want it. but i promise it's clean, and when i have worn it, it's always kept me warm. so...-," he trailed off, realizing he was rambling, full of nerves. now it was his turn for his cheeks to turn pink, and he cleared his throat, breaking the eye contact.

a wide grin spread across your cheeks as you reached forward to take the large, soft sweater from his hands. "thank you, az. really. this is perfect," you whispered shyly, holding the fabric against your chest. he smiled proudly, a dimple peeking out.

and that was that - he walked over to his preferred spot within the library, wings perked in pride. he made himself comfortable with a book of his own, and you both read in silent companionship.

tonight, you'd adorned that same sweater as you let the sound of the rain outside become the soundtrack to your escapism. out of your peripheral, one lone shadow twirled through the door of the library - your favorite little tendril. you glanced up as it approached you, swirling around your right hand as it always did in greeting. you smirked, knowing its master was not too far behind.

sure enough, in strode azriel shortly after - the rest of his shadows lazily twining around his form. his eyes found you immediately, and his steps faltered as he realized you were wearing his clothing. that dimple made another appearance as he smiled shyly, cocking an eyebrow upward.

"keeping you warm?," he asked, taking in how cozy and well, adorable you looked like that. in his clothing. reading a book in the candlelight. azriel was in trouble, and he knew it.

you nodded, sitting up straighter as you took him in. his hazel eyes were nearly glowing. "very. it's my new prized possession," you smiled, and that comment nearly made azriel's heart burst.

he hummed, quite pleased. "good. it looks like it was made for you," and he meant every word. maybe he should give you every piece of oversized, warm clothing he owned. they looked far better on you, anyway.

you looked back at the open pages of your book, smiling, trying to hide the blush creeping from your neck up to your cheeks. he noticed anyway - he noticed everything.

"how's that one?," he nodded his chin towards the book in your hand as he got comfortable in his own armchair. his wings spread behind him in a relaxed fashion.

"oh, i can't put it down," you sighed, looking up at him once more.

he hummed, glancing around at the tall spread of novels that surrounded the both of you. "i've never seen it on the shelves", he mused, brows furrowed as he studied the closed cover of your book.

you took a sip of your tea, snorting in jest after you swallowed. "probably because it's tucked away on the highest shelf in here," you huffed a laugh, rolling your eyes fondly. "i had to use a step stool, and even then, i barely reached it."

he nodded once, studying you for a moment. he looked as though he was pondering something. the moment ended quickly, his own eyes averting to the pages in the open book before him.

the next day, you'd entered the library after breakfast - as always. what surprised you is that you weren't alone like you normally were around this time.

azriel was already there, positioned in front of your favorite shelf, pulling every single romance book down from the top row.

"...az?," you questioned quietly, trying not to startle him. "what are you doing?," you stepped forward, peering up at him. his large hands held a stack of books, most of which you'd already read.

he turned towards you, cheeks quickly tinting pink. "oh, y/n," he paused for a moment, looking from the stack in his hands and up to the top shelf before meeting your eyes.

"well, you said that the books you enjoyed were too high. so.... i rearranged a couple of shelves to make sure they were at a height you could reach," he smiled bashfully.

you froze in place, taking in the entire scene before you. and sure enough, he'd already moved most of the romance novels. and beyond that, he'd also relocated them to a shelf that was right next to your favorite chair. you could literally just reach over from where you normally sat, easily plucking your next choice from the row without having to move.

you smiled widely up at him, eyes twinkling, and he swore his heart was going to swell and float right out of his chest.

"az," you breathed out, "can i hug you?," you blurted, overcome with emotion.

he huffed out a laugh, carefully setting the stack of books in his large hands down beside him. he nodded then, opening his arms for you.

you stepped into his large frame, and he stilled for a moment. he shifted to hold you tightly, and his wings twitched with the sudden urge to wrap around you too. his arms didn't feel like enough, you should be closer.

instead, he settled for moving one hand to the back of your head, cradling you against his chest. he smiled to himself, another wave of pride flowing through his chest and limbs.

he could get used to this.

tag list: @stressed-reader @vhjlucky13 @scarsandallaz @victory-salads @weirdo-fun

if you'd like to be added, pls let me know <3

[klausinamarink]

You’re Never Too Much

rating: T | cw: negative self talk | wc: 1.5k | tags: angst with happy ending, hurt Steve, arguing and making up, established relationship, post-canon | prompt: Love is giving them space when they need it

written for @steddielovemonth

Steve knows he can be unbearable with his partners sometimes. 

He can’t help it. He doesn’t have a switch that shuts down the sparkling fountain of love like his parents apparently possess. It just naturally flows his veins without pause and surges anew every day.

His first girlfriend Heidi had broken up with him three days into the relationship, saying that Steve was too much for her. He had been more confused than devastated back then because since when did hugging your girlfriend from behind with a kiss to the cheek become ‘too much’? It only confused Steve more when he saw Heidi’s new boyfriend doing the exact same thing with her and they’d been together for three months by then.

Steve had ignored the tiny pang in his chest, shrugged off Carol’s comments, and moved on. Maybe he and Heidi weren’t meant to be anyways.

But it kept happening with the other girls. Leaving romantic poems in the locker instead of make-out invites? Too much. A bundle of flowers after class? Too much. Wanting to cuddle after sex? Too much. Stay the morning after? Too much.

Then came Nancy and she had adored every one of Steve’s antics that none of his previous girlfriends had liked. He quickly made his own schedule of sneaking into her bedroom late in the evening to help her study because he loved her blush and the bright gleam in her eyes. The day when Nancy told him that he was a dork was the day when Steve felt his heart swell because finally, he wasn’t being too much. 

And then Barb disappeared and monsters turned out to be real.

Nancy stayed with him but it wasn’t the same anymore. She would still laugh at his corny jokes and affirmations but Steve had seen her distant eyes, no longer bright with the same love. Like she had managed to switch it off by herself.

Steve should’ve split up with her. But he didn’t want to be an asshole and leave her miserable with no support who knew nothing about the Upside Down. But she hadn’t pushed him away or told him his efforts were too much. So he stayed.

If he had left sooner, then Steve wouldn't have been told in a stranger’s bathroom that his love wasn’t just too much, they were bullshit instead.

He couldn’t trust himself with another romantic partner after that.

And then about two years later, he and Eddie started dating. 

Everything that Steve had been told was ‘too much’ or ‘bullshit’ became ‘give me more’. More lazy kisses in the morning, more cuddles on the couch, more help with the laundry or dishes, more lovemaking, more, more.

Steve also found out real quick that Eddie loved whenever Steve quoted Shakespeare - especially Romeo and Juliet or Much Ado About Nothing - for no reason except to watch his boyfriend turn and scream delightfully into his own shoulder. Of course, Steve had taken his advantage, dialing it up with the Harrington charm just to make Eddie’s face redder. Whenever he thought that was too much, Eddie turned back around and kissed him with stupid smiles on both of their faces.

For a while, Steve had thought he finally found the perfect partner.

But he forgets that he doesn’t know how to shut his heart down.

—

Steve casually leans against the living room wall, acting totally non-suspicious as hides from view of the front door. He hears it swing open and then Eddie coming inside, the metallic clicking of his crane accompanying his steps. Steve waits just a bit longer until Eddie makes his way to the kitchen. Then he hurries around the corner and giddily wraps his arms around Eddie’s torso, lifting the man up.

“Welcome back-” Steve starts, a petname ready to fall out as he’s ready to bemoan his loneliness. But Eddie’s cold tone makes his jaws instantly clamp shut.

“Put me down.”

Steve obeys, swiftly but carefully as not to agitate Eddie’s leg. He keeps his arms around his boyfriend, squeezing just once in what he hopes comes off as assuring. However, Eddie only stiffens and says in the same cold tone-

“Let me go.”

Steve does. Eddie continues on towards the kitchen, not even glancing over once. Anxiety starts to drill into Steve’s spine, already making its way into the lining of his stomach. Something clearly happened to Eddie that’s putting him in a foul mood.

Tailing after him, Steve finally finds his voice and asks, “Is everything okay?”

Eddie doesn’t respond. He plops down onto a chair, burying his face in his hands. His shoulders are starting to shake. The anxiety shifts into concern as Steve hurries over to his side. “Eds-”

Eddie suddenly slams his hands onto the table, startling Steve back. He whips his head around to glare at Steve, yelling, “Is it too much to leave me alone for one minute?!”

Too much.

Steve swallows the thick lump in his throat, mumbles something he hopes is an apology, and stumbles outside to the backyard. He stares at the pool for a second before he quickly rounds to the side of his house, stopping just along the walls where he always felt the sunlight wouldn’t reach. Steve slowly crouches down to the ground, staring at nothing in particular despite the burning pressure behind his eyes and heart.

He should’ve seen this coming. Actually, he had known the day when Eddie finally had enough of his unbearable actions was approaching soon. They’ve been together for nearly a year. Just as long as Steve had with Nancy before that Halloween party. But Steve’s been living in blissful ignorance, hoping that it wouldn’t happen.

But even that had been too much.

A wet laugh bubbles out of his lips and Steve quickly clamps a hand over it. He feels like a kid, hiding behind his house like he’s avoiding his father instead of Eddie. It’s so stupid but very on-brand.

He lets the tears drop, forcing his hand to remain on his mouth so he can stay quiet. He doesn’t want to upset Eddie anymore.

Crunching stones under shoes approach. Steve doesn’t even look up when he hears a sucking of breath and Eddie’s murmuring voice, “Shit, Stevie.”

Calloused, ringed hands gently cup both sides of his face. Steve barely catches himself from sinking into the grasp. It’s always too easy to enjoy the feeling of Eddie’s hands on his cheeks. Was it too much for Eddie as well?

“Stevie, please look at me.”

Despite his brain screaming at him no, Steve does so. Eddie’s eyes are bloodshot red and tracks of tears practically shine on his face. In another scenario, he would look as beautiful as ever. But instead, he looks like shit.

Eddie’s fingers tap on his hand, the one still clamping over his mouth. Steve shakes his head quickly. He doesn’t want to break down into a sobbing mess and demand Eddie’s comfort.

“I’m sorry.” Eddie rasps out, a line of spittle popping out of his mouth. His voice sounds rough like he had just cried. “I’m so sorry, Steve, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Work was-” He closes his eyes, shudders out another breath, and opens them again. “What happened at work wasn’t an excuse and never should be. Even if I was exhausted and upset, I shouldn’t have lashed out. I wish I could take those words back, baby.”

Steve finally removes his hand, managing to speak coherent words just before the sobbing finally breaks out. “Am I too much though?”

He catches the horrified expression before Eddie suddenly pulls him forward into a tight embrace.

“You’re never too much, sweetheart. You’re just fucking perfect.” Eddie whispers into Steve’s ear, clear as day.

Steve doesn’t know how they spend kneeling on the ground as his entire body rattles out from crying while Eddie keeps holding him and occasionally gently shushing Steve. Eventually, Steve’s eyes dry out and he feels so tired that he just wants to tuck himself into bed and sleep.

Eddie helps him up and guides him back inside the house. They linger at the foot of the stairs, both of them realizing the same thing.

“Do you… want me to sleep with you still?” Eddie asks softly. He hasn’t let his hand go from Steve’s where it occasionally squeezes around his fingers. It fixes something in Steve’s heart but it’s barely enough to soothe the ache over.

“I-” Steve cuts himself off. Eddie looks at him earnestly, his brown eyes appearing to grow bigger with the still-there shining tears. Steve sighs and continues, “I think I want.. space. Just for tonight.”

Eddie nods, pursing his lips. “So do I. I think that’ll be good for tonight.”

“You won’t leave?” It hurts Steve to ask even though his gut is certain that Eddie will rather chew his hand off than leave.

“I’ll still be here.” Eddie raises a hand up with a small smile. “Especially in the morning when we’re rested and less pissed-off.”

Steve smiles back, “Okay.”

And when the morning does come, Eddie’s still here. When they talk and apologize, Eddie tells Steve again that he never thought of Steve as an unbearable boyfriend.

It makes Steve feel warm from the overflow of Eddie’s love.

[ateliersss]

Don't worry, only You and Him

Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: Waking up from the week of bed rest after giving birth, you hadn't expected how your eldest seemed to resent the newest addition to your family. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 2.782 After the Blooming Family series

⇨ I'm back with family drama but also family fluff between mom and her favorite boys. Also, how come Yautja pups are so freaking adorable?! Oh, and these too. Comments are always appreciated.

The happy squeals of an infant pup filled the otherwise peaceful and quiet space of the clan leader’s abode.

Little Toyah was a lively little pup for being only four weeks old. Currently, he was lying on his back on the nest of his parents, his small arms flailing and his short legs kicking as high-pitched babblings left his mouth. His upper body was resting against the calves of your crossed legs. His eyes were wholly focused on you leaning over him, cooing at him while your fingers tickled his sides.

It was one of the rare moments where you weren’t suffocated by your mate who was constantly glued to your side, desperate to be as close to you as possible, and your eldest boy who was shadowing your every move, ensuring you didn’t strain yourself. You knew they meant no harm, but it got overwhelming after some time when you just wanted to leave the nest to get something to eat, or take your pup outside for a short walk in the village, and two looming figures would follow you around.

Especially Akail had a hard time leaving you alone. From what Mi’ytiar had told you, he had been restless in those six days you had been unconscious and even became hostile towards his younger brother. Your heart broke when your mate admitted that he had to physically fight his son off after he tried to forcefully get into your shared bedroom where you were healing and little Toyah was sleeping. Mi’ytiar didn’t need to tell you that it wasn’t an attempt to see you.

You couldn't have imagined how much your near-death experience had affected him. He had been so excited to meet his little mei'hswei, but now all he saw was a parasite that had almost taken his beloved mother away from him.

“It almost killed you!” He had yelled at you in rage when you had tried to confront him about his strange behavior towards Toyah.

His father hadn’t taken kindly in him talking in that tone to you, his large body towering behind yours with crossed arms as he stared murderously at his son. No one was allowed to raise their voice against you, especially your child who had to always respect and cherish you.

The conversation grew heated with every second and Akail had made the mistake of adopting an aggressive posture towards you. Well, not you, but your stubborn incapability of understanding his feelings towards what had almost cost your life. It had set Mi’ytiar off in the worst way possible and both had fought like wild animals until they both halted when your screams finally reached their ears.

In their scramble in the main room of your home, they hadn’t only destroyed most furniture like the long table occupying the middle or had torn down Mi’ytiar’s display of various skulls and other trophies. They had also knocked you over when you had foolishly tried to get between them. You were hysterically crying, emotions all over the place, your trembling body cowering on the ground, both hands pressed to your mouth.

Your mate was by your side in a second and carefully cradled your face. He pulled you towards him, your forehead pressed against his, and filled the air with his reassuring purrs. You choked on your tears and tried your hardest to force them back. You knew how much your negative emotions could affect him. It never ended well with the one that caused them.

“Please don’t kill him.” You pleadingly whispered before you felt him pull away from you.

He had found it very difficult to comply with your request when he banished his son from your home, threatening him to not show his face anywhere near his mate and pup before he had taken you to your nest to calm you from your breakdown.

That was a week ago and you hadn’t seen or heard from Akail ever since. Worry was eating you alive. Not necessarily because he had probably left the planet, but the possibility of him going on a hunt to let off steam. There was a reason you had taught him patience and restraint. One would make the most terrible, most irrational decisions when they were blinded by rage and would be too focused on that one thing causing that emotion than anything else. You had sent Mi’ytiar after him, but even he couldn’t track down his son.

Now, all you could do was wait and hope he would come home.

While a part of you was with your eldest, wherever he was, the other part was occupied with your youngest.

“Who is my pretty little boy? Who is my lovely little boy? Hm? Who is it?” You asked in a high-pitched voice, lifted your pup up above your head, and beamed up at him when he happily squealed. “It’s you!” You pulled him against your chest and smothered his little face with kisses. “So handsome. Yes you are, yes you are! My perfect baby boy.”

Placing him in the crook of your arm, you lovingly looked down at him when he snatched your finger and chewed on it to his heart’s content. It was something he did quite often whenever one was near his mouth. He must have started teething. At least that was what you thought when you felt the tiny bumps in his gums. Even his mandibles had developed in the month since he was born as they were clamping down and around your finger.

“Beautiful like your daddy.” You murmured against his forehead, a smile forming on your lips when Toyah responded with a shrill clicking noise. “And so, so sweet like your mei'hswei.”

Your attention was solely on your pup. That way you didn’t register the sound of the door to your and Mi’ytiar’s bedroom open and how someone slowly made their way over to you. Only when something large crawled on your nest over to you, did you put on a knowing grin. You really couldn’t spend five minutes alone with your pup, could you?

“My love, stop it. Are you needy for attention again?” You started when you felt something bump against your shoulder and upper arm.

But when you turned your head, it wasn’t Mi’ytiar’s forehead that was nudging you.

“O-Oh God.” You breathed out in a shaky exhale. “Akail.”

A voice in the back of your head reminded you that you were still holding your pup in your hands when your fingers twitched and your arms jerked, the need to wrap them around him completely filling your mind. You quickly but gingerly placed Toyah on one of the fluffy blankets you used to tuck yourself in at night before you pulled Akail in a hug and buried your face in the side of his head. You couldn’t hold back the tears of relief as you peppered the skin in reach with kisses.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where have you been?” You bombarded him with questions the second you cupped his face to pull it in front of yours to inspect every centimeter of it.

“’m sorry, Mama.” was his rumbling reply and he nuzzled into your palm.

Your heart broke right then and there.

“Oh, baby…” You whispered, your voice cracking when you saw the sorrow in his eyes. “It’s okay. Everything is fine.”

“Hurt you.” He pressed on in a low whine.

“No, it’s alright. You didn’t hurt me. It was an accident, simply an accident. I shouldn’t have gone between you and your father.” You hurried to reassure him.

Akail let out a huff and glanced over to Toyah whose eyes hadn’t strayed away from you from the moment he had to leave your arms against his will. You followed his line of sight and started stroking his cheek with your thumb.

“It wasn’t his fault, my little warrior.” You began, hoping you could finally discourse the aggressive aversion he had towards his brother. “He had no control over the nature of life. My body was set on birthing him while he wasn’t fully ready. I already suspected it when my water broke. I had premature labor pains for a week when I was carrying you, but with Toyah, it only had been two days. You had enough time to turn, he didn’t.”

As a response, Akail clicked his mandibles in resignation and you knew this wasn’t going to be as easy as you had hoped. You had thought he would have had a change of mind when he disappeared, but apparently not.

You put on a brave smile and reached over to your pup, lifted him up in your arms, and placed him down in your lap, his tiny hands closing around each of your pointer fingers for balance as he stared up at his brother.

“Don’t you want to meet your little mei'hswei?” You asked optimistically as you loosened one of Toyah’s fingers from yours to reach out for Akail.

The narrowed eyes of your eldest strayed from the tiny parasite in his mother’s lap to your hand and without hesitation let you grab his hand. You cautiously pulled his hand down to Toyah, careful as if he would snatch it back any moment, but when he didn’t, your tense posture relaxed a little.

You looked down at the top of Toyah’s head who was fully fixed on his brother now. “Look, Toyah, look who is here.”

You let go of Akail’s hand, delight filling you when his hand inched closer on their own accord, and when he was finally within reach, Toyah’s small fingers instantly wrapped around the finger that was closest to him. You watched how your eldest tensed up and lowly growled at him, yet the little one was hardly impressed by it and instead started chirping.

However, you weren’t as indifferent as your pup and pinned him down with a warning glare.

“Akail.” You hissed through gritted teeth, not wanting to agitate the baby. “He is no threat.”

If he were a dog, he would have tucked his tail between his legs and pressed his ears to his head. Instead, another low whine sounded from the back of his throat for being scolded and he kept his hand in the grip of his younger brother in resignation. For someone who was pretty much a young adult, he still behaved like a little boy when he was around you.

“Do you think your father would tolerate him if he thought of him as one?” You inquired, already knowing the answer as Mi’ytiar was far more aggressive in his protectiveness towards you than Akail. “Your father delivered your brother without knowing if I would survive it or not. He did it because he knew it was my body that caused the inability of a natural birth.”

You hesitated a little with your next words, not knowing if it would help the situation, but it wouldn’t hurt.

“Your birth wasn’t easy as well. It took us hours; me, your father and Cahrein. You may have been in the right position, but it hurt so much that I thought you would claw your way through my stomach if it took any longer. I couldn’t talk, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. I was slowly giving up and blacking out one too many times.” You paused to watch Akail wince in shame, his body shrinking a little into itself. “But just as your father helped me with your little brother, he helped me make your birth possible and much easier. And he doesn’t love you any less because he knows it was neither your or Toyah’s fault.”

Toyah, who was completely oblivious about the exchange, had released the grip he still had on your other finger and was now clutching another finger of Akail’s hand. He was babbling, his mandibles making a high-pitched clicking noise, before he chomped down on his finger knuckles. Akail straightened his back and his head snapped down before he stared at you with a glare that said “See! A little demon!”, but you only needed to give him that look and any of his protests instantly evaporated.

You softened your scowl and gazed lovingly at Toyah when his hands were moving up to his brother’s wrist, then his forearm, like he was trying to pull himself up. You looked between your boys back and forth, observing the reaction of your eldest and the attempts to climb up his brother’s arm of your youngest. When Toyah seemed to slip sideways from his arm, you gasped and immediately reached out to catch him, but Akail was faster. As he kept his occupied arm taut, the other one moved at once to place his hand under Toyah’s bum.

For a second, you were frozen with your hands still outstretched and only when a low purring reached your ears, you retracted them, one hand gripping the other, and pressed them to your mouth to hide a smile. Akail was actually purring when Toyah was settling on his biceps, seemingly content in his new position.

“You know, he is much smaller than you were at his age.” You casually said, having to bite the inside of your cheek to keep you from squealing at the adorable sight in front of you.

Akail rumbled and you could practically see the satisfaction in his eyes at your words as he watched the pup settle where he was clinging on his arm. Even as a child, stroking his ego had always been a great way to keep him in a good mood. It seemed to work very well now, too, when the thumb of the hand that was still supporting Toyah’s bottom started to caress his back.

“Were you small like this?” Akail asked you after a while of petting his brother which had lulled him to sleep.

“Yeah, probably.” You hummed and moved to sit cross-legged across from him. “You remember what Mama told you about her job on Earth?”

Akail nodded. “Healer. Like Cahrein.”

You laughed and absentmindedly took his hand in yours, carefully to not disturb the sleeping pup. “Yes, like Cahrein. I held so many babies in my arms, I lost count. They were of all kinds of sizes, depending on how their mothers took care of themselves during their pregnancy. Seems like your father had spoiled me a little too much when you were still in my belly.” You giggled.

“Your other pups too?” He then asked, his eyes dulling a little.

“Mine?” You raised your eyebrows in confusion.

“Ooman.”

When it dawned on you what he meant, you softly cooed.

Was he actually thinking that you had…?

Your heart almost bursted with overwhelming emotion as you looked at him. The face of a Yautja wasn’t as capable of expressing emotion as a human. Rather they used their voice and body language to articulate their mood. Akail, however, was still able to look like an insecure bundle of nerves at the worrying possibility that you had another, different family on your home planet. Maybe it was his human part that made it so easy to read him like a book.

 “Oh, Akail. The only babies I have are you and your little brother.” You were quick to dissolve his distress and scooted over to him until you were sitting right beside him, your hand cupping his jaw. “I never wanted pups with a human, my sweetling. I never thought of having one because I believed they wouldn’t fit into my life. I never felt the desire to mate with a man that would ensure pups. Not that I ever wanted any with them.”

Immediately, Akail felt at ease at your words and even pulled Toyah closer to him — although you believed it happened rather from his subconscious — like it was a reassuring epiphany that it was only them and no one else connected to you in this way.

“But your Papa…” You sighed with a bright smile when a powerful rush of euphoria cursed through your body at the mere thought of your Mi’ytiar. “Your Papa is the only being in the whole universe that made the idea of not having pups with him unbearable. I wanted to be connected with him in every way possible and the last thing that was missing was being the mother of his pups.” Your hand reached up to his dreads, running your fingers through them when you pulled your hand down. “You and your brother are all I could ask for and I’m so incredibly happy to be your mother. So don’t worry, my little warrior, you only have to share me with Toyah. And your father, of course.”

Masterlist: here

Tag List

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[mecub]

It is past 1am and I am thinking about @somerandomdudelmao’s Marble Sky, and this lightly bonked my writers block on the head for long enough that I wrote a little thing.

The world is green. Green, bleeding from the lights and from his insides and from the space where—

—

Ward wakes up shaking, crumpled on the floor like an old paper someone couldn’t be bothered to throw away. 

The world. Is green. Green and pretty, green with plants and vines, but for a moment something inside of him screams like something’s clamped over his mouth and his blood is burning and—

But it’s not green like that. Here, the green isn’t the immediate threat. The threat is one of them, bigger than him and probably put there to make sure he doesn’t try to escape.

“Oh. You aren’t dead,” the alien says.

That’s… not reassuring. But also not the threat he’d been expecting?

“Are you by any chance one of the talking ones?”

Something is wrong. Everything is blurry, and when he goes to rub his eyes, he finds gauze and okay, that. That is going to be a problem for later. Once he’s safe. Once he can let panic overwhelm him without the lack of attention putting him at risk of—

“I am,” he says.

“Cool. So they found another civilization to destroy. Hungry?”

Them. Like this alien, this alien who looks so much like them, doesn’t trust them. 

It’s ridiculous, but at this point? Ward just wishes he could’ve just been thrown in a normal prison cell. Just one normal, reasonable thing that made sense would’ve been nice. And yet, he’s sitting in vegetable prison with someone who might be an ally but is also probably very much not anyone Ward can trust. How does someone even end up in vegetable prison?

“What’s with all these greens?” he asks, because he can’t just demand answers. “Are you in jail for being the only vegetarian here or something?”

Good ole sarcasm. A great way to be eaten by aliens! Hey, maybe they consider humans a vegetable.

“You’re radiating negative energy at me.”

No shit. “Wanna guess why?”

“Hey, I’m not with those— Wait!”

Uh oh.

“You said greens! You know what color is?”

Um?

“You must have eyes!” And then the alien moves towards him, without a second thought, like they know anything he does, running away or fighting or yelling for help, won’t do anything. Ward flinches away from their outstretched hand. 

(An outstretched hand, moving towards his neck, slicing him open like the specimen he was. An outstretched hand, with his blood on it, and he couldn’t move couldn’t fight it couldn’t—)

“Yes. So?” he snaps.

“Can I touch you?”

“Wh— No.” No.

“Please,” the alien says, “I won’t hurt you. I swear.”

Ward… could try saying no again. He could try to move away, try to talk about this, try to save himself from whatever’s going to happen. He wants to, he really wants to.

But. Sculptor didn’t listen, didn’t care, he just cut into him with a smile. And this one is larger than him, and they said they wouldn’t hurt him, they swore it, they asked for a favor, they look desperate, so maybe, maybe he’ll be safe. Maybe this will keep the alien from dropping whatever this act of an ally is.

The world is green, and Ward reaches out a hand and says, “Here. Happy?”

And the alien reaches out a hand and— 

And lightly touches his. Gently. 

—

The world is green. And in the middle of it is someone who looks a lot like him.

[twola]

Cartography

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

You bite your bottom lip to stop the moan bubbling from your chest out into the room - with the broken windows and rotting walls of the old plantation house, there was little doubt of noise carrying. You shudder at the stimulation occurring in your core, stretched delightfully around several inches of hot, hard flesh.

Arthur grunts in appreciation of your tightening around him, “Look at you-” he half whispers in the bright light pouring in from Lemoyne outside.

The quiet of the morning is serene, interspersed by the lazy chirping of birds outside - but within the room, it’s heralded by deep breaths and choked-off moans, the wet slapping of skin on skin.

You arch your back, pressing down on your forearms on the table, sighing in bliss as it changes the angle of where your lover spears into your body ever so slightly. You’re rewarded by a groan and the tightening of his warm hands around your bare hips, the only part of your skin bared to the world.

It was supposed to be an early morning, and indeed, the two of you had gotten out of bed, dressed, ready to get on with the day. Until you leaned over the table on one elbow, scrutinizing the map of several states spread out on it. Evidently was far too much for Arthur, and before you knew it, he was upon you, nibbling at your earlobe as he worked your pants and bloomers down your thighs, pushing them down just enough to access your dampening cunt.

With one hand pressing against your core, the other worked at his own pants, fishing his cock out of his union suit and pressing the swollen head against you with a speed and necessity akin to breathing.

“Wer- ahh- weren’t we supposed to be goin’ somewhere?” You stutter as his hips bounce against yours, your forearms spread over the Kamassa valley, and your fingers draw into your palms to make fists just south of the Ambarino line.

“Later. ‘M fine right here.” Arthur puffs, continuing to thrust into you, his cock ramrod hard and covered in your wetness. He breathes out loudly from his nose, like a beast, and one of his hands creeps around your hip to pat at the little nub of your pleasure, fingers tangling in your dark pubic hair.

Your mouth hangs open, eyes wide as he continues to rock into you, the head of his cock pressing so deep into your body you swear you feel it in your guts.

Trying not to scream, your eyes flit to that old map spread beneath you, and your hands splayed out on the table again.

Your pinky brushes against the far north reaches of the Lanaheechee.

“A-Annesburg?” You groan out, the text of the town’s name underneath your wrist.

He grunts out in the negative, “Naw, too dirty - mmph, all that coal dust.”

“No Van Horn neither then-” You breathe out before gasping as he thrusts his hips into yours with a little more force.

“No Van Horn.”

You glance down again, knowing how much he hated the large city on the map hidden by your breasts - Saint Denis was out of the question.

“R-Rhodes,” underneath your elbow.

“Not after that shootout - oh darlin’-” Arthur grunts out, panting as he spreads his legs a little further to ground himself as he rocks into you.

The mountains past your pinky finger, “Strawberry? Gonna, mmph, go to that fancy hotel finally?”

“Not this time-”

Closer to your wrist, “Not back to Val-”

He cuts you off with a punishing thrust, and you drop your question and can simply mewl in response.

Arthur grunts, folding himself over you completely, smothering you against the table, framing his forearms on either side of yours, his breath in your ear as his thrusting slows into a full, slow rocking, the table squealing underneath the movement of your bodies.

“H-here,” he taps empty space north of Wallace Station with his forefinger. 

“Wha- oh god - what’s there?” You whine as he presses completely into you, his hips pressing hard into yours, pinning you to the table completely.

“A cabin ‘m gonna lock us in for the next week.” He grunts out beneath gritted teeth, and you moan at the thought, loudly before his other hand moves to your chin and tilts it to the side to give himself access to shove his lips against yours.

His hips stop their languid rolling, and a grunt charges up from his chest into your mouth as his cock spurts his release into you, the warmth blooming in your cunt sending you over the edge, clenching around him, making him gasp as your body milks his for all he’s worth.

You shudder, taken by your orgasm and the feeling of him buried so deep inside you, stretching you to the dual threshold of pain and pleasure.  The room’s spinning slows as you and he both catch your breath.

Arthur hisses as he pulls out, and you wince slightly at the dribble of him that starts to trek down your thighs before he yanks his neckerchief off and presses it against your cunt, stymying the flow of his spend from between your legs.

As you catch your breath and lean back up on your forearms, you glance down at the map where he said the two of you were going. 

“That really what we’re doin’?”

Arthur pats the fabric against the rim of your cunt again, blotting against your wet skin. Tossing the dirtied fabric to the floor, he leans over you again, pressing his lips against your temple as his arms frame yours once again.

“Reckon we can take the scenic route there too.”

[helsensm]

Your glowy white haired raiden is making me go CRAZY!!!! Wondering if you have any opinions on glowy tattoos for raiden perhaps?

xmas and new year time was a proper CHAOS, finally getting back to my inbox, hi everyone

Raiden when we are slapping every glowing feature on him:

I love cool (especially glowing!) tats as much as the next person, but I think that would be overkill, lets leave that thing for Liu Kang ahaHJj

WITH THAT BEING SAID- 👀 I’m screaming over Raiden’s tattoo skins! He personally did not strike me as a tattoo guy, but I applaud his dedication, my man heard that everyone is getting inked for new skins and chose tHE SICKEST FUCKING BLACKWORK IN MK1??/ SIR?? 😳🖤 so if I must vote for glowing tattoos for Raiden, I’m voting for glowing negative spaces on this bad boy, light these little lightnings/scars baby!

screenshot by noqtcrnal from pinterest

thank you sm for your ask and your patience :3 💕

[meet-you-at-the-north-star]

Let Me In

Eric Northman x human! Reader

Summary: inspired by scenes from ep. 3x02 & 3x03 as well as a couple other plot points in the show (but plot is quite vague anyway)

Word count: 1517

“You’re going to invite me in” he stated, slowly, in that gentle purr his voice always sounded to my ears.

I took a step back, partially to hide the jolt that went through my body at those words. “And why would I do that?”

I wondered if he could sense the change in pace of my palpitations. They were yet to invent a way to disguise that from a vampire's super hearing.

“So I can protect you” He took a step forward. Then another, equally measured. “Or have passionate primal sex with you”.

When my hands touched the wood of the door behind me he stopped, slightly tilting his head: “Possibly both”

I gulped. I didn’t even realize that I had been backing away.

“You’re not gonna distract me by talking nasty” I said, perfectly aware that I was the one trying to distract him from the effect he was having on me.

He smirked, leaning down and invading even more of my personal space. “I already have”.

“So…are you going to invite me in?”

“That’s not how it works” I scolded him, a warning look on my face.

“Pity” He leaned back. “As soon as you let me know what the rules are, I’ll be more than happy to play along”

I stared at him for a moment, different streams of thoughts racing through my brain. “Do you really think something might happen to me tonight?”

“There’s a good chance it might. Tonight, the night after that, it doesn’t make much of a difference. I’d rather be safe than sorry” He cut short.

“Alright. I am going to invite you in…” I began, placing my hand on his chest to stop him from taking another step forward. “If you promise not to cross this threshold and to leave me alone the minute I do.”

“Well, that’s no fun”

“Eric.”

He nodded. “I promise. If that’s what you want”

“It is” I lied, but he didn’t need to know that. “You will be able to sense it if I’m in some kind of trouble, right?”

“Correct.”

“Good. Then you’re officially invited to come inside, Eric Northman…if I should need your help” I specified in an eloquent tone.

“Thank you.” His hand reached out to move a strand of hair behind my ear, with a tenderness that was as unexpected as disarming coming from someone like him.

I struggled to fight back the instinct to immediately take back everything I had just said, but I couldn't help but at least smile at him.

He smiled back at me and pulled his hand away. “Goodnight, Y/N”


A moment later he had literally vanished into thin air.

I closed the door behind me with a sigh, my heart now beating wildly. Sleeping was going to be no easy feat after all that.

I tried to prepare myself calmly, retracing all the steps of my usual nighttime routine in order to banish any kind of thoughts from my mind, both the positive and the negative.

When I finally got into bed, however, it was impossible to avoid those piercing blue eyes and features so beautiful they didn't seem real, which had so often populated my recent dreams.

Even though he had cheated by giving me his blood, a part of me couldn't help but think I would have dreamed of him regardless. After all, my daydreams were much the same way.

Eric’s eyes were my last conscious thought, then only darkness. And the sound of steps. Some kind of creature was approaching me. I could hear its menacing growl clearly now. I started running as fast as I could, but it seemed like the noise was only getting louder and more frightening. I turned a dark corner and my heart dropped realizing there was no way out of it. It was a dead-end. Then all of a sudden the floor opened up under my feet and I fell into an endless dark pit.

I let out a scream so loud I must have woken myself up. I felt cold arms holding me and instinctively fought to free myself from their grip, still screaming. Did the creature that was following me finally catch me?

“Hey” Two hands were cradling my face in an instant, gently. “it’s okay, it’s me, you’re alright”

I blinked once, twice and finally the fog clouding my brain started to dissipate as I found myself back in my room, staring into those blue eyes again. But this time I was only not seeing them with my mind. Usually impenetrable, they now betrayed concern as they studied my expression intently.

“What are you doing here?” I managed to utter in the end.

He looked a little uncomfortable, as if he was afraid I might be mad at him. “I sensed your fear”

It finally hit me: the chase, the panic I felt, it was all a dream. But he couldn’t tell the difference and thought I was actually in danger. I felt a blush quickly rising to color my cheeks and I rested my head against his chest to hide my embarrassment. “Oh my god, it was a stupid nightmare”

His arms slid up and down my back, holding me close in a protective grip. “It’s definitely quite a relief”

“I’m sorry you had to come all the way here for that”

“I’m not” he said, a half-smirk curving his lips.

“Eric” I leaned back and looked up at his face, trying to recover some sense of distance between us, but we were too close this time. And there was no invisible magical barrier I could cross.

He understood what I needed, slightly loosening the grip of his arms to allow me freedom of movement, but his eyes remained locked in mine. “Do you want me to go?”

I opened my mouth to respond but not a word came out. I ran a hand through my hair nervously, eyes darting everywhere until his hand came up to gently cup my chin, forcing me to bring my attention back to him.

My eyes dropped to his lips. They looked even redder in contrast to his unnaturally pale skin.

He didn’t move, waiting, while my brain performed somersaults to find any valid excuse why I shouldn’t let this happen.

It couldn’t.

I had about half a second to be surprised at my own impetuousness as I crashed my lips against his, then my mind went blank.

My hands quickly travelled up his neck and tangled in his hair, pulling him to me as our mouths explored each other, greedy and eager.

I felt the blood rushing through my veins and speeding up my heartbeat until it was a loud pounding in my ears. I should have been frightened by how vulnerable that probably made me in his presence, but I wasn’t.

I wasn’t afraid of him or this in the slightest, everything about it felt too right. The feeling of his arms surrounding me again in secure hold, his hands gripping my shoulders and then cradling my face, his lips hungry, relentlessly pressing on mine in a silent request for access.

My mouth parted with a sigh, allowing his tongue to slip inside, deepening the kiss. Our bodies were flush against one another and in the blink of an eye he’d pulled me onto his lap and my hands moved to his shoulders to regain my balance, lips still locked together in a restless dance.

“Hey!” I jokingly protested, finally parting for air after what felt like a two-hour apnea. “Some of us here still need to breathe”

“Mmm, you know that’s something I can easily remedy” He grinned, lips teasingly trailing up my neck and leaving nothing but small kisses behind.

“Don’t even think about that”

“What a shame” His eyes found mine again, thumb lightly stroking my cheek. “You’d make a stunning vampire”

I simply smiled at that, leaning down to capture his lips again. The kiss was slower this time, less frantic; but languid, our lips slowly taking their time to savor each other.

I felt him grin into the kiss as my hands moved in the small space between our bodies and started unbuttoning his shirt.

“Wait a minute” I abruptly stopped and shot him a worried look. “You can’t stay here”

He raised both eyebrows in disbelief. “You cannot be serious right now”

“No, I mean…what about the sun?”

He burst into a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Good thing you people have invented blinds”

“True, guess humans aren’t all that bad, uh? ” I smirked.

“They have their moments” He conceded, looking at me.“But you do realize” he began, tone dropping suggestively, “that means I’m going to be stuck in this room for the entire day, right?”

I bit my bottom lip and shamelessly let my eyes wander over his messy hair and the half-unbottoned shirt on his chest, drinking it all in: he was one to talk about “stunning”. Then I brought my lips close to his ear: “I’m sure I can think of a way to keep you occupied”

[blitzwhore]

I just saw Blitzø get called Stolas stockholm victim I can't with this fandom anymore😭

😂 As outrageously incorrect and stupid as that take is, I'm going to go on a tangent here. I hope you don't mind.

I think every fandom has annoying people with awfully terrible takes in it. People with zero media literacy. People who hatewatch. People who think they're entitled to the exact show they would've wanted, which has nothing to do with the actual, existing show.

This is especially true for queer media, and especially true for queer cartoons. (Hi, yes. I was active in the Adventure Time, Steven Universe, Voltron, and She-Ra fandoms when those shows were airing, respectively. I've seen some stuff). Some people just can't handle queer cartoons, period. If the queer characters/ships are soft and wholesome, they're infantilising and boring, and if they're complex and nuanced and actually have conflict, they're abusive and problematic. You'll hear the same recycled arguments over and over again. Like, the shit some people are saying about Blitz and Stolas after The Full Moon? Is literally almost word-for-word what they said about Catra and Adora post-season 3 of She-Ra (and even at the end of the show).

Here's the thing, though! Those people and their bad takes are not what I want to think about what I think about a fandom. Those aren't the people I want to call the fans. They don't deserve that title. Not when so many other people are out there dedicating their time to making gifs and art and meta posts, and writing fic, and commenting/reblogging to show support, and sliding into people's DMs to scream and squee together about a thing they love.

At the end of the day, "fandom" is just a lot of people each doing their own thing. Which people you engage with and allow to stay within your line of sight will determine your fandom experience. Fandom can be a huge, convoluted, online space full of people who are constantly arguing with one another and whose takes make you unfathomably angry... Or it can be you and your 5 friends and mutuals who scream gleefully at one another in 2-note posts. You can't control what others post online, but you can control your engagement with it.

How? Well, here's what I personally do to avoid getting upset by people's stupid opinions online:

Filter 'critical' and 'anti' tags (eg. #anti stolitz #anti vivziepop #Helluva Boss critical #HB critical #vivziepop critical). Many people actually do tag their critical posts because they know it's the respectful thing to do!

If I come across a post that has one or more of those tags, obviously, I don't click through to see it under any circumstances.

If I stumble across a stranger's untagged post with hate/criticism that upsets me: I stop reading and BLOCK. Immediately. I don't look back. I don't finish reading. I don't engage. I just block block block. I <3 the block button, seriously.

If I feel my mind reeling from a bad take I just came across: I take a step back, close my phone, breathe, remember life is beautiful sometimes. Go back and watch an episode I really like. Clean my living space a little. Vent about it to a friend (but only if I really need to, because if not, I'd rather not dwell on it).

If I'm starting to feel the need to reply to someone's bad take (directly or via my own post), I instead make the decision to channel that energy into making fandom posts out of love. (I don't do this just with fandom. If I see something transphobic online, I usually react by reblogging a bunch of trans art or trans positivity posts on my main, for example). I like to think of it as putting some positivity out into the world to compensate for the negativity I just saw. So, for example, if I see someone shitting on my blorbo, I may make a silly post just saying how much I love blorbo. Or I'll make (or draft) a post about how interesting I find some of blorbo's actions. Or reblog another person's positive/interesting post about blorbo.

And finally, I stay the hell away from Twitter. Or at least, if I go on Twitter, I try my best to avoid any tweet that has text in it instead of just art. Even the people who have good opinions spend too much time arguing with the people who have bad opinions on there. I don't want to see people's bad takes! No, not even while reading founded and perfectly articulated criticism of those bad takes! So I just limit my time on Twitter. And again, if someone is putting bad takes on my TL (even if it is to counter them), I unfollow and block as needed.

All this to say, yes, it really fucking sucks to read the opinions of people who don't understand and who hate the characters and ships and worlds you love. Gosh it's the worst. But you can curate your fandom experience. You can focus on the things you can control. You have the power to decide if your fandom experience is draining or fun!

And because I don't know how to finish this, here, have a Stolitz kiss to heal you:

We will keep winning and there's nothing the haters can do about it. 😌

[icycoldninja]

Angsty Astarion headcannons

A/N: Ok, so way back in December of '23, I went through a short Astarion phase because I never went through a Twilight phase as a teen, and during the heat of said phase, I wrote this, and since I'm quite proud of how it turned out, I've decided to post it--but this is a one time only thing, it doesn't mean I write for Astarion or any BG3 characters, at least, not anymore.

Tw: Dark, dark, angsty themes that might make ya cry, proceed with caution.

-Severely claustrophobic and nyctophobic as a result of the underground confinement Cazador had sentenced him to.

-Refuses to go into tiny spaces; his bedroll must be spread out wide like a mat, and his tent must be roomy and airy.

-Sleeps/Meditates/whatever with candles lit. (with a nightlight in a modern AU)

-If the power goes out/wind blows his candles out and he can't light new ones for whatever reason, he will panic. Unless he can go outside and relish in the light of the fire or celestial bodies, or unless you have a flashlight, he will curl up into a little ball and cry softly until either the situation blows over or if you come to help him.

-Despite how much he loves you, there is a tiny part of him that is still afraid you will use him for his body and leave him to die, used up and dry.

-Trust is hard to build with him because of all that's happened, but stay persistent and he'll let his walls down.

-Has night terrors almost every night but is too scared to go to you (or anyone) for help for fear of being found and kidnapped by Cazador somehow--the only exception being very terrifying nightmares that have him screaming.

-Touch starved beyond comprehension.

-Desperately needs someone to hold him at night, or just to hold him in general. It doesn't matter how long, if someone would just give him a hug, it'd make his day.

-Sometimes he worries that you'll leave him because of his heavy emotional baggage.

-Gets crazy jealous and will turn into a bat to spy on you if he suspects anything.

-As time progresses, his negativity and jealousy starts to build up and soon expresses itself through violence. If you two don't do something about it, he could end up hurting you.

-He'd never kill you, but rage clouds the mind. Astarion could hurt you pretty badly, especially with that knife of his, and if he ever did so for whatever reason, he would regret it for the rest of his life.

-Puts on a brave, flirty, sassy face in public, but cries a lot in private. Like a lot.

-Does his best to cry as quietly as he can; an old habit from his time with Cazador. He bites a pillow or clamps his hand over his mouth to muffle the noise, careful to breathe through his nose and limit the noises he makes.

-All he really wants is someone to snuggle his fears away and just be there for him, however possible.

[lilacxquartz]

TO SAVE A BROKEN SOUL • suguru geto x cursed spirit fem!reader

ao3 • masterlist • mdni < previous chapter • next chapter >>

summary: after much too long in confinement without feeding, you go stir crazy and suguru gets a reminder of what you truly are.

trigger warnings: death, non-con, blood, feeding, violence

Chapter 4: Like Clay

‘Divine Intervention’ is what Suguru Geto called your role in the cult; on occasion, you would be called to demonstrate his capabilities of something that could closely resemble a god—or at least a person blessed—chosen, perhaps.

Although, something strange continued to stir within him, as though he was overcome with a slew of odd feelings that he quite didn’t like whenever he beckoned for something negative to occur.

Whenever he had to watch you feed.

After a while, Suguru made an internal decision to bring you out less and less, essentially confining you to the manipulated pocket in the bedroom instead. There would be times that he didn’t visit you, leaving you to hibernate for perhaps longer than he had intended to do so.

He was a busy man, after all. Why should he worry, if you were capable of being dormant?

Initially, Suguru tried to keep away from you to lessen whatever strange feeling was boiling away from within him, but even as he stayed away, that same sort of carnal hunger continued to stir all the same. He would be gone for days, only returning every once in a while to inspect your form as if almost by routine; treating your statued presence as something close to a shrine.

It wasn’t that you were truly dormant though.

You were hungry, actually.

Maybe even starved.

Oh, you maybe even wanted to consume him just as a means to punish him.

The next time he visited you would have mean almost a full week with no feeding and after such a long break, you couldn’t quite control yourself as well as before.

Lurching forward as soon as he crossed the barrier, you toppled him down with a feral strength that could have matched his own. He found himself quickly pinned down against the floor, trying to wrangle you off of him before you could do any significant damage.

As Suguru locked his own eyes with yours, he managed to contain your outburst, but only just.

Pulling back as he pushed his body away from the manipulated space, he took a deep breath before speaking, “What the hell was that?”

“I’m hungry,” you replied without even skipping a beat. Although, you quickly tried to compose yourself, adopting a more humane tone. Something about him saying that you were capable of mirroring humans stood out to you, leaving you wondering if you could use that to gain sympathy from him. “I usually go hunting in the woods… but I can’t do that right now.”

Nodding, he tried his best to understand you better. “What did you eat before?”

“Wild animals,” you replied.

“And because of ‘Divine Intervention’, I take it that I’ve given you a taste for humans now?” he considered.

You resigned with a deep exhale, almost cautious to admit it. “…Yes.”

Suguru hummed as he thought of a solution, momentarily dulling the manipulation before leading you outside. There was a sort of suburb not too far from the temple, where mostly non-sorcerers resided. He had a dark idea form in his mind as he commuted to it, knocking on the door to a random unsuspecting house.

When an old man answered, he walked you both inside and closed the door. He grimaced slightly, taking in the scent of the house, cursing internally to himself that he had forgotten his disinfectant.

“Go ahead,” he murmured towards you, watching as you twitched, fully understanding what he was implying.

The hunger didn’t wait to kick in that time as you soon lunged towards the man, hearing his pained screams and cries as you tore through his flesh. Your eyes rolled back with almost extract coursing through your bloodstream before the high finally wore off and you had a moment longer to process exactly what he had you do.

Feeling once again disgusted with yourself—as well as him—for enabling such a thing, you leaned against a wall while Suguru dropped the corpse of the man he was otherwise holding in place for you, the body making a dull thudding noise as it hit the floor.

Something new came into his mind, something uninvited that once again tormented him. But he was starting to realise that whenever he watched you feed on others, that he could almost feel something close to… jealousy?

The walk back to his chambers was in complete silence as you resigned to the adjacent en-suite he walked you back into, standing perfectly still and blank eyed as he blotted blood off of your skin.

“Stay still,” he murmured, his eyes determined and locked in with intense focus, keen to disinfect and clean off the areas that he was certain that you touched the man with.

Suguru unfortunately now understood his feelings a little better; it was a familiar feeling, to feel lust. To feel a crush, even.

But he never imagined that it would be with something quite like you.

~~~

Returning you into the pocket of space, he had already concluded earlier today that he didn’t want you to perform ‘Divine Intervention’ anymore. There was a reason to stop with that anyway, as thinning the herd too often meant that there would soon be no sheep left to follow.

“You don’t have to do it anymore,” he murmured, seeming certain of something, “divine intervention, I mean.”

“Are you letting me go?” you asked.

However he shook his head instead.

Some unease played into your senses next, leaving you feeling unsure. “Killing me…?”

He shook his head again, instead stepping forward into the pocket, walking you back up against the wall to stare at you up close, using his fingertips to trace over your skin—his touch almost soft—yet somehow taunting, as though carrying a threat behind it.

It felt dangerous to let him touch you like that.

He focused on your eyes next, trying to convince himself one last time that his feelings were merely diluted. If cursed spirits were the manifestations of human negativity, then how was it that you could exist as something in between?

You didn’t seem negative, but you also didn’t seem positive.

You simply just were.

With this thought, he took a step back and led you out of the space again, gently sitting you down onto the bed. As long as he willingly held onto you, then you could pass through the pocket as needed.

Looking over you, Suguru crouched down ever so slightly as he started to undress you. His eyes intently scanning your body as he at long last reunited with the sight of what drew him in initially. Unable to take his eyes off of your bare form—he couldn’t help but stare longingly at the cursed marks once again—them to tattooed lingerie on marbled flesh.

He followed the blotches of organic ink with his eyes before standing up again, not speaking a single word. He hovered over you as he quietly got himself undressed, seeming tense the entire time while doing so, not quite believing what he was about to do.

(And who—or even—what with.)

Although, something did manage to bother him once again.

“You’re not going to try and stop me?” he asked, barely anticipating your reaction.

“I don’t want to do this,” you admitted, “but that doesn’t make a difference to you, does it?”

Suguru narrowed his eyes as he hovered over you, gently pushing your back against the bed. “Then tell me you want me to stop.”

“Why?” you asked, confused as to what he really wanted from you.

“Just try to,” he almost pleaded with a strained whisper, desperate for you to appear if only the slightest bit human in his eyes. Or not to, so that he could justify what he was about to surrender to.

Remembering the importance of emotion for humans, you tried to do so.

“Please stop,” you said that time, taking on a concerned tone. “I don’t want to do this.”

“Tell me to stop again,” he murmured again, positioning the tip of his cock against your entrance, his hands pushing apart at your legs.

“Stop,” you repeated, “I really don’t want this—“

“—keep begging me,” he encouraged, almost, spitting over his tip to further lubricate his entry into your cunt. He gasped as he slipped himself inside, feeling your firm yet soft walls take him in.

“Y-you’re hurting me,” you continued to say, adding more desperation into your tone, giving into the humanity you didn’t know you had, “please.”

However, Suguru had no plans to stop from the beginning. None at all. He pushed himself into you, shuddering at just how tight you felt clenched around his shaft, relishing the pleasure he felt from you taking him in.

You felt so unreal to him, as if perfectly sculpted to fit him, as if you were made for him and him alone.

“Try to fight me off,” he grunted, rutting into your cunt at unforgiving pace, unable to physically part his flesh from yours. His eyes were wide and manic—his expression almost bordering feverish—desperately consumed by how much he could lose himself in you, mesmerised by your form. His fingers continued to press into you, marring prickled crescents from his nails into your skin like bruising clay; marking you with fingerprinted petals that stained your flesh.

You pushed at him, but the position he had you locked in felt compromising and you couldn’t do a single thing. His chest pressed against yours, trapping you beneath him—his body soon produced sweat that rolled against your form—beads of it rolling off of your body and staining the mattress instead. He pounded into you instead, his hands roaming around your body like a sabotaging sculptor daring to claim you as his own, his hands intent to remodel you as his.

Suguru then presented you with his forearm, pressing hit right against your lips as he positioned himself even more over you. His eyes trained on your teeth, feeling confused as to why you were resisting and not feeding on him.

“I can handle it,” he challenged, seeing the hunger that was now familiar to him forming in your eyes. A beautiful hint of yellow that swirled around in the void, like a star lost deep in space.

You however continued to resist, turning your nose away and fixating your gaze onto the ceiling instead. Despite what he was doing to you and how much he seemed to be enjoying it—it felt like a trap to accept.

Reworking his approach, he withdrew his arm slightly. “How much do you need to take when you feed?”

“Not a lot,” you curtly replied, still feeling some hunger leftover from before. Blood was something you savoured much more than flesh, but your instincts could seldom be controlled when you fed.

“You’re hungry right now,” he stated, momentarily anchoring down his arm to steady himself, pushing harder to impale you with his spearing cock. “I can tell that you are,” he added, making sure to press himself harder into you, “so feed off of me. I can take it.”

Suguru melted over you, positioning his forearm once again over your mouth in an almost submissive and surrendering display, finding that the second time that he did so, you couldn’t help but give in. He grunted as he seethed, feeling your teeth grind into his now bleeding flesh—his body tightened—his inner instincts recoiling, his emotions tense, yet as he watched you feed, his eyes couldn’t help but soften.

As though it was something that was freshly awoken, his movement against your sore cunt became rougher, harder, almost violent as his own pleasure quickly built to an almost dizzying state. It was a feeling that was beyond his own understanding, but as he finally tore his arm away from you—before you completely drained him—he couldn’t help but give into his clearly sick obsession.

With an almost breathless grunt, still pounding into you, his tone of voice became aggressively possessive, “I’ll be the one to satisfy your cravings from now on, just as you’ll satisfy mine,” he panted, his expression momentarily grimacing at the bite marks. Undeterred, he rammed himself against you with more vigour, his release finally closing in at long, long last.

Picking up the pace a final time, he whined an almost pained guttural moan as he finally relaxed against you, the final thrust being just enough to milk him completely.

He fell limp over you, moulding himself against you, leaving traces of him behind and sculpting you into something sickening, maybe even something darkly beautiful, but ultimately, his and his alone.

Suguru shuddered as he felt himself empty, surrendering to your body that he tried to seek comfort from and yet found none from. He remained still confused, but almost devastated otherwise that you still didn’t seem to truly oppose him. That you didn’t cry from the pain nor try to fight him off anymore, despite claiming to not want this just moments before.

Your eyes and the now lacking light within them only continued to upset him, yet he could have sworn that he felt so seen in such a delicate moment.

So seen for who he truly was.

So, who really was the real monster here?

(Or rather, who was really a prisoner of who?)

~~~

this is part 2 of lilac’s bite sized yandere nightmares

[itsvelyria]

"f1 drivers as happy taylor swift songs"

happy testing week everybody!!

Charles Leclerc

yeah, you know i did one thing right🩷

he watches as you mutter conspiratorially with his mother, whispers in each other's ears and shooting glares to whoever dares eavesdrop. sitting on his childhood sofa, he reflects on the past and his life, pondering in the moment of silence. and there is this voice in his head that talks to him, reminding him of every regret, every single person he's loved and lost. he tries to shut the voice out, knowing full well the negativity never does any good. but as arthur had put it at dinner earlier, it seems as though he's been more relaxed of late. he brushes it off, but as his eyes train on the one he loved getting along swimmingly with the woman who loved him first, he thinks to chalk it up to the tiny nagging voice in his head that had appeared a few days ago out of the blue. the voice was a stark contrast to its predecessor, this one a ball of golden light, saying that maybe he's fucked up a lot, but at least he's got you.

Carlos Sainz

i know heaven's a thing, I go there when you touch me, honey💕

there is this undeniable tingle in his spine when your soft skin presses against his. even in the blistering Spanish heat, he welcomes any skin contact from you. he glances down at where the floppy sunhat blocks most of your face from the sun, and your eyes from his. wondering how much trouble you would give him if he flings the dreadful hat into the ocean, he misses the request you direct up at him. repeating the question, he nods, taking the suncream from your outstretched hands. he takes his time with the lotion, savouring every second his hands are on your back. you thank him with a quick press of your lips to his cheek and he rests a hand on your thigh, bending down to steal another from your lips. his love language was definitely physical touch, especially if it was yours.

Danny Ricciardo

i dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried💚

the sunshine is warm on your skin but the shoulder that brushes against yours is warmer. danny’s contagious laughter is carried by the gentle breeze that passes through the park. at age 9, danny had charmed your mom enough to let him bring her 7-year-old out on an adventure. your peripheral vision shows a teenage couple giggling over clasped hands, and when you’re young, you don’t think of the consequences, so the words slip out. “i bet you won't kiss me right here, right now”. and danny leans in, always ready for any challenge. and just as your lips are about to meet, you burst into laughter, darting away. you can still remember delightfully screaming through the public park as danny gives chase. it’s the same park he proposed in, after all.

George Russell

you wish it was me, don't you?💜

immersed in the classy ambiance of an art exhibition, george navigates the gallery adorned with bright splashes of paint marked contemporary. despite being engaged in interesting chatter, an inexplicable force compels you to lift your gaze, and it locks onto the familiar curls across the room. amid the elegant hum of hushed whispers, the air shifts, his lingering eyes meeting yours, giving rise to a thump in your chest. as his blue orbs drink in your form. once. twice. the rising tension manifests in the prickle of your bare shoulders and the unspoken question echoes amidst the artistic expressions. you yearn to step closer, to be the one on his arm. but long strands of brown silk and emerald green are in your place. and though his eyes long to meet yours again, there is nothing but empty space in your stead.

Lando Norris

so baby, can we dance through an avalanche?🖤

you drop the heavy box on the floor, the fatigue in your bones too wearisome to hold you up any longer. coupled with the emptiness of your apartment and the lack of a certain laughter in the stagnant air, you crumple onto the unmade bed. lying there for what seems like eternity, the thoughts of your future and whatnot plaguing your mind. the weight of unemployment burns heavily, so much so that you miss the sound of the door letting someone through. another body sags beside you, the familiar cologne staining your nostrils. your head turns, finding purchase in the shoulder beside. the stupid orange shirt reminds you of your limited time with him and something clicks. the home system is called upon as a DJ, playing soundtracks of celebration as you pull your boyfriend around the room in a made-up waltz, laughing at his put-out expression and then over the absolute misery that is life. despite the chaos, your heart still finds comfort in its other half’s presence.

Lewis Hamilton

romance is not dead, if you keep it just yours💙

as you clean the apartment you share with lewis, your gaze falls onto the cream card hidden just between your books. Persuasion and Porchia, you note. the seal on it a light purple, the shape of a heart in the hardened wax, and you can picture your boyfriend sliding it onto your bookshelf before he had left for another race this morning, a smirk on his face as he imagines you finding it, and you already know what it is. tracing the edges of the envelope lightly, you break the seal and slide the pages out, unfolding it to reveal the handwriting you had come to reverent. in swooping sloping cursive letters, he proclaims his love again, like he does in every single one of these. and as cheesy as it is, you treasure every single one of them, tucking them away in a little box at the corner of your wardrobe. someday when you have kids, maybe you'll take it out to show them just how deeply their father loves.

Max Verstappen

i don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you🩶

he knew this. he knew full well his career would take him across the world for three quarters out of the year and yet, the one thing he failed to realize was that nothing would feel like home. and then he found you, the absolute enigma that chose to do the same thing he did, realising early on that your home wasn’t in a place. and the streets of Kyoto were just lifeless alleyways till you pointed out the cosy glow of the warm streetlights with your brown streaked hair that shined gold under them and the dark nightscape with the way you shined in his eyes. you did the same for the beaches in Miami and balconies of Spain, easing the loneliness in his memories. slowly but surely, the words you had spoken to him were coming true and his home was taking the shape of you.

[neyafromfrance95]

I understand some might be frustrated but I for one think that what the showrunners are doing with Sauron x Galadriel in S2 is absolutely insane, and I never thought they would actually go there? The yearning, the heartbreak, the angst? Am I alone in this? Everyone knows this is doomship, and the only possible solace is for Sauron and Galadriel to be reunited in Valinor/Aman at the end of it all (literally). But we are being served, nonetheless.

you definitely aren't alone, anon! well, at least i'm with you!

i'm loving the slow-burn, the gradual build-up to their reunion. i believe that keeping them apart for an entire season while having them be obsessed with each other is going to make for an extremely explosive climax.

i understand the frustration, but i wish we did not immediately jump to negativity when we don't get an instant gratification fix, that's what the fanfics are for after all!

what we are getting with sauron x galadriel isn't the "crumbs", it is a very intentional and significant build-up.

we witness galadriel, betrayed and motivated by revenge, be shaken to her core by her taboo feelings for sauron. this dichotomy needs to seep in well.

we need to see sauron for a cold master manipulator that he is with others and then see how his facade falls when it comes to galadriel. we see him call her in her vision, i believe he even sends her the vision of his whereabouts in eregion as well, we see him think of her longingly just bc someone's hair reminded him of her. he is obsessed.

now, it all does come down to the ending. this structure of development is going to work only if they aren't as separated in s3 anymore.

also, fandoms are fun spaces to share your excitement with, but smtms they tend to be toxic and confusing. i have a much better experience when i decide by myself if i liked an ep or not after watching it instead of jumping to social media to tell me if it was good. for example, you have the lorebros with their misogyny screaming about how galadriel should be a docile decent wife/mother instead of fighting and having romance with sauron when 1) celeborn is missing/celebrian isn't born 2) galadriel has always been fighting sauron in lotr even when she had a family. these "complaints" never entered my mind before going on social media for trop fandom stuff, and they do nothing except for ruin my excitement, tbh. so just pay less attention to the useless discourses that have nothing to do with anything that's actually going on in the show.

and yeah, the valinor reunion idea is interesting bc i keep thinking how galadriel takes nenya to valinor and how now trop entirely recontextualizes this detail! bc for galadriel, nenya intrinsically represents her connection to sauron!

my point is, let's enjoy the slow-burn and in the meantime let's write those galadriel x sauron reunion in valinor aus!

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

Alrighty! @number-one-shadisper-shipper and I binged the Knuckles series today, so time for thoughts! SPOILER ALERT.

I'll admit the show wasn't perfect. I've seen the negative reviews, and I kinda get where they come from. BUT! I did enjoy this show greatly! And I'm not here to complain. Time for some happy thoughts, y'all! 💙🤩

I think you need to have a love, not just tolerance, for the SCU in order to properly enjoy this show. I do have such, so I had a lot of fun with it.

There were definitely scenes from every episode that had me either squealing, laughing, crying, or flipping out. But my favorite was likely the first episode, because come on, we saw the Wachowski family! Most of them, anyway! While I missed Tom's presence, I was grateful for that comment from Maddie about him being "out of town," so he wasn't just gone for no reason.

The SECOND it showed our three space babies hanging out together in their room?! I SCREAMED. THE BOYS!!!!

Tails sitting on his bed tinkering with one of his gizmos, Sonic rocking out to music with an air guitar, and Knuckles exercising from one of the ceiling planks. IT'S THEM!!! They're just hanging out, doing their thing, looking oh so much like brothers. And Sonic's narration at the beginning was GOLD. 🤣💙

Even though we didn't get enough of Maddie being a parent, we definitely got a nice chunk for it only lasting part of an episode. Maddie called Knuckles "one of our kids" (that had me SCREECHING). The angry mama vibes were GOLDEN. 🤣 The way she made breakfast for them, the "Boys, breakfast is ready!" I love the normalcy of it! Can't wait to see more in the future! (Her calling to them with "boys" is somehow just the sweetest thing and I'm melting.)

The poor mailman being like "I just wanna go home, man" 🤣

We were right, fellas, Knuckles had no idea what being grounded meant. 🤣 Although the way Sonic piped up with "Oh, I definitely know what it means," has me suspecting that Sonic himself has gotten grounded a decent amount before. 😂

Knuckles trying to talk back, and Maddie going, "ExCUSE ME?!" then just making those tiny, terrifying noises and Sonic being like "Bro don't mess with Mom when she's mad" (okay, he didn't say "mom" and that made me sad, but the mom vibes were 110% there so I'm here for it). 😂 And since Knuckles snuck out and later Wade said, several times, "Aren't you grounded?" seems to confirm that this entire show is basically what Knuckles does when he's grounded. 🤣 Although ... his comment about not being able to be grounded because he had no home made me very sad. 😭

I did not have an issue with so much Wade screentime! Sure, he isn't my favorite SCU character, but I love what this show did with him! I'd already seen his moments in the movies (like nearly shooting Robotnik in the face with an actual handgun). I like how they gave him actual family issues; a dad who abandoned him and his family, a realistic sister, a mom. Bad family memories. Awkward reunions. They could've made it a joke, but they didn't, and I greatly appreciate that. Especially since I've witnessed firsthand how painful family separations can be. 😔

All the emotional talks Wade and Knuckles had caught me off guard in the best way! The way they talked about their different family issues, the way they talked of betrayal from friends, and being left alone, hit way harder than I was prepared for. Especially that talk they had at the burger place in the middle of the night? Oof. Good talk right there.

Also, even though they took a "show don't tell" take with it, I loved how Knuckles relaxed more and more throughout the show. In the beginning, he couldn't rest, he couldn't sit back and have a genuine good time. But the more he hung out with Wade and his family, the more he learned. He learned about music and found "his jam" (that was literally amazing btw). He watched movies with Mrs. Whipple and ate snacks in the hotel room in Reno and watched more movies. He had his teenager moments of rolling his eyes and rebelling, but he was so well portrayed here, I loved it. I felt for him.

Despite the bizarre nature of the episode "Flames of Disaster," (we were cracking up so hard) I'm trying to glean bits of the truth of Knuckles's story from the crazy musical play that Pachacamac put on in Wade's dream. I mean, "Longclaw" and her tribe were there, and ... what the heck was that giant demon thing?! Iblis?! Does our Knuckles Wachowski have an actual history with freaking Iblis?!?! 😱🔥

I was deeply intrigued by the two main antagonists, especially at the implication that G.U.N. did seem to exist before the events of the first movie?! Did it exist, get disbanded after the Maria incident, then get reformed?! My brain is exploding. 🤯 I was even more shocked that they apparently died? I guess I shouldn't be surprised, the Wachowski kids don't seem to have much qualms about getting rid of the baddies for good as the game versions do. That was a terrifying phenomenon, what happened with the two rings. 🫣

And then the Buyer getting crushed by the giant glass ball 👀

Although in those last two episodes, I admit I was freaking out and legitimately near tears at Wade's seemingly having to "betray" Knuckles. Before the reveal that all was in good communication, all I could think was how relaxed Knuckles finally seemed, chilling in the hotel room, being excited about whatever Wade wanted to "show" him, questioning whether it was a song, him declaring that he was going to bring his favorite hat, 🥹 all I could think was of their previous discussions about betrayal from friends and family, and when Knuckles called Wade "my friend" right before the elevator doors closed, I just about sobbed. I was like "please, don't let him be betrayed, don't let him have come all this way and relaxed so much only to get 'betrayed' once again by someone he's come to consider a friend." 😭 We heaved a HUGE sigh of relief when it revealed he was aware of the trap the whole time. 😪

Maternal instincts went nuts when he got so badly hurt in that final battle 😭 I literally reached for the screen several times and was right back to almost weeping 🥲 And someone tell me I wasn't the only one noticing the parallel in that scene with Wade standing in front of his unconscious body the way Tom did with Sonic in the first movie. That, PLUS Knuckles's epic comeback, and his retrieval of his own power?!?! EPIC!!!!

The ending was abrupt, sure, but the pure joy on Knuckles's face after everything as he jumped up to high five Wade was just too sweet. 🥹

So yes, even though I would have loved just a little more, a return to Green Hills, a reunion with Maddie, Sonic, and Tails, I adored this show. It was a wild ride, full of laughs, tears, excited screeching, etc. 💙💛❤️ I don't care what anyone says, nothing will make me hate it.