#so thanks.' which is like..... okay great but is that first part entirely necessary??

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Two: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, one-sided relationship, menstruation, sexual content, pervy behavior [eventual warning for smut; be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin loves you so much it hurts and he’s really fucking weird about it, but it’s okay since it’s love 💕 He’s a massive Perv [diary entries from Ani] MDNI 18+

Date:

June 13th

Anakin woke up in a wonderful mood this morning. Today was going to be a good day, a really really good day. It was Thursday and you were going to book club at the library, which mean you would be going out for coffee after and then you’d go visit your sister before your shift at the diner. That would give him an ample amount of time to install the necessary security equipment for your apartment.

He’d already set up the wireless connection and app that goes along with the cameras the moment the package was delivered. He’d had plenty of time to do that yesterday while you were in class. He was so relieved that he’d be able to check in whenever he needed to, just a click or two and he’d be able to see and hear the goings on in your apartment.

These little microcams were an absolute lifesaver in his opinion, not only were they the perfect size, they also had an extremely long battery life *and* the resolution was surprisingly good. It was definitely worth the extra cash to get a clear picture of your pretty face.

He practically skipped down the street to your apartment, typing the code into the keypad when he arrived. He made sure to wipe his feet on the rug at the entrance, he’d hate to track dirt into your neat little living space. He trekked up the stairs to your floor and couldn’t help the massive grin on his face as he unlocked your apartment door.

Boogie greeted him happily now, he’d made sure to feed her little treats every time he visited just to get on her good side. He’d actually become quiet fond of the little gal, he could see why you liked cats now.

They were soft and cute just like you. He wouldn’t be surprised if you purred too, and if you didn’t… well he could fix that.

He locked the door behind him and got to work. He was thankful you were short enough to need a step stool because that was really coming in handy. It made it so much easier to place the first camera in the trim above your front door. He made sure it had a good angle of your kitchenette and living room.

The next was installed in the opposite corner on top of the bookshelf that held the hoard of books you promised yourself that you’d read but hadn’t gotten around to yet. You were just a girl after all, stuff like that didn’t keep your attention very well. He thought his reading voice would hold your attention much better than your own inner voice.

Anakin smiled as he thought about which book he’d read to you first… you had quite the collection, but he had plenty of time to figure it out before the time came.

Now he had a great view of the couch and the hall leading to your bedroom and bathroom. He checked the first two cameras via the app and was pleasantly surprised to see just how perfect the resolution was. He knew it was good, but seeing it in your home like this? He’d feel right there with you every time he checked the live feed.

Your bedroom. The one place he still hadn’t allowed himself to enter, this was your private space and it felt wrong to invade that privacy. It was one thing to peek in occasionally but an entirely different thing to actually go inside.

He took a deep breath and pushed the door open, the scent of you hitting him in the face had him weak in the knees. Anakin’s hands shook as he trailed his fingertips across the soft cotton sheets on your bed, you’d left it unmade.

He was already here… he might as well just try it out right?

No. No he can’t do that. If he lays down he’ll never get back up. His thoughts would eat him alive until he gave in and left a mess in your bed. Just a pillow then.

Oh… oh now he’s in trouble. Not only did he squeeze the pillow tightly and bury his face into its squishy middle to sniff every lingering bit of the smell of your shampoo… he did something very, very bad.

But it’s done now and he can’t take it back. Oh well, you won’t mind.

‘Back to work Anakin.’ He reminded himself and begrudgingly did exactly that.

He placed the third camera on the ceiling fan above your bed. Taking great care that the lens was completely covered.

He’s not that kind of guy.

He didn’t need to see what you did in bed… just hear it. You snored and Anakin just wanted to make sure you, ya know didn’t stop breathing or whatever in your sleep.

No other reason.

He took one glance over at the bathroom across the hall and really, really thought hard. He didn’t buy the fourth camera for your bathroom. He really didn’t.

He’s not that kind of guy.

He wouldn’t do that to you, but it was alright for him to think about it. Wasn’t it? Yeah. Yeah it’s okay to think about it.

With his handiwork finished he returned the step stool to it’s place under the kitchen sink and took a look around the place. It was homey, very cozy, very you.

You were alittle messy sometimes but that’s okay, so was he. Maybe he should clean up alittle. He smiled, proud of himself for thinking of it, and got to work. Just a quick run through of the kitchen and living room.

He couldn’t do *all* of your dishes, but he could certainly wash some silver ware and a cup or two to lessen the burden on you. So while he carefully washed and dried your favorite coffee mug, Anakin found himself sucking the spoon you’d used for your ice cream last night.

That’s good enough right? He’d licked it clean… you were going to use it again for ice cream tonight. He knew you would. Last month you ate ice cream for dinner the entire week of your period and you were doing the same this month. So he placed that spoon on top of the rest.

He vacuumed the kitchen and living room, your cat shed a lot and honestly Anakin should probably come vacuum for you more often because you’re not nearly as thorough as he is. He moved the couch and found at least two weeks worth of dust bunnies back there.

He knew it was difficult for you to juggle work, school and your personal life. You shouldn’t have to work, you should be able to stay home and lounge about after you’d cleaned house. He’d make sure you could do exactly that when the time was right.

Speaking of the time, he checked his watch and sighed. He should probably get going if he wanted to walk you to work.

On his way out he hurriedly placed the last camera in the stair well leading to the building’s entrance, that way he could familiarize himself with your neighbors and of course keep up to date with the door codes.

Diary Entry: June 14th

Those cameras I got for you are my new favorite thing.

It’s alittle unhealthy the way I check them as often as I do, but like they say, love makes people do crazy things.

I just can’t help it.

You’re so cute, I love the way you sing even if it’s really… not so great sometimes. But hey, not everyone is cut out for those high pitched vocals like that guy the one with the hair Kellin Quinn from that one song you really, really desperately want to hit the high note on. You’re amazing baby, but maybe don’t ever sing that one in public. Keep it at home just for me okay? Not everyone can appreciate your beautiful voice like I can.

You talk to your cat like she’s a person. Not even in a baby talk voice either, no, it’s more like she’s a girl from one of your college classes. You come home and tell her us your daily drama… it’s adorable.

I do however have a bone to pick with whoever Travis is. Travis can kick rocks. I can’t believe he did that to Amanda, and on her birthday? Unbelievable.

I think my favorite part of this new dynamic of ours is dinner time though. I even went to the corner store and got some cookie dough ice cream to eat with you. I felt like we were really there together, especially because I’m almost certain you used the spoon that I cleaned for you.

I’m so glad you have good taste in reality Tv as well. None of that Bachelor shit. No you like the juicy stuff. My kinda girl aren’t ya?

That Love is Blind show is truly one of the best reality shows I’ve watched in a while. But I had more fun listening to you laugh and shit talk those people. You’re fucking funny, it’s so cute.

Oh and guess what? I had a call with your super today! I’m next in line on the wait list for an apartment in your building baby. Hell yeah! It’s honestly really convenient, not only will I be right there whenever you need me, it’s closer to work so I can get home to you even quicker.

Diary Entry: June 18th

I’ve been alittle hesitant to tell you this sweetheart. I just feel real bad about it and I’m not great at sharing my feelings all the time. But I think it’s time I told you.

I just love you so much and I want to be with you all the time. Loving you from a distance is tolerable for now… but is it sustainable? No.

You’re a kind and understanding girl, sweet and caring, so I’m sure you’ll understand when I say that I *just couldn’t stop myself*. Your bed was so soft and the smell of you was so strong that I felt like I could drown in it. I hugged and kissed your pillow like my life depended on it but god… I found one strand of your pretty hair and that was just too much for me.

I’m sorry even though I don’t think you really mind all that much. Or if you do you’ve not said anything about it. It’s just… the fabric was so soft and you’re so pretty and I couldn’t help but think about what life would be like if I could come home to you in bed. Laying there with your pretty little eyes closed.

You’d look just like an angel. Peaceful and full of life, pink cheeks and smooth skin, warm and glowing.

So you can’t really blame me. You understand right? Really it’s your fault for being so damn perfect. But that’s really kind of an oxymoron isn’t it? You’re perfect so it can’t be your fault, but here we are.

Whoever is to be blamed, it doesn’t matter. What matters is: I’m sorry for tearing a hole in your favorite pillow.

Really and truly I’m sorry. I’ll fix it next time I stop by I promise. I just needed… something more you know? My hand just wasn’t good enough, too messy and wasteful. I needed to know that you’d be able to enjoy it too.

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking but you’ve slept alittle better these last few days haven’t you?

On second thought maybe I shouldn’t close up that hole. If me fucking your pillow and stuffing my cum into the fluffy filling helps you sleep better, well I’d be happy to oblige.

I’m not that kind of guy, I just made a mistake. But, I think you’ll thank me for it in the long run.

Your subconscious just lets you relax alittle more with me around doesn’t it? Even if it is just alittle bit of cum. You need a piece of me with you to feel safe and you don’t even realize it. My poor girl, I’ll make sure you sleep well for the rest of your life.

Eventually I’ll stuff you with my cum every night. Getting fucked to sleep sounds pretty good doesn’t it princess?

Diary Entry: June 24th

I hate to see you disappointed. Oh it just kills me inside angel.

I can’t even chide you for forgetting your debit card because it’s my fault for not making sure you put it back in your backpack after ordering those new shoes. I’m sorry sweetheart.

Don’t worry though. I’ve added a few extra bucks to your wallet, being a dollar short for coffee won’t ever be a problem again.

Realistically that barista was just doing her job and I know that, but the fact that anyone could possibly deny you something that you want is insane to me.

You’ll never have to go without your large vanilla iced coffee on laundry day ever again.

Especially after I saw how grumpy you get.

That little scowl on your face when your favorite washer/dryer were already being used. I would’ve marched over there and dumped out that old ladies wet clothes in the floor for you if you’d only asked.

But if I had then I wouldn’t have been able to enjoy watching you act like a brat out in public. I’ve never seen someone stare daggers through an elderly person like that before, you’re lucky she didn’t have a heart condition because damn that look could’ve killed her.

I’ll help you get that attitude under control soon enough princess. All you need is a good ass whoopin’ and a fat cock to tame you.

Note: Persil, those little blue shakies

PART THREE

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate

@burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10

@bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky

@naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani

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@angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled

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Let me know if you wanna be added/removed

[tortillamastersblog]

➶A big misunderstanding | Kate Bishop➴

Pairing: Kate Bishop x reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Since she joined the team, you can’t help but notice how weird Kate acts whenever you’re around…

Part 2

________________________________________________

Walking into the kitchen, I smile at the smell of pancakes that greets me.

“Good morning,” I say cheerfully as I round the corner.

I’m greeted by Sam, Bucky, Natasha and Kate. They’re all standing around the stove where Kate is flipping pancakes.

“Morning,” Bucky greets softly before turning back to the pancakes.

Sam and Nat send me smiles before also turning back to the stove. It’s like they’re dogs, drooling over a bone.

I chuckle softly and approach them, looking over Kate’s shoulder to appreciate the pancakes that are currently cooking in the pan.

“Smells great,” I compliment with an exaggerated inhale which is apparently the wrong thing to do because Kate shrieks in surprise and throws her arms up.

It results in her smacking the spatula into my face and I stumble back with a groan, covering my eye with one hand.

“Jesus!” I exclaim. I slap Sam’s shoulder to get him to stop laughing and send Nat and Bucky a glare to get them to stop smirking.

Kate spins around with wide eyes and lifts her arms as if to touch me before dropping them again. “Oh my God, Y/N! I’m s-so sorry… I didn’t mean to— I swear, I didn’t even realize you came in, I just—“

I raise a hand, effectively cutting her off mid-ramble. “It’s okay, Kate.”

I wince and lower my hand slowly, blinking to test if my eye still hurts. It does but it’s now no more than a dull ache rather than the stabbing pain it was when she actually hit me.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” Kate reiterates, her face scrunched up in guilt. She eyes me a moment longer before snapping out of whatever trance she was in and pulls and bag of frozen peas out of the freezer. “Here, take this.”

I laugh softly and take it from her, pressing it against my eye. “Thank you. It wasn’t entirely necessary, but thank you.”

Kate smiles nervously and goes to say something else when Bucky suddenly yelps behind her. “The pancakes!”

I look past Kate to see smoke rising from the pan. Sam and Nat watch in amusement as Kate scrambles to salvage the goods, but in the end she hast to throw out the batch and pour new dough into the pan– Much to Bucky’s dismay.

It’s not long after that the rest of the team comes sauntering into the kitchen. The small table gets set, rather than the big one in the dining room, and everyone starts loading their plates with pancakes and fresh fruit.

“These are great, Kate,” Steve compliments after swallowing his first bite.

The rest of the team murmurs their agreement around mouthfuls of food. Kate smiles bashfully and takes a sip of orange juice.

Cute…

“Yeah, they’re great,” I add with an approving nod which makes Kate’s eyes widen. She almost chokes on her orange juice and I frown, not having anticipated such a reaction.

“You good, kid?” Tony asks, his eyes twinkling mirthfully.

Kate’s eyes dart around the table, widening when they land on me before quickly snapping back to her plate. “Fine… Totally fine,” she chokes out.

I go to say something else, apologize maybe (for what I’m not exactly sure) but then she abruptly stands up and excuses herself from the table.

When she’s gone everyone looks puzzled. Well, almost everyone. Everyone except Nat who smirks at me with a knowing glint in her eyes.

I raise my brows in question, but her smile just widens and she turns back to Bruce to continue their conversation.

The rest of the table also resumes their usual morning chatter which leaves me in stunned silence.

What was all that about?

A week after the spatula incident in the kitchen, Steve stops me in the hallway. I just got back from the gym and am all sweaty and gross, so I only reluctantly agree when he passes me a comms device and asks me to bring it to Kate.

“Hers broke on the last mission,” he explains, “and Tony wants her to have it before we move out later.”

I sigh and make my way to the archery range where I know she is with Clint this time of day. We haven’t seen much of each as of recently and I’m starting to get the feeling it’s because she’s been avoiding me.

I enter quietly and wait for Clint to finish explaining something before approaching. “Hey guys.”

Clint nods and raises a hand in greeting. Kate’s eyes find mine for a second before they drop to roam over my exposed arms and shoulders. Her jaw slackens and I scratch my neck uncomfortably, not being used to this type of scrutiny.

I should have shower and changed before coming here, I think.

Clint watches the two of us with growing amusement before clearing his throat pointedly. “Y/N, what brings you by?”

Kate snaps out of her stare and looks around for a distraction. Her eyes land on the bow rack next to the arrow stand and she moves to put her bow away.

“Steve sent me,” I explain, raising the comms device. “Bruce managed to fix it.”

Clint clicks his tongue. “Right, yes. Tony mentioned it would be ready before we move out.”

I hand him the device before lifting the bottom of my shirt to wipe some sweat off my forehead.

Christ, I’m sweating like a pig…

In that moment there’s a loud crash and my head whips around to find Kate scrambling near the wall, trying to pick up all the bows she must have just knocked over.

I rush over to help her, but she winces when I crouch down next to her. “I’ve got it,” she snaps, her eyes trained on her shaking hands.

I gulp and freeze for a second. “Kate, let me help—“

“No,” she cuts in, snatching a bow from my hands and whispering another, “No.”

I’m just trying to help. Why is she being like this? The rejection that spreads through me is like a punch to the stomach. So she has been avoiding me. Why else would she be acting like this?

Did I do something wrong? I think about all our interactions since she joined the team, but I can’t come up with even a single instance where I might have done her wrong, or pissed her off.

I watch Kate for a second longer, hastily picking up the bows, before getting up. “Fine,” I mumble dejectedly. “Good luck tonight,” I add, referring to her upcoming mission with Clint.

She doesn’t look up or reply, so I back away with a frown.

Clint’s expression mirrors my own when I turn his way and he shrugs when I send him a questioning look.

I sigh and leave with a timid wave, not sparing another glance at Kate.

“Wanda?” I knock on the redhead’s door, waiting for a response. “Can I come in?”

Red wisps appear around the doorknob and the door opens.

I step inside to find Wanda at her desk with her back turned toward me. “Just a second, Y/N,” she says softly, typing away at her computer for a moment longer before turning around with a small smile.

“What can I help you with?” she asks as I close the door behind me.

I sit at the edge of her bed and fidget with my fingers. “You’re a pretty good judge of character, right?”

“I guess so… Why?” she says slowly.

I let out a shaky breath and look up to find her watching me curiously. “Do you think I’m a bad person?” I inquire.

There’s a beat of silence before Wanda gets up and sits next to me on the bed. She’s always been like a sister to me, so I trust her when she rushes to say, “What? No, of course not!”

I chuckle sadly and bite the inside of my cheek.

“Why would you think that?” Wanda pushes, her hand landing on my shoulder.

“I—“ I pause and think of how to phrase what I’m about to say next before delving into everything that has transpired between Kate and I.

It’s a lot and by the end of it I realized how much all of it has been getting to me. I’ve always thought of myself as a forthcoming, friendly person, but Kate’s blatant rejection of my company or care has me doubting all of it.

What’s surprising is that once I’m done talking, there’s a moment of silence before Wanda starts laughing next to me.

I scoff and eye her incredulously. “Hey! What’s so funny? I pour my heart out to you and you laugh?!”

Wanda tries to stifle her laughter by pressing her hand to her lips, but it does nothing to hide the mirth in her eyes.

“Hey!” I exclaim again, getting up, but Wanda grabs my arm and pulls me back down next to her.

“Wait,” she says around a huff of amusement. “I’m not laughing about your pouring your heart out. I’m laughing because you’ve got it all wrong.”

My annoyance quickly turns into curiosity. “Huh?”

Wanda shuffles closer and fixes the rumpled collar of my shirt. She’s such a mom…

“You’re not a bad person, by any stretch, Y/N/N,” she explains, her voice soothing. “And Kate’s not avoiding you because she hates you.” She emphasizes the hate part because those are the exact words I used to describe my relationship with Kate. I open my mouth to object, but Wanda is quicker, adding, “Quite the opposite actually.”

I stare at her, not knowing what to say until a disbelieving laugh bubbles out of me. “What are you talking about, Wanda? Kate doesn’t like me!”

Wanda raises an eyebrow and watches me expectantly as I continue to laugh.

“No! She can’t— She doesn’t—!” I stop myself abruptly when it dawns on me. Maybe what Wanda is insinuating isn’t that far fetched… It would certainly explain why Kate, a usually composed and precise person, turns into a fumbling, stuttering mess every time I’m around.

It would also explain her abrupt departures every time she knocks into me, or drops something around me. She’s not avoiding me because she doesn’t like me, she’s avoiding me because she’s embarrassed.

“Oh my God, Kate likes me,” I whisper and it’s as if Wanda’s words have lifted the fog in my mind that appears every time I think of the young archer.

I can see clearly now how she wasn’t judging me for being sweaty and gross at the range earlier. She was checking me out.

And when she knocked all the bows off the bow rack… It’s because I pulled my shirt up.

I turn to see Wanda beaming at me and as if the realization of Kate’s feelings toward me wasn’t enough already, I suddenly know why it’s hurt me so much that she’s been avoiding me.

She’s funny, and kind, and can be such a dork sometimes, it’s adorable…

Oh shit!

My ears heat up and I quickly look away when Wanda raises an eyebrow. “It is adorable,” she affirms with a smirk and I nod until it registers what she just said.

I freeze, horrified, and stare at her wide-eyed. “Did y-you just read my mind?”

Wanda laughs and raises her hands defensively. “I can’t help it if your thoughts are so loud!”

I groan and jump to my feet. “Wandaaaa!”

Wanda gets up too and grimaces apologetically. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to. I swear.”

I take a deep breath and rub my eyes with the heels of my hands. “Just— You can’t tell anyone about this. Not a single soul, you hear me?”

Wanda grabs my wrists and pulls my hands off my face. “I wouldn’t dare,” she says sincerely before adding, “You’d make a cute couple though.”

“Aargh!” I shove her aside and make my way to the door. I’m pretty sure by now my whole face and neck is as flushed as my ears.

Wanda cackles unapologetically and I roll my eyes, leaving her room without looking back.

Well shit, what do I do now?

________________________________________________

[five-hxrgreeves]

Two Positives Equal a Negative (Or Something Like That)

PAIRING: adam warlock & fem! quill’s sister!reader

WC: 2.8k (again, a long one. I just can’t seem to write anything short!) 

SUMMARY: you’ve always had trouble sleeping thanks your numerous (unfortunate) life experiences. While he hasn’t lived as long as you have, Adam has a similar problem. Fortunately, a Terran phrase that your brother taught you might have the solution that you seek.

WARNINGS: slight gotg three spoilers, fluff, angst if you squint.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: okay, so I accidentally lied and I realized that my last one-shot wasn’t my first official one; I wrote a Natasha x reader several years ago. I just don’t post on here that often so I forgot about it, lol. Anyway, Adam Warlock currently has a chokehold on me so here’s another one-shot for him- the sequel that I mentioned on the last one. I’m tempted to write a Gally one/two-shot, but I’m not familiar with the TMR universe so I’m worried that I’d mess it up.

Also, I know that the phrase is actually ‘two negatives equal a positive,’ but I was drawing on the fact that non-Terrans wouldn’t really remember/understand Peter’s references, and since ‘you’ had only been to Earth during Endgame, you it mixed up.

Part 0 , Part 1

You’d always had trouble sleeping, especially on your father’s planet. There had just been a sense of. . . wrongness that you didn’t need Mantis’ empath powers to feel. It had made you on edge most of the time, alert for the unseen danger that you felt. While this might’ve just been your role as Ego’s protector speaking, you knew that your sister felt similarly. Mantis had once offered to put you to sleep using her powers, which you’d agreed to. Although it had worked, you hadn’t liked the feeling of your emotions being messed with, or the vulnerability that came with sleep. Even though you trusted that your sister wouldn’t hurt you, Ego was a different story entirely.

So, that meant that you were up most of the time with only catnaps and snatches of sleep when absolutely necessary. (Luckily your enhanced stamina helped in this case so it wasn’t terribly detrimental to your wellbeing.) It was hard to hide your unusual sleep patterns on the Milano with your new friends since there wasn’t space to walk around like there had been on Ego’s planet. But the Guardians all had various traumas of their own, so they understood the difficulty of getting peaceful rest. Some nights had even been better than others as Peter would teach you how to play Terran card games, which would then include the rest of the Guardians once you’d learned.

You also liked to sit in the pilot’s chair late at night and watch the darkness of space light up around you. It was funny, really; everyone expected space to be a dark, black vacuum of nothing when it was actually just the opposite. Sure, there was no physical form of life, but space was alive in its own way. As the Milano sailed aimlessly through the stars, you’d pass the orange-red clouds of dust and gas— nebulas. Or the brilliant white-blue of a dying star, or the different hues of blue-black that surrounded you. Space was truly beautiful, which was something that you never tried to take for granted.

But now you were stuck on Knowhere. There were no brilliant colors of space to distract you or friends to play card games with. Mantis was gone— your only source of comfort on those long nights when you’d served your father. You were alone, with nothing but a Zune to distract you as you sat, bored, in the kitchen late into the night. You’d decided on some calmer tunes and were currently listening to the Frank Sinatra playlist you’d curated. A warm mug of tea— which Peter had also introduced you to— sat between your hands as your eyes glazed over, getting lost in your music.

--

As it turned out, Adam wasn’t that great of a sleeper, either. It always felt like there was too much energy running through him to be properly restful— not to mention that, whenever he closed his eyes, he saw his mother waiting for him as he flew desperately towards her. And then the explosion would come, jolting him out of sleep as a reminder of his failure.

With a sigh, he pushed back his covers and stood. Since he was already dressed (his mother had always told him to be ready for anything), he made his way to the kitchen where he’d baked cookies with you. It hadn’t been that long ago, but he already missed the comfortable, homey feeling he’d gotten as he formed the batter into spheres with you standing at his side. You had yet to talk to Rocket about how his comments made you feel, but he knew it was because you respected your teammate and didn’t like making a big deal out of things. Thinking about you now, he sort of hoped that he would see you in the kitchen when he got there— but that was a crazy thought; it was the middle of the night! Any normal person would be in a deep sleep by now.

So, it was definitely a pleasant surprise when he came upon you, sitting at the head of the table. Your earbuds were in your ears, as usual, and you seemed to be deep in thought as you absentmindedly traced the rim of your mug with your finger. He was comfortable enough with you to approach you without hesitation, so he took the chair next to yours and nudged you gently to get your attention.

You jumped, startled by the unexpected presence of someone else in the room. At first you had a wild thought that it might be Peter, who came to keep you company as he often had. You were only mildly disappointed to see that it was Adam instead (and this was just because you missed your brother; you were actually quite happy to see the golden boy.) You took out your earbuds and paused your music. “You’re up late. Or early.”

His golden eyes met yours— something you noticed that he did often; it seemed that eye contact was his way of showing that he was listening to you, which always made your stomach flutter pleasantly. “So are you,” he replied. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nah,” you said with a shrug. “You?”

“Me either,” he agreed.

You sat in a comfortable silence together, one so long that you were almost tempted to  put your earbuds back in. Maybe this was a one-off thing; you’d never seen him before on your sleepless nights. Maybe he wasn’t used to being up at this hour and just wasn’t as talkative as he normally was with you. But you were also curious; what could a supposedly perfect being be troubled with at night? So, you sighed, and against your better judgement (as you hated to talk about your feelings), you asked, “wanna talk about it?”

But Adam also knew how you were, and he shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind just sitting here.” He got to enjoy your company, after all, so he considered tonight to be better than most.

You let out another sigh. As much as you hated getting touchy-feely, the night was already very boring; sitting and not talking would only make it worse. “I don’t mind, actually. I’m used to being around other people when I’m up like this. Talking would make the time pass faster.” You studied his expression for a moment, which was unusually unreadable; it always seemed like he had a kind smile or glance to send your way. “We can start off easy, if you want. Are you up like this every night?”

His expression softened at your willingness to go outside your comfort zone, so he answered honestly. (He had nothing that he wanted to hide from you, anyway.) “Most nights, yeah. What about you?”

“Same,” you agreed. You played with the rubber protective tip on your earbud. “Can’t get to sleep or bad dreams?”

“Both,” Adam admitted. “Although it’s usually the first one.”

You nodded. “Same, again, but for me it’s mostly the latter. You remember when I said that you weren’t the first person to try and kill me?” At his confirmation (because how could he have forgotten that?), you continued, “yeah. It’s mostly that. My father was a great parent,” you finished sarcastically.

When you’d first become friends, you’d shared stories about the Guardians’ adventures— even the ones that had happened before you’d joined the team— although they’d mostly been lighthearted in tone. You’d acted like they hadn’t really affected you and had laughed at the fact that your father’s planet had tried to swallow you whole. Adam sort of wished that your father was still alive so he could fight him for you. While his mother had had her moments of parenting issues, he’d never doubted that she did love him; it was clear that this wasn’t the case with your father.

“I’m sorry,” he said, not really sure what else he could say. Despite everything that had happened to you, you were still a good person; you hadn’t fought the Guardians on your first meeting like he had, which already made you better than him. He wished that there was something he could do (such as getting revenge for you) to help ease whatever burden you were feeling as you often had for him, but there didn’t seem like there was anything that he could do.

“Don’t worry about it,” you replied in a blasé tone, already moving on from your heavy things. “Want to talk about your stuff?”

He shifted in his seat, a little uncomfortable to admit his failure to you. He wanted to prove that he was just as capable as you were, and this was one of his worst moments. “I. . . keep thinking about my mother.” His gaze dropped to where his hands were folded on the table, unable to watch your reaction in case you thought worse of him. “How I. . . wasn’t able to save her. I was so close, too. If only I’d been faster—”

You reached out a hand to put it on top of both of his, cutting him off. Yours was much smaller in comparison, barely covering even one of his hands. He looked up at you with surprise, feeling his face heat up at the contact. Your usually jovial expression was uncharacteristically serious as you chided him gently, “stop. Thinking like that never helps, you know. You’ll drive yourself mad if you keep wondering ‘what if.’ I should know.”

While he was relieved that his fears about your reaction were unfounded, he frowned at your last words. “What do you mean?”

You pretended not to notice that your hands were still holding his as you answered, “remember what I told you about the Snap?” At his nod, you continued, “Peter and I were the only ones who weren’t trying to subdue Thanos. My powers are mostly defensive, so they would only anger him, which was the opposite of what we were trying to do. Peter got— understandably— distraught at the news of Gamora’s death and he was practically solely responsible for the Snap.” You sighed heavily, dropping your gaze from him. “As the only other person not doing anything on that planet, I could’ve stopped him, but he was my brother; I couldn’t hurt him. But if I had. . . everything could’ve been so much different. In a way, I was responsible for the Snap, too.”

While he understood your reasoning, he didn’t completely agree with it. You’d filled him in with great detail about the Infinity War, which you’d only learned the missing parts after you’d been brought back. So, he insisted quietly, “Thor could’ve also gone for Thanos’ head, but he didn’t.”

“But Thanos wouldn’t have even gotten to the Terran planet if we’d stopped him on Titan. You see what I mean? These what-ifs really messed with my head— still do. You eventually just have to accept the fact that the situation can’t be changed and learn from your mistakes.” In a lighter tone you added, “I promised myself that the next time I needed to sock it to Peter, I wouldn’t hesitate. Maybe a good hit to the head would knock some common sense back into him.”

Adam chuckled at this, his serious expression lifting. Sensing that you didn’t want to talk about such emotional topics anymore, he changed the subject slightly. “So you’re up every night because of these thoughts? Don’t you need sleep?”

“Yeah, but I’ve got enhanced stamina, so not as much as a regular person,” you said, relieved that he picked up on your hint. “What about you? You’re practically a god yourself.”

He felt his face flush with (pleased) embarrassment at your indirect compliment, even if it was truthful. “That’s part of the problem, I think,” he explained. “All this power. . . it gives me too much energy and. . . I can’t sleep.”

You frowned thoughtfully at your similar predicaments, an idea (admittedly, a stupid enough one that Peter could’ve come up with it) forming in your mind. “Y’know,” you began slowly, “Peter taught me a Terran phrase awhile back. I can’t exactly remember how it goes— it’s like two positives equal a negative, or something like that— and it means that when there’s two good things, it cancels out the bad one. We could try and apply it here.”

He gave you a curious look. “Really? How?”

“Well, since we both can’t sleep— that’s the negative— maybe. . . maybe if we slept. . .” You felt your face burning at your suggestion. “If we slept. . . tog— well, not together-together, I mean�� with each— does that sound worse? I—” you struggled to find the right wording that wouldn’t come off as suggestive. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you added hastily, misunderstanding his bemused expression.

“Little Quill,” he teased you lightly, “you haven’t even gotten the question out.”

Oh. You only felt even more embarrassed. “Do you want to sleep in my room?” you finally managed to blurt out, burying your face in your hands, unable to look at the boy across from you.

Instead of taking offense or making fun of you as you’d expected, Adam seemed to actually consider your offer. “Do you think it would work?”

At his question, you dropped your hands to your lap and shrugged, though your face was still very red. He seemed remarkably unflustered, not that you could tell if he was (damn his beautiful golden skin— wait, what?) “I don’t know,” you mumbled, still refusing to look at him. “I can only sleep if I feel safe, and there’s only one person I ever felt that way with— Mantis. But. . . now I think that includes you, too.”

Adam couldn’t help the bright smile that formed on his face at your words, the thought that you felt safe with him (especially after everything that he’d done to you and your friends) meant more than he could say. The thought that you would willingly be vulnerable in his presence made his stomach feel enjoyably— and inexplicably— nauseous. “I feel safe around you too,” he replied without hesitation. “And. . . I wouldn’t mind trying it.”

--

Not long after, the two of you returned to the room you were renting in the dorm-style building. Since neither you nor Adam had family to speak of (and were also short on funds), you’d both found rooms in a tenant building that had lots of other people, many of whom had lost their homes during the Guardians’ most recent adventures. Luckily you’d gotten a room to yourself, though you had to share basic facilities with everyone else.

“You can sleep in the bed since this was my idea,” you offered. You were still in what you considered your pajamas, so you just had to gather some spare blankets and pillows.

Adam shook his head, against the thought of you making accommodations for him. “I can sleep on the floor. You shouldn’t have to give up your bed.”

“It’s not like I use it much anyway,” you joke, pulling the covers back. “But if you’re seriously against me sleeping on the floor, I guess we could. . . share?”

He seemed not to mind your proposal as he agreed readily, and after taking off his shoes, he made to get in when you spoke again with a confused look on your face. “You. . . sleep in your clothes? No wonder why you can’t get comfortable!”

Adam seemed to not understand your comment. “You sleep in your clothes.”

You laughed a little at his observation. “These are sleep clothes, not everyday clothes. At least take off your jacket,” you reasoned.

But as he did so, you realized why he hadn’t gotten more comfortable: there was nothing except chiseled chest under his clothes. You blushed and tried (but failed) not to stare as he got into bed next to you, admiring the way his muscles flexed with his movement. Luckily he seemed to not notice your attention as he settled next to you. There was a sizeable gap between you two despite the bed not being very big, one that you wished you had the guts to close. (Wait— again, what?)

You wondered how you’d ever get to sleep with all that muscle right behind you (okay, this one you could admit freely), but somehow, in the quiet stillness of your dark room, the safe, peaceful feeling lulled you into the first restful slumber that you’d had since your siblings had left months ago.

--

And if you woke up the next morning, curled up against Adam’s chest with his arm wrapped around you protectively, neither of you bothered to say anything about it.

[olderthannetfic]

hii! does anybody have any advice on how to feel okay with not having friends? i spent years abroad, so in the meantime my irl friends from hs found other friends to hang out with who they seem to like more than me or else are very busy with work and uni and such. which is cool, good for them for having such a vibrant social life, but it feels like they have no room for me anymore and i'm a person who can't make friends that easily. i don't drink or smoke, and i feel uncomfortable in big gatherings and feel better getting to know ppl one-on-one over a longer period of time, but that makes it hard for me to connect to ppl bc most irl people don't have much patience or already have their own established friend group and little old me doesn't hold their attention.

i'm starting a new job in a couple of weeks, so hopefully that will give me the necessary social interaction plus i have a great family, so i'm not going stir crazy, it just hurts a little that my friends don't bother to text me for days if i don't text them first or invite me out to places. and i'm trying to make new friends, it just doesn't come that easy and in the meantime i wish i could just feel at peace w being alone instead of questioning why people don't want to hang out with me or why i don't feature into their leisure plans. (not that i'm blaming them, it's just that it's hard not to feel inadequate.)

so yeah, anyone have any advice on how to feel at peace w being alone? like, maybe i'll never manage to make new friends or make new connections, maybe through lack of trying, maybe through lack of luck, idc, i just want to be enough for myself, but i don't know how.

so any wise words are appreciated and thank you, OTNF, for letting me vent in your inbox :)

--

Well... those feelings are pretty common and a natural reaction to the situation. You may not really get rid of them entirely, but you can accept them as a natural part of things and not a sign that anything has gone wrong.

HS friends rarely stick with each other even during college, let alone after, so you would likely be in this same boat regardless. Making new adult friends can be a pain, but it's something most of us face multiple times even if we luck into some good friend groups at points and even if we're more social.

The thing to do for many people is to keep busy with hobbies. A crafting meetup or book club isn't usually massive. I know you don't like groups, but nobody is going to go off one-on-one without meeting you in a group context first. Finding some more manageable groups to meet people casually and see if you click is how most people do it. The only way to get to know people over time is to show up in the same places with the same people a lot.

--

Another important thing to realize about adult friends is that many of them won't be good about texting you or inviting you because they're all out of energy for doing that with anyone. Maybe all of their energy is reserved for a job. Maybe for a child. Maybe for a romantic partner.

Even if you're their very best friend, they may still not respond much at certain times in their life. If you guys are just post college, maybe that's not the issue yet, but it will be at some point.

Every single book about the plague of loneliness and how people suck at maintaining core friendships outside of their household is fixated on this. People suck at recognizing when they aren't putting enough energy into maintaining relationships.

I would axe that hangdog attitude about little old you not holding people's attention. They probably just aren't allocating time to building friendships at all.

--

Liking being alone has a lot to do with loving yourself in general and having hobbies and things you want to have time for that are solo pursuits.

It's also about not waiting to do things like go to a restaurant you want to check out. Go alone. Go with a book. Anything can be a solo activity unless it literally mandates 2+ people. Missing out on friend time shouldn't mean missing out on everything else, but a lot of people let it become that.

[theosb0rnway]

Ghostface ranking please n thank you

OH MY GOD YES YES YES I LOVE RANKING ALL THE GHOSTIES

My ranking of all 15 Ghostfaces so far (yes.... I'm including Jason and Greg because if I don't, SOMEBODY'S gonna bitch about it I know--)

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR ALL 6 SCREAM FILMS

Rankings under the cut

Stu Macher (Scream)

The BEST Ghostface to ever Ghostface. A BIT underrated just because people will sometimes give Billy more credit. But like- hot man. Has no actual motive for killing, Billy was like "Hey, dude, let's kill people" and he literally needed nothing more. Thought up of some of the key parts of their plan, definitely gutted Casey and Steve, probably put Kenny on the van by himself (Billy wasn't around, so-) . Definitely top 3 or 4 strongest Ghosties to date. And the humor-- okay, I could go ON AND ON about Stu, but I'll stop here. Matthew Lillard really took the character from boring in the script to one of the only parts of the original film me and my mother (who's TERRIFIED of horror films and would rather forget them) remembered from our first watch when I was 13. (She said she'll never forget his laugh and that she hates him. ... She then got me a t-shirt of him not 3 weeks later for Christmas. Sorry, Mom-) Great job, man! Stu stole my heart, LOTS of my money, and a large part of my brain, so it's safe to say he'll always be my fave and an icon in my eyes. (Literally wearing my Stu shirt as I type this, what a fun coincidence LOL-)

2. Charlie Walker (Scream 4)

I said what I said. People either adore Charlie or despise him, and I love him DEARLY. Yes, he's very attractive, but on top of that, he racks up one of the highest kill counts by a single Ghostface alone in the entire franchise, beaten only by Roman, I believe. From Olivia Morris, which was obviously his kill, to tossing Rebecca Walters off a building, to Jenny and Marnie... definitely Robbie... Kirby... Kate Roberts... man just went crazy with the kills, and I respect it. He had loyalty, some great lines, a HILARIOUS deleted scene ( ), and he kept cool under pressure, never revealing himself until absolutely necessary. Do I relate to him? Yep. Is that bad? Probably, but I love him anyways.

3. Jill Roberts (Scream 4)

Another maybe controversial ranking, but I love Jill! I think her motive is fantastic, the way that she uses Charlie to get what she wants, and as someone who has acted innocent in situations where I'm definitely not, her acting is spot on. I never thought about it being her until her reveal, and it's still one of my favorites of all time. She is also, I believe, the Ghostface who got closest to the goal of killing Sidney and getting away with it, so congrats, girl! You had the whole world fooled till the hospital! She's a great take on what I think is the modern version of Billy Loomis, and she nailed the innocent act, truly. Did she kill anyone? Probably, but I can't think of anyone who I know is 100% a Jill Kill. Either way, good for her for not getting her hands dirty, or FOR getting her hands dirty! Impressive no matter what in my mind.

4. Billy Loomis (Scream)

Dont worry, Billy fans, he's still in my top 5! The only reason he's not my third is because I think he's just a BIT overrated. If the movies weren't constantly making him seem like he was the only killer and completely alienating Stu (I think there's a reason for that, but I won't explain that here), then I'd put him above Jill. I know that's a weird reason, but it's my reason. Billy is a fantastic manipulator who knew how to get exactly what he wanted from Sid, and also was a repressed drama queen, which I relate to a lot. While Stu was openly crazy, Billy hid behind the stone cold semi-facade. I don't think Billy would ever have gotten as crazy as Stu did, but he definitely showed the drama in several ways that make me smile and laugh every time. Falling down a flight of stairs? Fucking up Stu's couch cushions? Comedy gold every time. I give Billy credit for stabbing Casey, killing Himbry, and killing Tatum. I think the rest were Stu's because of the gutting and where Billy was at the time. I also think he killed Maureen, so a nice 4ish kills for him! Anyways, top tier Ghostie, another one I'll always respect respect and love.

5. Amber Freeman (Scream 5)

I'm gonna be honest, I hated her when I first watched Scream 5. Hated Richie too, but he's still terrible. Fuck him. I thought Amber was a trashy, third rate version of Stu that was extremely fake and her turn from cold to goofy seemed extremely forced. Then I took a deep dive and figured out why. (If you want a full explanation, let me know, I'm trying to stay short here.) So I believe that Richie is this movie's Stu and Amber is the movie's Billy. From her plans, her using the house, just her very cold, calm demeanor in the beginning, she just gives Billie energy, while Richie is just... well, he's the Netflix guy. He makes jokes left and right. But Amber, I think she was trying to be the Stu while Richie was trying to be the Billy. Everyone forgets that Stu was a boyfriend too, (Billy's) Tatum's boyfriend. Amber was supposed to be Tara's girlfriend in the original script. So now, I see her third act as more of her desperate attempt to look like her idol instead of sticking with the persona that served her well for the rest of the film. That really made me appreciate her more, and made her feel even underutilized, as did the Macher house. (I LOVE THAT HOUSE. I LOVE IT. Well, the actual actual house, not the Scream 5 version.) So yeah. Amber was a cold blooded killer trying to be just like the Macher before her, even if that wasn't the part she was meant to play in her movie. Taking credit for Dewey's kill? Absolutely. She was in the cult and she just wanted to piss Gale off by saying she did it. Fantastic lines, wonderful creep factor! Her death- *chef's kiss* Lovely homage to Sidney shooting Billy. And that's my top 5!

6. Quinn Bailey (Scream 6)

The only member of that damn family who did a good job killing. Richie included. Funny? Check. Didn't see her coming? Check. Ruthless? Double check. I don't think she did Gale's attack either, I think that just like Amber, she took the blame for someone else's work just to keep them hidden. Besides that, she was a good character, someone you thought was long gone until she wasn't. Bonus points for her saying Stu was her fave and definitely being the one to stab Mindy on the subway. Maybe not the greatest Ghostie ever, certainly low on kills, but I enjoy watching her a lot.

7. Nancy Loomis, aka "Debbie Salt" (Scream 2)

Another hidden killer who deserved more screen time after her reveal, and more backstory. I love her motive of "good, old-fashioned revenge", and I can see her killing Randy out of rage. Killing Mickey? Nice way to keep things in her favor! Debbie Salt was eh. Don't remember her much tbh- I would've liked to see Nancy more as herself, she just had great potential. Did she take some kills? Absolutely. Got her hands dirty to honor her son. But that's what I don't like. She leaves Hank, then suddenly after Billy dies, she's like the best mother ever?? Killing for the son SHE left?? Her leaving is the reason Scream happened, paired with Maureen and Hank's infidelity-- that's why she's a solid 7 in my book, and the best of the worst. Only goes downhill from here, folks.

8. Mickey Altieri (Scream 2)

GREAT in the Act 3. Other than that? Um... he was okay, I guess? He had some funny lines, but where I really like him is in the possibility possibility of what he's done. He definitely killed for Nancy, he was insane and just wanted people to see him that way. He DID talk to Matthew Lillard in the background of the sorority party... Mickey and Stu working together?? His Act 3 was good, he showed he could be a good Ghostface, scared Sidney, killed Derek... but that's where this ranking and my positive comments about him stop.

9. Wayne Bailey (Scream 6)

Classic parent who wants revenge, angry, pulls it off decently. He has some good moments, funny, a definite suspect, and nowhere near as good a cop as Dewey. Points for trapping the Core 4 (minus Mindy) and Kirby in the second coolest location in the franchise, but that's where my positivity stops. Sam killed him easy, he was a shit parent until Richie died I bet. Did he get his kids to murder? Oh yeah, I think he's the one who made this whole plan up with Quinn and Ethan's help. He doesn't really stand out. Did he kill?? Even wear the fucking mask?? I honestly don't think so. I would put him lower, but compared to the next three... yeah, he's fine at 9.

10. Richie Kirsch (Scream 5)

WHYYYY. WHY. The only goof thing I can say is that like 5 of his lines made me laugh, and he also hates Stab 8. Me too, dude, that looks BAD. Motive? Pretty good, solid movie motive, getting with Sam to get the job done. Ruthless? Yeah. But he's sloppy. He's a Stu without the magic, just trying to make a movie. Him dating Amber?? *vomits* KILL ME NOW. He was 100% manipulated by her, I know he was. A sad attempt of Billy Loomis that leaned more towards Stu, and his cheesy shit throughout the film made his "true colors" seem kinda dull and not very scary. I don't like him. I don't.

11. Ethan Landry [Bailey] (Scream 6)

Like father, like sons!- all in my least favorite 5 of legitimate Ghostfaces. How much screen time did he have?? Not enough. Innocent guy, "I was in Econ!" to "HAHAHA I'M INSANE NOW!!"? I hate it. His transition was too forced, he was bland and stupid, his attempts at faking his knowledge about everything were embarrassing and made him look worse as a character. The easiest Ghostface to spot. I don't know, I mean I get people like him because he's insane and attractive, but I don't. Sorry to all of you who love this guy and his family. His best scene? When Tara stabbed him in the mouth. You go, queen!!

13. Roman Bridger (Scream 3)

Fuck. FUCK. I hate him, I hate this movie, I hate it all. His motive is pretty solid, I actually like it a lot... but he was stuck up, whiney, and underutilized. Like Ethan, low screen time, unbelievable shift from loser to villain- did he even share a scene with Sid?? Talk to her?? And this makes Billy and Stu look like lackeys. I HATE IT. I would've much rather had the Stu leading a Ghostface cult film, but I know why they went this route instead, and I respect that. Like Ethan, the best part about him, and of this movie, is his death. Dewey missing his head like 5ish times before finally hearing Sid and going for the head Thor in Endgame style?? Comedy. GOLD. I love Dewey Riley. But yeah, I just don't like Roman at all. His strengths are his motive, his INSANE kill count (I think he had an accomplice.), and his physical strength. Besides those? Useless. Sorry, Roman die-hards.

14. Jason Carvey (Scream 6)

Not bad for a Ghostface killed in the first 15 minutes. He had the makings of a good killer, definitely in the cult, but his time was just extremely short. Nothing much to say about him, but his only kill was a fantastic start to the film. I would put him higher, because I think he WAS a good Ghostface, but... 10 minutes or less of screen time? Sorry dude, don't know you well enough.

15. Greg (Scream 6)

Who?? Saw him a fridge. That's it. What's his last name, I don't remember- No screen time, not even alive on screen. Nothing more to say. He was probably pretty good though, if he was anything like Jason.

And there's my ranking of all 15 Ghostfaces!! If you want to add your own, feel free to below! If you wanna comment on mine, please be respectful, but I'd like to know why you don't like characters I do, or like ones I don't. If your faves are my faves, share!! I love finding new Scream buddies!! And thanks for listening if you made it this far, that was LONG.

[bellaxgiornata]

hiiii

this might seem like a bit of a weird ask, but you seem super nice and i thought it would be okay if i asked you ! (also sorry if this is long)

i’ve been part of the daredevil fandom for a long time and i’ve been writing about dd for over a year and a half now. before i was writing for this fandom, i wrote fanfic about an entirely different genre for like 10+ years. when i was in the other fandom i wrote exclusively on wattpad, and i made a lot of online friends and was a part of writing communities and it made the experience so much better ! but since i changed directions (and started posting on ao3 first and wattpad second) i’ve had a hard time getting into the dd community.

i’m still new to using tumblr for fanfic so i haven’t posted anything of mine here/ followed many writers here (and i’m working on that !). but i was wondering if you had any advice on how to start chitchatting with other people in the fandom ? it feels super cringy for me to be like “i love your work, maybe you’d like mine !” bc i don’t want people to think i’m just trying to promote myself (i promise i’m not). but i miss being involved in online writing communities. it was one of my favorite things in the other fandom and now i’m struggling to find a place here. i try to respond to comments and have reached out to one or two writers before but it didn’t really go anywhere /:

so, tldr; do you have any advice on getting into the writing community/ making friends in the daredevil fandom ?

(and side note i love your work and have been reading your stuff almost as long as i’ve been writing— i’ve reread FFTD so many times and CANNOT WAIT for more updates on TDAYW and ATY !)

thank you !! sorry again this was so long

Hey friend!! This is actually a really great question that I'm sure you're not alone in wondering about! I definitely agree with you though, making friends in the fandom makes the experience so much more enjoyable. I used to write on FFN until I took a couple of years break from fanfic when I was in grad school. I had never made friends in fandom back then because I hadn't found communities and ways to accomplish that via FFN. Even when I came back to fic on AO3 and shortly after I started writing for Matt, I hadn't made friends right off the bat. But I always tried to respond to comments on my stories which is when I started to realize how fun the community was.

My answer is going to be long, so I'm going to put it below the cut! Also anyone else here reading this, if you have tips for making friends, please feel free to share them!!

Honestly tumblr I think is the way to go for making friendships. I have never used wattpad so I can't speak to the way it is set up, but AO3 doesn't quite allow for that too well because we can only communicate via comments. Tumblr gives so many more opportunities to meet lots of others and comment or send messages or share others' content with reblogs.

It's totally not necessary to share your stories on here, but I think that does help. Or to maybe even just promote your updates on your other platforms with links. Because it gives people an opportunity to come here and talk about your stories with you. But I think content creators, whatever you're making, probably make friends a little easier because we are providing something for others to (hopefully) interact with and consume.

As for reaching out to others, I cannot speak to how everyone would react because I know we all have different boundaries, but I think commenting/comment reblogging regularly on writer's or artist's work that you like is a good start. Or sending friendly messages or asks to someone. Just always be sure to be friendly and respectful.

I personally tend to notice the people I'm always seeing chatting in my notifications and then have made friends that way. It just seems like a natural progression if you're often talking to some people, conversations start to shift outside of just that content. Maybe to the show and then to other things. It's how I also tend to interact with others on here in order to make friends; commenting and sharing their work, sending asks or participating in their events, sending a message with something nice in it.

Though I agree, I think your initial comments to someone shouldn't be something about coming to read your work because it feels pressuring. I had a negative experience with that and didn't know how to handle that when I first got into the fandom and it made me uncomfortable because I never want to be rude or hurtful. So instead, maybe find ways to relate as a writer if you see them talking about writing in general, or other ways to make a comment that mentions that you also write. If they have time and want to read your work they will! And if not, that's okay too! I personally have a growing list of TBR and I mean nothing offensive if I can't get to someone's work, I just personally don't have as much time to read for example.

For me, I just sort of fell into making friends on here because of my writing. And I met so many other talented artists because of that and I've become "fans" of them as well and have had friendships form that way. And it's not just content creators, I've made friends with many wonderful people in the community who are reading my works too! It's fun to chat and dissect the show or to relate about other things (I'm a mom and have met other lovely moms here).

So my advice is to just keep reaching out and talking to people! Some conversations might lead somewhere and some might not. And that's okay! Everyone is different. I personally think the Daredevil fandom as a whole is absolutely amazing and full of wonderful and talented individuals who are more often than not open to making friends ❤️ I always am!

And like I said above, for anyone that has any other tips, please feel free to add them!

(And thank you so much!!! ❤️ I'm so glad you enjoy those stories!!)

[lemotmo]

I love that we're all just spiraling into AU theories 🙃

Q. I'm nervous about the fact that they have clearly added several Lonestar writers. That show is so ridiculous and all the BTS stuff coming out is making me more confused, haha. Because what the actual hell is happening?? Hello magazine cover!

A. Okay it's time for some truth. Is Lonestar a ridiculous show? Yes. But 911 is not free of its own ridiculous choices. I watch Lonestar. And it's nothing but mindless television. It's pure fluff. It's wacky and over the top and does certain things that are absolutely ridiculous. But so does 911. We just tend to give it more of a pass because it's the show we prefer, and overall it is the far superior product. Overall it has better characters. Overall it has better acting. Overall it has better stories, but they're still capable of telling absolute garbage. The entire back half of last season proves that. The first half wasn't without its flaws either. For starters spending three episodes on the sinking ship was definitely one episode too many, in my opinion. Especially when you account for the fact that a great deal of that time was spent on that ridiculous Norman and Lola plot. It was stupid and was allowed to take up way too much time. Was anyone dying for an update on Norman and Lola? No. Literally no one cared if we ever saw them again, but there they were front and center for three freaking episodes. Let's move to the wedding episode now. Was that much hallucinated Doug necessary? Nope. Again, way too much screen time devoted to a part of the story absolutely no one wanted to see again. The episode was excellent overall but there was way too much unnecessary Doug. Then we spent the rest of the season with Bobby and the cartel, vigilante Athena, and Eddie dating his dead wife's twin. Utterly ridiculous television. We have to call a spade a spade.

If they really are doing an AU everyone will need to understand that a storyline like that comes with a certain built in level of ridiculousness. All of the speculation is fun and interesting, and some of it probably way better than what we will actually get, but people need to acknowledge parts of it will most likely be ridiculous. It's called fantasy for a reason. We can't automatically expect it to play like Buck's coma dream. We're most likely going to have to suspend reality for a bit. Especially considering the BTS stuff we've gotten so far leans more satirical than dramatic. Obviously we have no actual details but I just don't want people raging if it goes more camp than serious. That doesn't mean the events that lead up to the AU or the parts that come after the AU can't or won't be serious. I just think people should have the expectation of at least some of it being ridiculous. And that's okay. It's okay to have a bit of fun with it. And yeah the magazine was odd, lol. I have no idea what's happening. He does look like Eddie. Kind of. So who knows. The big thing for me was that he was hiding his hand, again. So that's clearly going to be something. Hopefully he does get to punch Gerard. But I doubt it. That would just require makeup for bruising, unless he breaks his hand doing it, but the cast would just slip on and off, so there would be no need to keep it on when he wasn't filming. Then again this is 911 so anything is possible. They're clearly reading our theories though so I'm not even sure if everything we're getting can be taken seriously. This got long, anon. I'm mostly just trying to tell you to not overthink everything. Which we're all going to do anyway so......

Thank you Nonny!

I have never watched Lone Star beyond episode 2, so I can't really comment on the first part of this ask.

As for the possibility of an AU episode? It's been done successfully before in other more 'serious' shows, so it can be done. I do think the 911 writers are clever enough to pull it off.

That magazine article is probably nothing. Someone over on Twitter found the stock picture that was used for that magazine. You can find it here. So in all likelihood it was just a prop magazine and the guy on the cover happened to look like Ryan. Who knows?

I agree that Ryan hiding his hand each time was very interesting. And the magazine picture was taken in the emergeny room. So, that might be something.

But yeah, we don't really know anything at this point. It's just a guessing game. Let's just enjoy the speculating and theorising and hopefully we'll get some good new bts content this week. Then we can obsess over something else yet again. XD LOL!

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[thaboah]

Bones and flowers!

I had and idea. This is my first fanfic and english isn't my first language. I'm sorry for all the mistakes.

Couple: Heimdall x modern!Reader

Summary: You're a witch, a modern witch. It's 2023 and all your friends call you crazy for still believing in magic. But you're sure as hell that you're going to have a 10 on the test tomorrow, all thanks to your spell. Maybe you were going to have a 10 but, wait a minute, this is not your room. Where the hell you are?

Warnings: Bad lenguage, Heimdall being Heimdall, female!reader, reader isn't very smart.

One more candle and it's done. You have finished the spell, tomorrow you're going to have a 10. All of your friends are going to be so jealous, and they will have to accept that magic is real. At least that is what you thought before going to sleep.

- Part 1: Where I am? -

I woke up on what at first I thought it was my room, then when I sat on the bed I saw. Something was clearly wrong. What the fuck? When my room had been cleaned? And where is my stuff? WHY IS EVERYTHING MADE OF WOOD?

My first reaction, I think it's the reaction that everyone would do in the same situation. Scream, I screamed like a child, while I was walking around the room trying to figure out if this was a kind of sick joke. Maybe somewhere in that place was hidden a camera.

I understand that I wasn't in any kind of joke when a woman show up, telling me to shut up. The woman was huge, she had long blond hair, and she was dressed with a blue dress. I can't say more about his aparience. In self-defense, I was scared as hell and I decided to pick the first thing I saw. It was some kind of cup with water. I didn't put to much attention on details, and I threw the cup at the mysterious woman.

— What are you doing?! — The woman yelled at me, maybe it wasn't my best idea. What follows, I think it's even worse. I ran away.

— Okay, Y/N, this shit is happening, some kind of creeps have kidnapped you. — I said to my self while i was looking for a way out. I saw a giant gate, so I tried to push it but it's heavy so it can only open a small gap which I went through. Where the hell I am? This is clearly not my house, not my city. I mean, this isn't even a city, this is a village.

The woman came out behind me, opening that door as if nothing had happened. She seemed very angry, but I decided not to stay to check it out.

— HELP! SOMEBODY, PLEASE HELP ME! — I began to scream with all my might, with tears of fear I witnessed the great wall that practically surrounded the entire city. There had to be a door, right? What kind of person builds a wall without a door?

The screams of the woman saying to go back there were already far away, she was beginning to think that she would get out of this. Although he still did not understand where he could be. Maybe in some kind of sect? Had sectarians kidnapped me? It didn't make sense, but at the time nothing seemed to make sense.

Before I wanted to realize it, I had collided face-first into the wall. I looked up, I definitely wasn't going to climb that wall, it was so tall, what kind of suicidal idiot would?

I had thousands of questions, but I couldn't stop running. At least my clothes were intact, for once I was glad to wear a tracksuit to sleep, instead of normal pajamas. If I couldn't cross to the other side of the wall, at least I wasn't going to stop.

Although I was beginning to get tired, I was not a very athletic person, only what was necessary and what was necessary had already exceeded its limit for a while. I got to what looked like some kind of corral and jumped over the fence, though I landed on my face.

I hadn't even processed what had just happened, I had just sat on the ground caressing my sore cheek, when I saw what looked like some kind of pissed off bull-lion. The universe had to be playing some kind of practical joke on me. That wasn't even a real animal!

I crossed my arms in front of my face to protect it and squeezed my eyes shut. I had already assumed that he was going to hit me, but I didn't even have the energy to dodge. It all got very strange when the blow started to take too long and the voice of someone approaching sounded in the distance.

— I've seen stupid mortals, but you, oh girl, you hit the jackpot. — I looked up to see a young man, wearing a strange outfit decorated with gold and various symbols. He was definitely in some weird kind of cult. He had never seen anyone wear something like that, not that it looked bad on him but it was weird.

— AaaaAAaaA — It was all that came out of my mouth, without leaving the ground I backed away as the unknown approached, I couldn't stop looking at his eyes and his hair, they were beautiful. Although again my head was unable to function. There were so many things to process, I was so confused and scared that when my back hit the fence the only thing I could think of was to pick up a broken stick that was next to me and point it at the man. — I don't know who you are but if you take one more step I'm going to-! — In fact, I didn't had a blunt threat. Hit him with the stick when he had a sword at his waist? Wait. WHY THE FUCK WOULD ANYONE CARRY A SWORD?

As he came closer to me, I gripped the stick even more tightly. Which was pointless because as soon as I bother him I just rip it out of my hand and throw it away.

— Are you so stupid that you don't even know where you are or who I am? — I shook my head, staring at him. Which he also did, he kept looking at my eyes, which made this the most uncomfortable situation in the world. She was desperate for an answer and for it to be correct. Although answering helped me, I said the first thing that came to mind while shrugging my shoulders:

— Madrid and you are from Madrid? — Maybe if I had paid more attention in class now I would know how to answer. The man seemed confused for a couple of seconds, but then, with a kind of anger that he tried to control. He lifted me by the shoulder and forced me to stand up.

The man began to walk as he spoke, I followed him without many other options:

— Stupid mortal, you are in Asgard and I am Heimdall, God of foresight. — I had long since stopped questioning things. If that boy wanted to be God of something, good for him. I followed him through the streets without saying anything.

— I'm not sure of what plans has Odin for you, but i'm sure you're going to be a big disappointment. —

Odin, where have I heard that name before?

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

Finished, hope you like it. And wish me luck, now I have an exam! Haha :)

Part 2

[wytchsbrew]

The first five months of Vash's pregnancy were a breeze.

Wolfwood spent the entire time thanking his lucky stars that his partner was having a wonderful time; he's glowing, he's happy, he's gaining weight, he finally had a little bump that he could touch, and everywhere they go, Vash was the first to happily tell everyone he was expecting their first child.

Wolfwood is in Heaven.

Then, month six hits, and something happens.

His bump becomes more prominent, he's feeling heavier, his hormones start going haywire, and Wolfwood sits at the forefront of the battlegrounds of his husband's war.

Vash's back hurts. Vash cries at the drop of a hat. Vash sometimes get grumpy and snappy in situations that never bothered him before. He felt uncomfortable, and didn't want Wolfwood to feel him up the way he'd been doing for quite a long time, and he was not interested in sex or anything of the like.

Of course, Wolfwood willingly did what he asked and gave him space, staying away from him when he didn't want Wolfwood all up on him, which was incredibly hard because month six looked so fucking good on Vash.

Never had another soul in the universe looked as breathtaking and attractive as his pregnant partner. His dark hair had grown longer, hanging over his forehead so he had to tuck it behind his ear, or pull it into a ponytail when he worked on something. A noticeable baby bump stretched the comfortable sweaters he chose to wear at all times during this slightly cooler season, housing Wolfwood's child. The glow of pregnancy visible to all who looked at him. The golden ring glinting on his left finger.

Basically, Wolfwood felt forced to watch his dream walk around, and never mention the insane things it did to him. It took everything in Wolfwood to not touch him, but, even moreso, it took everything in him to not beg him to simply feel better. He despised seeing him so miserable, and he wanted to remind him that everything is okay. They have everything they need, a beautiful home, each other, they are no longer fighting to survive, but...

A couple days prior, Wolfwood had caught wind of Vash's conversation with their neighbor as he took out the trash. He hadn't caught the first part of the conversation, but he heard Vash's soft voice as he eavesdropped.

"I feel unappreciated. I feel ugly. I feel miserable."

And that had caught Wolfwood so off guard, because... he thought he'd been a great husband thus far! He thought he'd done everything that was necessary of him. He'd run off right after that, radioing his friends in a panic.

That was how he ended up sitting at what equated to an interrogation room, surrounded by all the women in his life staring at him with near glowing, animalistic eyes, as he told them these exact thoughts.

And he wanted the ground to open up beneath him and eat him whole.

Because he'd had the audacity to ask, "Should I just... should I tell him everything is okay???"

"If you tell him that, I will break your face," Meryl said.

"You know I did not raise you that way, Nicholas," Melanie shook her head, looking so disappointed.

"You have no idea what his hormones are doing right now," Milly pointed out, popping a piece of bread into her mouth.

So, the consensus was, yes, he sucked as a husband, and a future father, and perhaps he should go back on the run rather than settle down in his home.

Lowering his head in shame, he whispered, "Okay, but what should I do? I want him to know he's loved, I don't want him to be miserable, I-" He clunked his head against the tabletop, wrapping his forearms around his face, a sadness he'd never experienced filling him until it overflowed all over the entire room.

This next part would be easier to say if the girls weren't staring him down.

"I just want Vash to know how much this means to me, how much he means to me," he whispered, staring at Melanie's tabletop. "I never thought I'd have this. I thought I'd die before I got to have a baby, or a husband, or anything, and... I get so overwhelmed with love when I just look at Vash, I don't know what to do-"

Arms immediately came curling around his body, pulling him close and hugging him tight. He recognized all of their touches. Milly's, strong on his body. Melanie's hands on the top of his head. Meryl, sitting on one of his legs and laying his forehead against his temple.

Slowly, he lifted his head from the table, and peered around at the women he loved so much.

"What do you think I should do?" he whispered. "I don't wanna fuck this up. I can't lose Vash. I can't lose my daughter."

The girls, then, all glanced at each other, mulled it over, and all of them, himself included, grabbed a piece of bread from the middle of the table, and ate in silence.

"Perhaps," Milly finally spoke up, "you should give Vash an entire, romantic day. Do all his favorite things. Make him feel so loved."

"Perfect!" Meryl snapped her fingers. "Yes! Then, when he's feeling good and happy, you can broach the subject of why he's been upset. Maybe it's something you can talk about with him!"

So, Wolfwood went home feeling a little more confused than before, but pointed in a direction. The girls were right, he had no idea what it's like to be pregnant, what Vash is going through emotionally.

Wolfwood knew one thing:

He wanted his pregnant husband to feel as perfect as Wolfwood thought he was, wanted him to feel appreciated, wanted him to feel loved. He set about his plan when Vash went out for the day with the girls - also part of his plan, of course.

He set forth everything. He cleaned the house. He went into town and bought Vash a brand new, big, fluffy cardigan, and sprayed it with Wolfwood's cologne - Vash's favorite smell. He picked up Vash's favorite local doughnuts. On the way home, he picked some random No Man's Land plants and flowers, and created a really strange bouquet.

He bought a big sign for their baby's nursery, too, and the store wood burned their baby's name into the pink sign: Livi Saverem Wolfwood. He hung it above the beautiful, brand new pink bassinet Melanie slipped to him before he'd left her house. Vash hadn't seen it yet.

He lit candles along the entryway, leading into the dining room, where Wolfwood cooked Vash's favorite meal, set it out on plates at their table, lit more candles, placed the flowers in the middle of the table.

And stepped toward the front door just as Vash was arriving back home.

Vash looked surprised to see him as he opened the door, looking beautiful in a big sweater that showed off his baby bump, and tight jeans that showed off the expanse of hips and ass that had grown during the pregnancy. His bright eyes glanced down at the cardigan in Wolfwood's hand, and then at the candles at their feet.

"Hey," Vash greeted, smiling bright, closing the door behind him. "What's going on here?"

"I have a few surprises for you." Wolfwood gathered him up in a quick, chaste kiss, relishing in the brief taste of him, before draping the cardigan over his body.

Vash snuggled into it and gave it a big whiff. "Ohhhh, it smells like you, I love it."

Wolfwood rightly ignored the way that made his heart feel, and instead, took his husband's hand and led him into the dining room. Vash immediately began touching the flowers, looking on the verge of tears as he lowered himself down at the table in front of his plate.

"Oh, Wolfwood," he whispered. "What is all this for?"

Wolfwood sat down in his own spot, and reached his hand across the table. Vash took it without hesitation, and he squeezed. "Just something for you, beautiful. Now, tell me all about your day."

Vash did. As they ate together, he talked happily about his time with the girls, all the while, pulling his cardigan closer around his body, and Wolfwood watched him. He never even looked at his own plate, eating blindly, unable to look at anything but his own breathtaking husband.

When they neared the end of their meal, Wolfwood pointed out the pile of Vash's favorite doughnuts, before taking his hand, and telling him, "I have one last surprise for you upstairs."

The second he opened the nursery door, Vash burst into tears, hands flying up to his mouth as he rushed over to the bassinet. Wolfwood watched him take it all in, watched his face lift up to the sign, where he just stared at it, one hand on his stomach, one hand over his mouth.

He stared for a long while, tears along his beautiful cheeks.

He stared so long, in fact, that Wolfwood began worrying perhaps he'd spelled something wrong, or maybe it didn't look as wonderful as he thought it did.

Slowly, he reached a hand out to his husband's shoulder. "Do you... do you like it?"

Vash glanced over his shoulder, watery blue eyes meeting his gaze. "That's our baby," he whispered. "It didn't feel real until just now, but that's... this is where our baby is going to sleep."

"Yeah." Wolfwood's body sagged with relief, and he couldn't help himself. He pulled Vash into a hug, curling his arms around him. "Thank fucking God you like it."

Vash peered up at him, suspicion curling in his gaze. "What's all this about, Nico? Is something going on?"

"Uhhh." Wolfwood swallowed hard. "Uhhh, well... I heard... what you said the other day, to our neighbor."

Vash tilted his head. "Hmm?"

"You told her you feel unappreciated and miserable and ugly," Wolfwood reminded him. "I've been obsessing over it ever since. I wanted to make you feel better."

Vash stared at him for a long while, brow furrowed, before a big smile spread across his face and he let out a high pitched, hysterical laugh. Right in Wolfwood's face. He laughed so hard, his baby bump lurched and pressed into Wolfwood's body, his chest heaved, his cheeks pinked.

He looked adorable.

It terrified Wolfwood.

Had he done something wrong again?

When the laughs finally died down, Vash curled his hands around Wolfwood's face and held him still. "Oh, my sweet, sweet Nico. My big, brave Wolfwood. My beloved," he sappily whispered. "You are the biggest idiot I know."

"Yes," Wolfwood slowly whispered, nodding. "But why am I an idiot right now?"

"You didn't catch the rest of that conversation," Vash leaned in close, body pressing hard against him. Closer than he'd clung to him in a couple weeks. "You see, she asked if I was handling my hormones well, and I told her no. That my brain was playing tricks on me."

Vash's finger began slowly moving swirls along the front of Wolfwood's chest.

"That I feel unappreciated, ugly, and miserable, when I shouldn't feel that way at all." His voice had dropped into something... else. Seductive. Hot. White hot. "I shouldn't feel that way at all, and she asked why, so I told her the truth."

Vash leaned up, and pressed a kiss to the corner of Wolfwood's mouth.

"I shouldn't feel unappreciated, because my husband does so much for me, and worships the ground I walk on."

Vash kissed his cheek.

"I shouldn't feel miserable, because I am the happiest man in the entire universe, that has ever lived, ever, just by waking up and seeing my husband naked in the kitchen."

Vash kissed the tip of his nose.

"I shouldn't feel ugly, because my husband has a huge dick that's constantly hard just for me. Isn't that right?"

One cool hand slotted along the erection pressing large against the crotch of his jeans. Wolfwood hissed, pressing his lips together - he hadn't felt Vash's hands on him in two weeks now - longer than they'd ever gone before.

He gulped, not wanting to say or do anything out of bounds for Vash's bodily comfort.

"That's right," he heard himself whisper tightly.

"So you did all of this just for me," Vash whispered. "Just to make me feel loved, hmm?"

Wolfwood nodded, his mouth as dry as the desert planet outside their windows.

"Well," Vash grinned. "I think you might have a little crush on me, Nicholas Wolfwood."

The hand on his dick now slowly moved back and forth, massaging and rubbing, cupping his balls in a tight grip Vash knew he loved. He felt his entire body trembling, growing near an orgasm within seconds.

Good, God. He'd never wanted his husband more, and it felt wrong, standing in the bright pink of their daughter's nursery, but...

"Vash," Wolfwood whispered, tightly, hand reaching down to grab at his moving hand. "I... I really want to fuck you so hard right now, but if you aren't comfortable with that, please let me know so I can go outside and chew through some wood."

The look on Vash's face screamed of heat and amusement. "Yes, I am more than comfortable with that. Wolfwood, please-"

Please. Please, he said like he was begging.

If possible, his dick somehow ached harder than before. Fuck, he couldn't wait a single second longer. He needed this - perhaps they both did.

Wolfwood picked Vash up off the ground, and turned them quickly, dropping his full weight on top of the heavy, wooden changing table Milly gifted them. Sorry, Milly, he thought, as he grabbed the comfortable, cotton pants Vash had been wearing lately, and ripped them clean in half at the crotch.

Exposing a dripping wet, red, swollen cunt just for him.

He unhooked his pants and grabbed his dick as record speed.

Wolfwood leaned forward, and gently slotted his inner elbows into the crooks underneath Vash's knees, spreading him wide, giving him ample room to shuffle forward, as Vash pushed himself closer to the edge of the table in tandem.

Their mouth met first in a heated crash and a vicious moan ripping from his own chest, and he fumbled fast, reaching between them to line up his thick, achingly hard cock with Vash's awaiting, soaking wet hole. Arms shaking with self control, he eased himself forward, into his body, the crown popping passed his entrance. The tightness almost whited out his vision, but he sucked on his teeth and continued sinking his thick length into a feeling and heat he could not describe in any of the words he'd been taught in his entire life.

And Vash lost it, his body writhed against the table, one leg clamping hard against his arm, desperate, huffing noises and moans and whispers of his name filling the quiet of the bedroom around them.

Absolutely downright enchanted, he broke away from the kiss and shoved himself the rest of the way, deep inside Vash's glorious pussy, lost and drunk in the feeling of his husband at long last. And he let himself see him fully beneath him.

His dark hair falling over his face messily did not hide the low lidded, eyelash lined bedroom eyes, nor the parted, swollen lips, forming his name over and over again in soft little mewls.

Vash had pulled his shirt up in their movement, too, revealing his stomach and his slightly softer breasts, swollen nipples. Things Wolfwood wanted to suck and grab and touch and worship.

He reached a hand out and closed it around one of those breasts, threading his nipple between his pointer and middle finger. It felt soft and plump beneath his hand, good.

Raving ecstasy smacked him faster than he expected, and he found himself unable to do anything - he slammed into him at a sickeningly steady, rough pace.

His cock thrust into him, pulling out and pushing back in completely, and he pulsed and warmed and tightened around him with every single thrust. Vash's moans seemed to reach a crescendo when he scooted forward ever so slightly, lifting his hips to make more room, and the head of his thick shaft knocked into something deep within him, that little place that made Vash scream his name.

"Fuck!" he cried. "Don't stop! I'm so-"

He slammed back into him with desperation. His full cock grew heavier, larger, the walls of his husband's core straining to accommodate his size, the crown slapping harshly against the glorious spot in a steady, unyielding rhythm.

Vash's shouts and moans were loud enough that there was no way the rest of the neighbors couldn't hear him, but he could not care at all, because his mind was only focused on one thing:

What he'd told the girls.

The amazement that this was his life now.

Sex with his pregnant husband, while they stood in their daughter's sweet, pink nursery, filled with gifts from their best friends, whom already loved their baby more than anything. In their home, their comfortable, safe home, filled with food and furniture and pictures and mementos.

If he could go back in time...

If he could find that little boy, sad and alone, in the clutches of the Eye of Michael, thinking of how he'd never have a future, he'd tell him about this.

He'd tell them how everything would one day be okay, and the wait for this would be far more worth it than he could imagine. He knew his child self would never believe it, but something about telling him healed a part of Wolfwood he hadn't known was broken.

How had that little boy, turned grown murderer, gotten so lucky to be looking down at his half naked husband and listen to cries of his name, because of how much he loved being with him like this?

Something about that tipped him over the edge.

He leaned in to catch Vash's gaping mouth as he felt the orgasm hit him before he could stall it, slamming deep into Vash and pulsing hot seed deep inside him.

Fuck.

"Shit, shit," he mumbled against his mouth. "Sorry, that was... way faster than I wanted-"

"That's okay." Vash pulled away to look up at him, looking happy and glowing. "Why don't you just go down on me for an hour, and we'll call it even, handsome? Since this is a day all about me, right?"

Wolfwood rolled his eyes, but dropped to his knees immediately, spreading Vash's thighs and watching the alluring sight of his cum dripping from that swollen cunt.

It looked delicious.

"How about two hours? You know, just to be fair."

[purlturtle]

For the Writers Truth or Dare ask game:

🕯 (candle - do you like editing)

⛸ (roller skate but I don't have that one on desktop 😢 - describe your latest WIP with 5 emojis)

🍦 (ice cream cone - name three good things about a character you hate)

Thank you for the ask, these sound like a great challenge! (full list here)

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

Starting strong - I gotta go all the way to my writing process here, to explain my reply of "a strong 8 - I do enjoy it a lot"

I never learned to write, as in, had a creative writing class, or part of German (or even second-language class)! More specifically, I never learned to draft. My first draft is very often already 80-90% of what will end up on the page, complete with all scenes, adjectives, names of secondary characters etc etc. My editing is mostly catching typos/grammar mistakes and swapping one word or phrase for another. Full re-writes of a scene, taking out a scene, starting a scene over: that happens during the writing process, for me, and even there it's rare. I think I re-ordered scenes once or twice in my entire writing "career"? (as in, this doesn't fit here, I'll cut and paste it somewhere else)

And so, the editing that I do is a clear servicing of my fic in order to make it better, and I always love to do that.

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis

Oh boy 😅 I'm currently on desktop too, and the number of emojis is wayyy to small for here. I'll post this when I've answered the third question, and then switch to mobile and edit in hopefully better fitting emojis!

Edit: okay here we go:

🏚️👰‍♂️🤵‍♀️😤🥰

🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate

Sheesh!! That one is hard. To start with, I don't hate a lot. Like, that word is so strong, it applies to *maybe* one character - and even there it's more of a "I strongly dislike this guy for his actions and motives but I appreciate that that is only because of his (very necessary) role in the narrative." So... let's go with a character that gives me the biggest eyeroll impulse:

Nate No-Last-Name from the Warehouse episode "Instinct"; Mister Blandy Milquetoast McBlandface. It's easy to mock him because he's obviously so ill-suited to being H.G. Wells' romantic partner - but she did choose him, so let's try and find good-faith reasons why.

he clearly loves his daughter very much, and does his best to be a good dad to her. And a lot of that is providing stability/reliability, which can easily be read as boring, but hey, an eight year old (or whatever Adelaide's age is in that episode) doesn't really need the kind of excitement that the artifact brings to their household, and certainly not on a weekly basis.

he equally clearly loves Helena as well. However much or little that is requited or based on any kind of truth, it is there. He's approaching her in good faith, he cares about her, he is trying to build something good with her.

he clearly provides something that Helena is seeking, be it consciously or subconsciously. Hell, a little bit of boring stability and reliability can be exactly what someone needs to get their feet back under them! I only ever read "playing house" being said very disparagingly, with a scoff and a head-toss, but Christ, don't we all need a break sometimes? Doesn't Helena, after all she's been through - all that the Warehouse and the Regents put her through?

I really do like "Instinct" a whole lot, as a character moment for Helena. As much as it hurts my shipper heart to see her in that beige suburban home, I can understand why she's there. And Nate is integral to that, just as much as Adelaide. Yes, he's clearly someone "good enough", someone "at least he respects me as an equal" - not someone you choose because passion has smashed you into their arms, but also, not someone with whom every day is a rollercoaster for emotions. It's like when you have an upset stomach: maybe the richest, tastiest, hottest of all foods isn't a good idea right now. Having bland stuff for a while will help you heal. Might be nothing to write home about, but has all the nutrients and does not aggravate.

Oh man, that turned out to be a long answer! Thank you for asking, that was fun!

[bloodiedrogue]

CONFLICTION

SUMMARY: Avis is good at killing, great even. So why does tonight feel different?

PAIRING: Loki Laufeyson & Original Female Character

WORD COUNT: 2,539

WARNINGS: Descriptions of murder and mild body horror.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, hopefully this chapter wasn't bad? I've been in such a shitty place when it comes to writing and I'm already not very confident in writing first chapters so :') Anyway, I know this has literally no Loki whatsoever but I promise in the next chapter he does make a (small, sorry) appearance!! I just needed to set some shit up first!

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST

-

MEETING NOTES APRIL 16TH, 2016

THOSE IN ATTENDANCE: TONY STARK, STEVE ROGERS, JAMES RHODES, NATASHA ROMANOFF, THE VISION, AVIS FINCH, ETHAN CAMPBELL, ISAAC LANE. 

STARK: Alright, Ghosty, you and your bandits have the floor. 

FINCH: Thanks, Tony. Okay, well, uh, first of all, thanks for hearing us out. I know you don’t have a lot of time on your hands, so, uh, yeah —anyway, we’re here today to discuss with you some intel we received on March 25th, 2016.

ROGERS: What kind of intel?

LANE: While touring in Reykjavik we were informed of a threat developing in the northern parts of Canada. An extremist group that goes by the name of REGEN. R-E-G-E-N.

FINCH: Essentially they’re a radical group of born-agains who believe in the eradication of mutants. [pause] During one of our missions we encountered one by the name of Linda Meekly. At the time she was undercover working under the pseudonym Sofia Petrov.

LANE: We discovered her body in the Jónsson household while sweeping the area post-altercation. On her person, there were two different items tracing back to said group such as a cell phone that we had Ethan decode and a tattoo on her left wrist. 

RHODES: What’s the connection with the tattoo?

CAMPBELL: The tattoo is of a pair of antlers.

RHODES: Antlers? Seems like a bit of a stretch.

CAMPBELL: Well, uh [pause] oftentimes antlers are considered symbols of regrowth. Regrowth being a word that’s typically synonymous with the term regeneration —hence the connection to the name REGEN.

FINCH: Basically, at the beginning that was our assumption. Regrowth equals REGREN equals the obvious born-again culture these individuals adopt. [pause] Then when we did some further research we found that Linda’s phone was riddled with pictures similar to the tattoo itself.

CAMPBELL: We included those in the case file for you to see. 

ROGERS: What else did you find on the phone?

LANE: A series of coordinates locating various group bases. Most are along the northern border of Canada —some to the west, but mostly east, as well as at least four along the coastlines of Greenland. 

ROMANOFF: Any in Iceland?

FINCH: Yes, the one in Reykjavik had one just twelve miles north of the Jónsson house.

STARK: Wait, why was Meekly at the house in the first place? 

LANE: According to an email sent to her brother just after four o’clock the same day, she was there trying to make a deal with Ketill Jónsson, a well-known, high-ranking member of HYDRA. 

ROGERS: Do you know what the deal was?

FINCH: At this moment in time we’re not entirely sure. Our best guess was that Ketill was on the fence about HYDRA’S recent plans. Seeing as HYDRA is a very active group when it comes to the process of mutating humans we’re assuming REGEN is against them in some way. 

ROMANOFF: A common enemy. 

LANE: Possibly. All we know for now, based on both emails and texts, was that Linda and Ketill knew each other previously, that she was there to speak with him, and that both of them died in an ambush carried out by SHIELD. 

STARK: Ambush?

THE VISION: Director Fury ordered a hit against the household after it was found they were withholding a powerful artefact. 

STARK: Artefact, which artefact? I didn’t hear about—

THE VISION: It’s [redacted], it gives the user the powers of [redacted].

LANE: We and the rest of our team were sent to retrieve it by any means necessary.

STARK: I see.

RHODES: So, what does all this have to do with us?

FINCH: Unfortunately the retrieval was deemed a failure. Four of our agents died and the [redacted] was not recovered. We’re here to try and make things right and explore all of our options. 

[group pause]

ROGERS: You think this REGEN group took it?

-

Avis’s skin feels like it’s melting.

Against the blaring heat of the shower head, she bites her bottom lip and continues to scrub, moving down her forearm in repeated motions. Hissing, she feels the surface of it sting, its glowing red aura reminding her that despite the pain, the circumstances of this shade are better than the last. That these raw splotches of pinks and reds are better than the crimson liquid of a dying man’s cough. 

Because even though his blood is long gone, the build-up of grime she feels beneath her skin will never wash away. Despite her deepest hopes, that feeling of Abner’s last breath against her skin will forever live within her lungs, holding onto her bronchioles each time she tries to find relief within the air. 

Like his predecessors, he’ll be added to the long list of men and women embedded into her body. The memory of his death —the way he clutched her throat against the ground, swearing about how he’d kill her before she ultimately did the same unto him— will forever stick to her like sap from a tree she knows will outlive her. 

For a while, she’ll see his face in everyone she meets, picking up on certain inflections and mannerisms. In crowded rooms she’ll see glimpses of him in the background, looming like he so often did. And at night, she knows he’ll surely haunt her dreams. His twisted face grinning beneath her blood-soaked body as he whispers all the secrets she never wanted to hear. 

Knowing this, she continues scrubbing, moving to the next arm with a sigh, hoping that the new location will provide some relief before the water runs cold and she’s forced to move his body. 

A crossroad she’s hardly excited to come to. 

Just the thought relinquishes a shaky breath within her. The kind filled with fear and guilt —the realization that if she doesn’t do this she’s screwed because her DNA is all over his carcass. The pads of her fingers, stained with his blood, are stamped all over his skin. Contrasting his paleness, every etch of her identity is tattooed against his throat. Seared into his chest. Blistering across his abdomen. 

So, if she leaves now, she’ll surely get caught.

Would that truly be as awful as it sounds?

It’s a thought that runs through her mind for quite some time. The possibility of it all playing over and over, each conclusion slightly different than the last. 

“What if I just gave up, hm?” she asks herself as she stops the running water and steps out, feeling a chill run up her spine because, yes, what if? 

What if, instead of continuing this plot alone she went and got help? It couldn’t possibly be that bad, right? Sure, she’s killed her fair share of people but obviously, all of them came with their reasons —stories filled to the brim with validities of her actions. 

For an easy example, Abner was a cultist. A stupid man hellbent on eradicating the existence of mutants. Every word that fell from his mouth was propaganda about how they were the enemy —how they were genetic failures sent to overthrow God and his people. There wasn’t a normal, well-functioning bone in that man’s body and it showed even in his last moments. 

Stepping out of the bathroom Avis glances at his lifeless body on the floor, giving it a tsk. If only he’d listened the first time. 

“I really did give you a chance, Abe,” she says out loud then, moving across the space with careful feet to grab her bag. Inside there are toiletries, a change of clothes and some equipment —cleaning supplies, rope, a saw, garbage bags etc. Things she often used on her missions when SHIELD’s help wasn’t readily available. 

Lazily, she grabs the change of clothes and begins to get dressed, ignoring the way Abner’s eyes stare blankly at the ceiling all dried out and wide from the air in the room, opting to focus on the texture of her underwear as she slides them over still damp legs. 

It almost makes her thankful that she’s alive to feel anything. The lingering presence of death still heavy on her mind. 

When Abner was suffocating her she could almost taste that sweet relief. That sensation of ultimate release. As she tried to gasp, she could feel it through the breathlessness of her lungs. The tightness in her chest filled up like a balloon on the verge of destruction. At that moment, everything inside of her felt like a cliff’s edge; the sudden thought to jump splayed across the inside of her mind. The craving for that last step as she lay underneath him, gripping onto his forearms becoming more and more apparent. 

By then, the darkness had already begun to envelop her. Like an old friend, it came to her aid when she needed it most, whispering in her ear that everything would be fine —that giving in was alright despite the job going on unfinished. Someone would surely pick up where you left off, the voice told her.

She wanted to listen. More than anything she wanted to produce a bloodied smile and just let go, but deep down she was just too stubborn. Too angry and persistent in her quest, so now she’s here instead, tiredly putting on her bra while the dead man next to her lives her dream. 

It’s unfair, isn’t it? That, in the end, such an evil person gets exactly what he wants. A fateful death at the hands of a mutant. How fitting. 

Rolling her eyes at the thought, Avis begins to move back to the bathroom, toiletries in hand as she angrily kicks Abner’s side, hoping to release some frustrations. 

“Maybe I should just cut you up and leave you here,” she mumbles, grabbing her toothbrush. “I could call your wife —pretend to be the police and leave before she shows up.” She uncaps the toothpaste, slathering a little bit on before shoving the brush into the side of her mouth. “Then she can have the pleasure of burying you instead of me.” 

It’s a tempting thought. One that often repeats itself each time Avis finds herself in the aftermath of a kill. A part of her knows it’d be fun to give in to her desires. To let loose a little bit despite knowing that the worst parts of herself come out then —the petty, frustrated ones that would rather risk getting caught than give her victims the satisfaction of being right. 

Most of the time in those moments she imagines what it’d be like to see the pain on their family’s faces, knowing that a mutant did this to them. Would it change anything? Would they be scared to see the lifeless body of their fallen comrade? Or maybe relieved? 

It’s a question she often wonders each time she disposes of the body. As she kneels in motel rooms under dimly lit lamps and cell phone flashlights, taking apart each target piece by piece, her mind drifts to places far from the flesh in front of her. Places of quiet contentment; of comfort and joy and—

She spits into the sink, a small ache flowing through her as she turns on the faucet to wipe everything down. In silence, she sticks her brush under the cool water, running her thumb mindlessly along the bristles before tossing it aside with a sigh, opting to forgo deep cleaning the basin as she moves back into the room to start setting everything up.

-

To the average person, decapitating a body is excruciating work. To Avis, it’s just a few annoying steps between the kill and a well-deserved good night’s sleep. 

In fact, on average, she can tear apart the body of a target in four hours flat. From set up to tear down, she’s meticulously perfected the entire process —every movement flowing into the next. So much so she doesn’t even have to think of what comes next. 

When performing, her mind is like an empty vessel, giving room for her hands to beat and cut and—

Tonight though, she feels a wave of exhaustion flowing over her. Her thoughts once shoved to the back of her mind, run rampant at the forefront, making it hard for her to focus on the cutting of the saw. In her hand, she can feel it constantly slipping between her fingers each time she rakes it across the column of Abner’s half-open stomach. Its handle feels strange as she wiggles her digits and swears under her breath, trying her best not to think because to properly sit with the results of her actions, she has the shove the image of Abner’s deconstructed body into a box somewhere. She needs to act on routine. To take the hammer then the saw then the bags. 

Bash, slice, store, repeat. 

Instead of imagining the consequences she needs to turn back to her motivations. Why does she do this? Who is she doing this for? What will happen when she finishes this? 

Normally, it’s an easy enough task to complete, but tonight something’s off. Something subtle that makes her stomach twist each time she hears the usual sounds of the world. She can feel it penetrating her ability to work. Any time there’s even the tiniest hint of life outside her door she finds herself pausing. 

“I’m probably just imagining things,” she has to keep telling herself. “I did all the usual steps. I made sure we were hidden.” 

After every limb cut, instead of forcing herself to continue like usual, she takes small breathers, knowing that tonight it’s necessary. She can’t work under the conditions of self-distress, despite her obvious impatience. She needs to slow down —to stand and stretch and breathe because if she doesn’t, she runs the risk of getting caught.

Which is an odd thing to think about now that she’s killed more than the average person. No longer is the act itself something she ponders. Now it’s the conflict. The back-and-forth feelings of wanting to do what’s right versus knowing that getting to that point is wrong. 

Deep down, she knows she’s a fucking hypocrite. Your classic case of comic book vigilante who does everything right for the wrong reasons. The blood on her hands isn’t deemed worthy of her effort. The blood caked beneath dirtied nails that scratch at wicked skin is nothing but a nuisance in the eyes of both sides and she knows it. 

That’s why she has to keep going. 

So she does. With a sigh, despite the exhaustion, Avis picks up where she left off, gripping the saw as tightly as possible. Against her palm, the handle moves with ease, sliding further down flesh and bone with each pass until Abner’s completely deconstructed and tucked away in small bags. 

Despite the uncomfortable context, it still feels like an accomplishment to stare down at her work. Each bag tied and packed away for safekeeping. It means the worst is over, signalling Avis’s tired grin as she rubs her eyes and continues. 

Just as efficiently as the task before, she packs up her things, barely bothering to organize, knowing she doesn’t have much time.

The sun is nearly rising and she’s just managed to finish up, meaning that she has about an hour to make it to the safe house.

-

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[chromonym]

hi

wanna write for a while about something you love? or just find interesting? it'd be fun to read

genuinely difficult to decide what to talk about bc i have so many things uhhhhhhhh let’s do OneShot. i’ll try to avoid spoilers for this first bit.

OneShot is one of, if not my absolute, favourite games of all time. the story can and will absolutely break you, and even though it’s been years since i’ve played it i still miss Niko (the main character).

the gameplay itself is… eh, let’s be real, it’s an rpgmaker game with no combat. at the very least there are some quite interesting puzzles - nothing overly difficult, but their main purpose isn’t that. they serve to immerse you (for want of a better word) in the game.

the immersion and the story are the absolute highlights, although again ‘immersion’ might be the wrong word to use. i’m trying to word this without spoilers in case you or anyone else reading this hasn’t played the game, but you’ll be able to tell within the first few minutes of gameplay what i’m talking about. for similar reasons, i’d recommend the steam version over the console version (‘world machine edition’) despite the latter having quite a few quality of life improvements.

the story, aided by the ‘immersion’, can and will make you cry. i played the game after watching a playthrough (something that i would strongly recommend against!), and i still cried over it. it’s pretty simple, your job is to guide Niko to the centre of the world of OneShot to replace its “sun”, a giant lightbulb. well, okay it’s not really that simple there’s some other things that become apparent right near the end. :)

also, the Solstice route (think of it as a new game plus) will ruin you emotionally in a completely different way! if you haven’t played it yet, say hi to Rue and TWM for me.

oh also the music is great and certain tracks (pretty, i’m here, thanks for everything, etc) still make me emotional

but i’m not done. only look under the cut if you’ve played the game, and if you haven’t, go play it!!!

so: SPOILERS FOR ONESHOT (not including Solstice).

the funniest thing about OneShot is that it’s just a glorified trolley problem. with the main difference, of course, being that the entire game has been setting you up to have Genuine Emotional Investment in it, and it. fucking. works.

i absolutely love the way that it does this, too. throughout the tutorial area, you kind of expect to be playing as Niko - that’s how it is in almost every other rpg, after all. but immediately after you’ve made this assumption, the game refers to you and Niko separately - and it says your name before you’ve even had a chance to input it. (this is also part of why i recommend steam over console, because this is a lot more unexpected there)

this is then expanded upon when you meet prophetbot, who gets Niko to talk to you directly! you then kind of get to know Niko through these chats (as well as Niko talking to other characters in the game), which makes the final decision so much worse. they’re just a kid.

the meta puzzles are quite fun (and again another reason that i recommend computer over console), but saying they immerse you in the game world isn’t exactly right - they immerse the game world in reality. they, along with things like Niko talking directly to you, utterly demolish the fourth wall while simultaneously bringing direct attention to it. obviously there’s still a necessary amount of suspension of disbelief, but you can almost imagine that the program OneShot is an actual simulation of a digital world undergoing corruption.

i also love the tower sequence, because of what you can’t do in it. you can’t talk to Niko. it’s a very simple limitation, but it’s absolutely fucking destroying given that you’ve been able to for the entire rest of the game. and even though you’re still in full control, it feels like you’re not.

and then! once you are finally able to speak to Niko again! you need to tell them that the entire journey has been for naught and you can’t save both them and the world at the same time! look, there’s a reason that the song Pretty (the one that plays in the final elevator ride) is in a playlist of songs that make me emotional.

god i fucking love this game so much

(i’ve decided that i’m not going to write anything about Solstice because. i don’t think i can do it justice. just play it. you’ll know.)

[prettyboykatsuki]

hi fang i've been following you for a while but i don't think i can remember you talking about preforming oral on amab people so i was wondering if you had any tips or pointers? only if it doesn't make you uncomfortable! or if you don't know that's okay too. thanks :)

hi!

ill be honest, don't know if im the best for advice on this. i have definitely sucked dick before lmao and ive been told im good but my sexual history is mostly afab folks so im a lot more confident in those abilities which seems. backwards when i think about it too long but that's okay

but i do think sucking dick is simpler because all dicks are relatively the same in terms of like what feels good. everybody is diff of course but there's not as much to worry abt imo

first off, with anything foreplay is key. kissing up the shaft and long licks up it are great. cupping the balls gently and massaging them both before and during tends to feel good - don't be too forceful since its sensitive.

in general, please don't worry about deep-throating. ESPECIALLY IF UR UNUSED TO IT. i think this tends to be what makes people anxious but it's not necessary like. at all to give a good blowjob. it can be something you work towards (and if you really want to or are curious, press down on your thumb w ur fingers it gets rid of my gag reflex entirely) but it's not necessary.

generally - you'll want to focus sucking on and around the head. use your hands for the rest of the shaft / what you can't get to. stick your tongue out and try to be mindful of your teeth (this is one of those things that will get easier with practice, but sucking in your lips and cheeks to cover your teeth as you give head will prevent contact. not sure how else to explain it) pressure will depend on the person. i think just enough so that your not easily like pulled off is usually fine

it needs to be SLOPPY in general. a lot of spit is your friend and the more there is the better. drooling and being a little messy is going to happen. your giving head not serving face so dw about it. make sure u stick ur tongue out for like coverage

the frenulum is the most sensitive part generally. using your tongue on it. it's about an inch under the head where the skin sort of meets. pay attention to it and focus the sucking on there. wrap your hands around the shaft w a bit more pressure + plenty of spit

other tips are pretty straight forward. eye contact and enthusiasm in any sexual scenario is your friend so utilize it. it can be a little strenuous so if you need a break, play with the balls or just use your hands. some people need to fuck your mouth a bit to get off but that doesn't mean ur throat so a little shallow thrust will b okay.

don't stop as they start to cum, but during and while. like riding out the orgasm basically. u dont have to swallow but if you want to, relax your throat and take it deeper so you dont have to taste it.

im probably missing some stuff but this is what comes to mind first on how to give a good blowjob / what stuff is important and has gotten people to cum from head

hope this helps a bit!!! people feel free to chime in the replies

[softquietsteadylove]

Hi, I am missing the Mr. And Mrs. Lee AU >< this is a very angsty request. Maybe you can write the part of the confrontation scene but a little different. Thena trying to fulfill the mission even though she already fell in love with the mission (him), but Gil never reciprocated the attacks Thena inflicted to him because he would never lay a finger on her. Thena's mad at him for doing that, she's desperately shouting him to fight her back, but Gil just can't. And when Thena already had the perfect opportunity to kill him, Gil just said with no hesitation that she can do it and it's okay. But of course she didn't.

And we all know what happened next after that...scene, right? But what about we change it? I think having some soft at the same time emotional moment instead of spice after this angsty scene would be good. We'd love to see a lot of comfort, them just holding each other in their apartment that now has broken doors and walls with bullet holes in it.

THANK YOUUU SO MUCH, LOVELY!!!

The house is a disaster. It looks like an entire team of assassins has torn through the place, when really it's just a husband and wife. Well, a wife--Gil couldn't raise his hand even once after finding out it was her on the other end.

Thena stares at him, her hand shaking so much it rattles the weapon she has pointed at him.

His hands are still up, palms out to her. He isn't looking down the barrel at all, just up at her with those eyes he knows can make her melt. "It's okay, Sweetheart."

She glares at him. He doesn't get to call her that now. He should be thinking of her as the enemy. "Don't."

"It's okay," he repeats, and slides his eyes closed as if he's lying down for a nap after a few beers while watching the game. He lets out a slow sigh, and it sounds the same as when they're going to bed together after a long day apart. "You've got it. Take the shot."

She tries. She tries to make herself take the shot and fulfill the mission she's had for the last five years of her life. The mission she was told was a life or death situation, it never being more important for her to maintain her flawless success rate.

But the mission changed. Somewhere along the way, he wasn't only the Mission; he became just Gilgamesh. Gil was sweet, and charming, and friendly in a way she had almost never encountered in her life before him. Then Gil was a pretty good date. She was used to having to play any part necessary, be that the blushing virgin, the seductress, the cold bitch. But Gil was himself, and somehow he had tricked her into being herself too.

Now he's Gilgamesh Lee, and he's a great home cook, and he likes beer but he hates red wine, and he's handy with home repair but he can't identify the difference between paint shades to save his life. He's Gil, and he brings her flowers for her birthday, and he lets her drive because she gets carsick as a passenger. He's her husband of four years, and they've built an entire life together.

And she has burned it to the ground in a single night.

"Dammit!"

Gil watches as she tosses the weapon aside, and sinks to the floor. She curls right up, which is her go-to posture; it protects her, makes her feel more secure. She hugs her knees to her chest.

"Baby?"

"Don't," she practically whimpers into her lap, balled up like a child in the face of her life choices. This is pathetic; she's a top agent, one of the deadliest in Eternal Agencies. And here she is crying like a fool over her first love.

Gil sighs, moving over to her on what remains of their polished hardwood floors. "C'mere, hot stuff."

She should be trying to kill him. She should be fighting and clawing at him to regain the upper hand. Just because she decided she couldn't take the shot doesn't mean she can give up on the mission completely.

Gil lets her curl up on his lap, pressing her tears into his - dislocated, and then re-located - shoulder. He grunts, but bears it as he wraps his arms around her. "Easy, Sweetheart, I've got you."

Thena presses her face harder against him, muffling her agony as she wails into him. She hasn't cried like this in...maybe ever. Maybe she's never felt anything like this, but she supposes Gil has made a habit of unearthing feelings she thought she had cut out of herself.

He rubs her back, presses kisses to her temple. Their home is crumbling around them and he spent the last hour trying not to get assassinated by her, but now he's holding her as if she's had a bad dream after a thunderstorm.

Thena tries to build up her walls again. She tries to think about the house structure, how she can get away and regain the high ground on him. She tries to think about where she tossed that weapon, or which door frames still have her knives lodged in them.

But all she can think about his her husband, holding her in his arms, safe from anything and everything, including the omniscient reach of a man called Father. These are arms which held her after their fifth date, in an apartment she procured just so they could go somewhere after dinner. These are arms which held her against his side in a gondola, and then held her that same night after proposing. This embrace is the only place she has ever felt safe enough to truly banish her other thoughts from her mind and just be Thena.

Missus Thena Lee.

Gilgamesh whispers and coos in her ear as her sobbing subsides slowly. He holds her trembling form against him, offering all he can when they've already been worn to the bone by life and its complications. "Sweetheart?"

She groans into his shirt. "Stop calling me that."

She can hear the smile in his voice. "Why?"

She stays buried against him. She doesn't even want to look at the house, right now. "You want the full list?"

Gil chuckles, running his fingers through her hair. "You're still my wife, Thena. Nothing about tonight changes that."

Fuck. He always knows exactly what to say to make her want to throw herself to the ground and beg him to love her for just one more day.

"Nothing changes that," he repeats in a whisper as she clings to him so tightly her nails dig into him. "Unless you're about to ask for a divorce, in which case I change my mind about putting up a fight."

He also knows how to make her laugh at truly the worst times. "Gil, I'm serious."

"Yeah," he lifts his head and looks around them, "I'd say it's pretty serious, Honey-Bun."

Such cutesy pet names; she once tried to convince herself that they were off putting and that she hated them. It didn't last long. They're cliche and embarrassing and she loves each and every one of them.

Thena lifts her head too, unable to avoid looking at the massacre of their home. A few shreds of wood fall to the floor as if they're paid actors. "Really did a number on the place, hm?"

Gil shrugs as if she's asked if he knows what the weather will be tomorrow, "I'm sure I could make some progress in here if I took some time off work."

Thena thunks her head against his chest again. "Work."

"Sorry," he apologises and presses a kiss to the top of her head. "We don't have to think about that now."

They will sooner or later, though. Both of them will, given all that they've learned in the past 36 hours.

"We'll figure it out," he says so definitively.

Thena looks down at her tattered and shredded dress. She looks at Gil's ripped and burned suit. She sighs, "they're going to call a domestic disturbance on us."

"Yeah, I guess I wouldn't blame them," Gil murmurs, shaking out his jacket and letting the bullets that got caught in its reinforced lining clatter to the floor. He lays it over her shoulders. "You hungry?"

Thena lets out an even longer, even louder sigh. She feels like she could throw up. "Starving."

Gil groans as he hauls himself to his feet. "Fridge is a little beat up, but I'm pretty sure there are a few eggs left."

"Scrambled?" Thena looks up at him from her miserable quarry on the floor, "with cheese?"

He leans down to kiss her, letting her hand rest on his cheek no matter how much he has to twist his neck. "I know what you like."

"Thank you," she whispers, hoping to memorise every line and feature of his face in case the next 36 hours also go to shit. She listens to the sound of him prying open the dented fridge door, pulling out the eggs, finding a pan that doesn't have bullet dents in it. She loves listening to him cook. "Baby?"

"Yeah, Hon?"

Thena smiles to herself. He's right, they will figure it out, and he is her husband; nothing about tonight changes that. "I love you."

"I love you too, Thena."

[estevnys]

1,2, 9, 31, & 35 for ophielora plsss

BG3 Act 1 Asks

HEHE THANK YOUUU ilysm

(1) Tell us about your Tav! Name, class and subclass, race, pronouns. Do you have a headcanon for where they're from? Their family? Are they a Dark Urge? Or did you choose an Origin Character? Was it an easy decision?

okay if im being honest i am a BIT SCARED of the dark urge so i haven't made one yet. i went straight for an original tav for my first playthrough her name is ophielora. she is a circle of the land druid, though i do think if we expand out to like. "official dnd" classes, she might be circle of stars instead she is not from baldur's gate, my headcanon is that she was just in the city for a few days trying to "find herself" and "learn things" when she gets picked up by the mindflayer ship (just her luck). she is actually from from a large stretch of woods nearby-- the wood of sharp teeth. while she is definitely not a werewolf, her circle's perferred forms are unusually wolves and other carnivores. she also refers to her family as her "pack."

she has two "happy" parents-- one of them being a human archdruid and her mother being a creature called a hamadryad who is. . . an interesting character. her father is your classic druid elder, who, after being blessed with a child from the great oak they worship, was kind of put entirely in charge of raising her. she has a lot of her dad's mannerisms, but a bit of weirdness of being from a non-human bloodline. her family also has some type of connection to mielikki, daughter of sylvanus and goddess of the hunt. she is a life cleric for the build in game but i dont think she's actually that religious.

she sometimes says or does weird things that a "civilized" person would not. nakedness doesn't bother her, neither does being in animal form for long periods of time. she also is. . . incredibly unlucky and awkward. she often says the wrong thing at the wrong time. but! she is VERY friendly. she is the type of person that can & will talk to anyone and everyone. she is kind, to an aggressive degree. it's a bit of naivity, which she grows out of, and a bit of "i want to be good. i want to be so good it hurts"

she looks like this!!!

(2) Was there something about the character creator that just couldn't capture your Character? Please tell us about their hair, facial hair, tattoos, piercings, disabilities, their trans or intersex body, or anything else you're comfortable sharing

HEHE.... HRMMM okay i think it captures her Pretty well? i do think she should have little pointy teefs. i think also she has a few more piercings than just her nosering, all of them main from animal bones. her hair is a strange mix of red and blonde, likely due to her dryad blood, but she likes it! she wears it in a high ponytail braid combo. i imagine she spends a lot of time braiding/weaving flowers and branches in her hair. for a while i had her wearing a little circlet which i think is cute <3

she is a bisexual cis female! i don't think she's particularly curvy or anything, probably more on the skinny/flat-chested side of things. she is very short hehe. probably around 5'2", which makes for a lot of dropped jaws when her dire wolf form is like twice to size of her human form.

(9) Do you have a favorite member of the Tiefling Refugees? Is it the same as your Character's?

i loooove rolan i spin him around in my head. i think ophie and alfira get along very well! ophie lovessss to dance <3

(31) Does your Character have new or old phobias or superstitions that affect their story?

okay i LOVE this question even though i don't know the answer. i think she is VERY careful to speak to every animal she sees. she also believes that like. undead things are very necessary for the circle of life? i think its part of why she's so fine with astarion being a vampire.

i think she has a bit of a guilt complex like... she has such terrible luck she gets trapped a lot in these like. . . depressive episodes? she (and her mother) call them her "winters". she feels like she must being doing SOMETHING wrong to feel like this, and so she tries to counteract that with being Forcibly Good at every opportunity she can.

(35) Has your Character done anything that they regret in Act 1?

I MAY HAVE PRESSED THE WRONG BUTTON AND LAUNCHED THE GNOME THAT WAS STUCK TO THE WINDMILL HALFWAY TO BALDURS GATE AND IT IS TOTALLY CANON TO OPHIE'S STORY. SHE THINKS ABOUT IT ONCE A DAY :(

she also feels a Bit Bad about killing all the goblins in the camp

[brekker-by-brekkerr]

You know what I find hilarious, is how all these gicky fans/ricky fans keep coming to your asks defending Ricky when they keep hating on EJ for all the things he did. Like if you want to go after EJ fine, but then look at your fave too. Stop being so biased. Very rarely I've seen gicky fans be more open to accepting that yes Sofia and Joshua have chemistry (and I was a rin@ myself in season 1 and I still like their chemistry although I don't ship them anymore) there is no denying that. But them being the best slow burn in the show and Ricky really upping his game and genuinely deserving a relationship with Gina imo is a far stretch when there have been others who have been there for her more than Ricky has ever been. Not saying this from a shipping POV, just as a friend.

Truth is Gina is a doormat for Ricky. She will forgive him for everything he puts her through as long as he picks her. That's all she wants (I'm saying this more from whatever ensued in S3) and unfortunately EJ was never "that guy" for her, the guy who she would keep trying for. She gave up on him, he didn't. He couldn't make time for her but he didn't want a break up. Even if all this happened at East High, she would always break up with EJ for Ricky because unfortunately she likes the guy who doesn't deserve her. I feel this from the Gina we saw in S3. But if we go by S2 Gina I feel she'd probably evaluate her relationship with EJ and not break up with him. She seemed to see him for who he was and genuinely felt like he tries his best even if he fails a lot. And that Gina was nowhere to be seen in S3. She felt different. And seemed to put herself first, which isn't very Gina 2.0 of her. And unfortunately the writers cannot keep the characters consistent and to get gicky to happen they imo changed Gina and made such contrived issues between PW, which S2 PW would've fixed. Even the part where EJ doesn't go as her date to the prom in S3 seemed ooc for him, S1 EJ would break the rules and go with her, maybe even S2 EJ, he always seemed to go the extra mile for Gina.

Another note, Ricky gets too many free passes from this fandom and I really dislike it. He's quite unlikeable as a character, especially after the way he seems to be so dependent on others, every season he "needs" a partner one way or another. Someone like Ricky needs therapy/counselling, not a relationship.

Sorry just had to rant somewhere. I'll always be upset how they handled the ships here with poor writing and seems that no relationship lasts longer than a season. And Gina was my favourite character, but with the way the writers have messed her up I don't think I even wish to follow upcoming seasons.

R*nas dni

Thank you so much for this ask!! I don't understand their need to argue with people who use the anti tag. Why can't we have our differing opinions? Especially if they're going to destroy one character with much more understandable actions and defend someone who has objectively done much worse.

Yeah, Gina and Ricky have great chemistry. But having great chemistry doesn't necessarily make a good relationship. It makes them interesting to watch for sure and chemistry is obviously necessary but the writers haven't matched that chemistry with anything compelling writing-wise.

"But them being the best slow burn in the show and Ricky really upping his game and genuinely deserving a relationship with Gina imo is a far stretch when there have been others who have been there for her more than Ricky has ever been."

This yes completely agree.

I think in season 2 Gina was good about eventually verbalizing to Ricky that his behaviour was not okay and was able to stand up for herself, which is why it's frustrating to see them getting together with little work in between on Ricky's part. also, them being the ultimate slow burn thing isn't really true because Ricky just suddenly decides he likes Gina and that's that and we don't have him slowly realise he's been an idiot this entire time and realise all he has done wrong and verbalise that, and we don't get to see Gina slowly warm back up to him. we don't see him understand the way he runs to relationships instead of dealing with his problems. he sings "finally free" and that's supposed to just be him dealing with everything in a three-minute song and that's not satisfying. because Gina gives the speech (which makes no sense for so many reasons), we don't know how Ricky actually feels. did he like her before this season? was he repressing his feelings? how is he going to prove he's going to show up and how is he going to prove she's not just a third choice to him?? I was thinking about this the other day, like how r*na could have been done well. the chemistry is there. they needed to fix some things and handle portwell in a respectful way but instead here we are.

i agree with you anon about all of this like the way the fandom excuses Ricky and the way gina and EJ should work (and it's more than their couch scene, as I've seen some r*nas say is our only excuse for everything. that whole season is a love letter to how well they work together. think about the camera scene when EJ is the first person to genuinely listen to her--especially in comparison to ricky in that season, who always ends up talking about his problems but not Gina's--or them working together to come up with a cover story on the fly or him showing up with a granola bar just when she needed it most; they're so in sync with each other and they understand each other so well and stars people don't have to like it but to pretend they have nothing?? i see people saying they would rather have had jack and gina get together than EJ and gina and I'm like you hate EJ with her that much?? considering all that EJ has done for her do you hate Gina?? yeah jack was sweet but that was one episode of them hanging out lol).

don't be sorry for the rant!! i welcome it and i completely understand. it's frustrating. I'm here for you friend <3