#sorry for more overly-sappy rambling

[flying-fangirls]

Not to be an English major, but my genuine favorite part of Malevolent is how it handles its themes. Overall Malevolent tackles such profound and interesting ideas to chew on, but it's specifically the approach it takes to those ideas that really gets me going.

For example, one of the major themes across several seasons and characters is identity. The podcast asks pretty standard questions like "How do you define yourself?" and "How do others define you?" But it doesn't choose to stop there! It constantly expands on that idea, and it also asks things like "Which of those definitions is the 'real' you?" and "Are any of them right, are any of them wrong?" and "Is there even a singular definitive version of you?"

Malevolent works out from one idea and poses all these rich lines of discussion and questioning, and then just. Doesn't provide an answer! Or, at least, not a single, one-size-fits-all answer. Instead, it gives us multiple possibilities:

John's arc tells us that your identity is what you make— what you say, what you decide— and no one else's definition of you matters. Arthur's arc tells us that you can get stuck in a rigid, self-deprecating personal identity, so you need others' perspectives to help you see and love the real "you." Larson's story tells us that you do not have the right to selectively accept/deny parts of your identity and actions, and that others can see the whole of "you" whether or not you take accountability for it. Noel's story tells us that you can choose what parts of your past define you, and that leaving behind all the other versions of yourself can be beautiful and empowering. Kayne's story tells us that leaving behind other versions of yourself is akin to murder, killing off the pieces that you don't like and pretending like you've evolved past your own self. Yellow's arc tells us that your identity is fluid and can easily be influenced or manipulated by what others tell you, and by that point you've changed your own self-definition to something entirely new that can be just as true or untrue as the old you.

With all of these characters and with every other character throughout the show, we get a unique answer to the question "What is identity?" And if you look further at all the characters, you can break down their different arcs over the seasons and find even more answers just within that one character's development and story. And some of the answers we get correspond, and some of them contradict, and none of them are the right answer, and all of them are the right answer.

Malevolent takes one idea, and then it crafts an incredibly nuanced and humanistic exploration of said idea that adapts with respect to whatever situation or character it is applied to. And it uses this approach with all of its themes: identity, morality, guilt, grief, love, hope, etc.

Malevolent knows that life is messy, that people are complicated and contradictory and diverse and ever-changing, that no part of the universe or humanity can ever be explained or defined in a simple manner. Malevolent knows all that, and it wants to help us understand that too.

Malevolent shows us that nothing can ever be easily understood or answered, and it shows us that that fact is beautiful.

[zenkindoflove]

Thank you <3

Now that Pull Me in Deeper is over, I wanted to take some time to thank a lot of people. Writing and posting this fic has been an amazing experience for me. It has changed me as a writer in so many ways, and I couldn't have done any of it without the support of so many people along the way.

(warning: overly emotional sappy rambling. I'm sorry if I forgot someone!!! to be honest, so many people have been supportive of me and popped in and out of this experience and you all have left an impression)

First, I wanted to tell you guys a little bit about my experience writing this fic.

I had never written Canon x OC before I created Alexius in Summer Heat. I've primarily been an OTP fic writer, focusing on one couple per fandom that I would fixate on. When I started Summer Heat, I really wanted to explore as a side story of Eris in a relationship, and for me, the only person who kept popping up was someone like Alexius. Summer Heat was a safe zone to play around because I got to develop him and his relationship with Eris while still focusing on Elucien. When Summer Heat was over, I got the idea to write Pull Me in Deeper because I wanted to explore whether Eris x Alexius would be able to carry their own story on their own, and I wanted to challenge myself by writing a fic that mostly contained original characters.

There was a lot about this experience that was new and challenging. Writing only Canon x Canon ships and those that were really popular in fandoms did not prepare me for some of the trials and tribulations that come with writing Canon x OC fics. You often feel like you are on your own island, separate but adjacent to the fandom. You hope that people on their boats passing by will stop and visit you. Maybe stay a while. Sometimes, I will admit, I felt lonely, especially in the early days of writing this story. I went from a very built in community of shippers who loved the ship for the ship and we could squee together about how adorable our OTP was - to basically trying to convince people that Alexius was a worthy partner for Eris and worth taking a chance on reading about him. So I gained a whole new respect for the Canon x OC parts of the fandom, and I'm happy I can count myself among you now.

To say it frankly, I've grown so attached to Alexius and his relationship with Eris over these last several months. He is very real for me now. You really can't spend this much time living inside of a character's head and being committed to their HEA and not adore them. Not only is he a representation of so many people in this world that I love, but he also has given me so much confidence in my ability to create original characters. In the past, when I have sat down and tried to writing original fiction instead of fanfiction, what always held me back was creating characters that felt like real people. After Alexius, I feel sure now I know how to do that, and for that, Alexius will always be my baby. Please know, as long as I'm writing ACOTAR fanfics, Alexius will be in them and there will be more in store in the future for Eris x Alexius centered fics (more than there already are lol). Eris x Alexius is my Eris OTP and now that I have the Eris bug, I won't be stopping.

Okay now to shoutout some specific people:

@crazy-ache - You have always been there for me in every stage of my ACOTAR fanfic writing process. Thank you for telling me early on, when I felt guilty for this fic expanding so much and taking so much of my focus, that it was okay for me to branch off in this direction and leave Elucien on the shelf for a while. I really needed to hear that then. And thank you for always being up for reading my first drafts, brainstorming through scenarios and plot, and just being my cheerleader. I love you, and I really cannot ask for a better writing partner and friend.

@lucienarcheron - The very first time I ever had the instinct to write Eris with an OC, I ran to you for advice. You trekked this path long before many, many people, and you have been instrumental in me taking a chance. Especially seeing all the hard work and focus you've put into Spirit Meets the Bones really inspired me to want to write an Eris x Alexius solo fic. So thank you so much for being an Eris x OC mentor of mine.

@thrumbolt, @works-of-heart, @bonecarversbestie, @little-fierling - Thank you so much for creating fanart either of Eris x Alexius or inspo from this fic. You all have also been such amazing commenters on the fic itself, leaving insightful, smart, and hilarious feedback. It's so rewarding to have readers who are driven to create based on something you made. And it really helped me in times when I've been down or unsure of myself, that there were people out there who thought enough about my fic that it inspired creativity in them.

@olenvasynyt - your long comments and even longer voice notes that you've left me in DMs have been such a treasure. I especially love the head canons and little snippets you have shared with me about your own Male OC that you have created for Eris. It's such a small community that we are in, and I really can't wait to meet him too. I love that we both have such a strong love for the Autumn Court and creating OCs.

There was quite a few people who started reading PMID because they were familiar with my Elucien fics and got to know Erixius in Summer Heat. I really appreciate all of you who migrated over and decided to go on this adventure with me!

I also had a group of people who really surprised me joining on and reading this fic, and that is the Azris shippers. @the-darkestminds, @jules-writes-stories, @mistandmemories, @constantsins I have ] always enjoyed your expressive, thoughtful, and analytical comments and words of encouragement you have given me. I especially want to shout out @the-darkestminds because I really do think that you helped my audience grow. If you weren't reblogging my chapter updates, a lot of people who are interested in reading about gay Eris wouldn't have seen my fics at all. In my head, Azris shippers only gave this a try because they love you and your work so much. They trust your tastes so they felt if you liked this fic, maybe they would like it too. You have always been such a good friend to me (especially tolerating me even though I don't like Azriel lmao) and I can't thank you enough.

I also want to thank a lot of people who have been with me throughout this entire journey, reblogging my fic and leaving amazingly thoughtful and inspiring comments on my chapters: @clockwork-ashes, @what-about-elvenis, @lovely-vanserra-sunshine, @teddyhoneybear, and all of the people on AO3 who I don't know if you're on tumblr! Comments are everything to a writer, and please know that anytime I received a comment from you, it made me want to write the next chapter so see what you would think about the rest of the story.

There have a lot been a lot of people who have liked/reblogged/or occasionally stopped by to chat with me about this fic or Alexius as a character. While I can't list everyone, please know if you reached out to me, I was always so moved and excited to talk to you. And anytime you want to talk to me about these characters, please do not hesitate!

I know this is very extra - but I really felt it was appropriate to get this sentimental about this fic compared to others. I really put a lot of myself into this story, and the emotional journey and growth as a writer I went on felt like I needed to give back to all of the people who were there encouraging me to not give up. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

[sirrockem]

TADC RACEWAY AU - SETH ART DUMP

Raceway AU and Seth belong to @thescarletnargacuga / @theamazingdigitalraceway

MUSIC USED: Ricochet - Guilty Gear XX #Reload (Korean version)

MORE RENDERS UNDER THE CUT! CONTENT WARNING: Smoking

BONUS: Model turnaround and expression test:

Aaaaaand here it is! This took a lot longer to make than I would like to admit, but I think I'm at a point where I can consider this finished.

A massive shout out goes to Scarlet, the creator of this character and AU! Consider this a gift, for being such an awesome writer and person!

…Okay, I'm gonna go on a ramble now. You don't have to read it if you don't want to. I just have a few things I'd like to say:

-

So, I'm not a professional artist by any means, but you probably noticed that already. Actually, this is my first time making any kind of art in a very long time, but after getting into the TADC fandom and discovering such an amazing array of artists and writers, I felt compelled to give a little something back. Prove that I could create, not only consume, I guess.

There's a part of me that's pretty scared to post this. This fandom is full of creators with incredible, well-developed artistic skill… and then there's me, stumbling in with this polygonal mess. It's intimidating, y'know? I feel like a kid showing off his crayon drawings to his parents. I know it's ultimately pointless to compare myself to people with actual years of experience under their belts, but my brain still goes there regardless.

Well, it's not like too many people are gonna see this anyway, right? I'm just glad I was even able to finish this. That's not something I get to say very often. There were so many times where my brain was telling me that this was too hard, and that I should just give up. For once, I decided to say "No", and pushed on through anyway, despite my limited artistic abilities.

Oh, and Scarlet, if you're reading this… thank you so very much. Seriously, your work has given me so much joy and inspiration, and you're a really cool person to boot. I couldn't have done this if it wasn't for you!

Sorry if I'm being overly sappy, I just wanted to express my gratitude to you, and this whole community. I'm happy that I chose to be a part of it, even if it's just in a small way.

Alright, I think I've talked for long enough. I'm gonna shut up now.

[lucidmysteria]

back on my rayman rambling shit bc I love him so fucking much so I just have to make this entire acc about him. Anyways just a few silly headcanons on him that I personally think suit him very well.

He 100% LOVES all things nature, including space, and on his free time enjoys star gazing before bed.

Cares a lot about his appearance!! Not to the point where he's overly concerned but he does at least wanna look cool no matter what he's doing.

His love language is acts of service (like gift giving.), touch, and words of affirmation/ being sappy because it's silly.

He is not very good with impulse control, he tries his best but... the impulse usual wins.

that's all I have now xd..., but if I think of more I'll definitely post it!! ((also sorry for clogging up the tag with my nonsense, if y'all want me 2 stop i will 😋))

[lo-frequency]

Hi I love your blogand your writinh so much it's so good!

Could I request a shoto/denki and toga x chubby reader (if you're not comfortable writing with toga you can just to denki and shoto) thanks!

Fortunately for you, anon, I did them all! (and it's kinda long, so my bad lol) Also, there's mention of insecurity in Toga's, but it quickly turns to fluff. As always, please enjoy!

Denki

-Believe it or not, Denki was nervous to confess to you because he was afraid of being rejected. You’re so cute and cool and that he was sure there’s no way you actually returned his feelings. It was worth a shot, tho. So imagine his joy when you said you felt the same way :)

-Rants about you all the time to his friends, to the point where they feel like they know you personally before you’ve even met. They also get to hear all the tmi stories about what the two of you do alone, because he can’t help himself (if they don’t walk away first, lol).

-He knew you looked squishy before, but couldn’t believe how soft your skin was when he finally got to hold you. It was almost unfair. He often finds himself caressing your skin mindlessly whenever you’re close together, hand always ghosting across your arm or hand (or your thigh ;) ).

-Lays back on you to play video games, his head cushioned by your pillowy chest and the rest of his body situated between your legs as you watch him play. Play in his hair or rub his arms and he will fall asleep. The tingly feeling he gets when cuddling with you is his favorite kind of electricity.

-Zaps your butt “by accident”

-Easily flustered, but he tries to play it off with his cool act. Just kiss his cheek or tell him he’s handsome and watch him ramble about knowing he’s “irresistible” until he flushes red up to his ears.

-Denki can be pretty corny at times but he does have his serious moments, mostly when you two are alone together. He shows you what’s beneath his goofy facade, a boy with dreams and aspirations just like everyone else. After seeing this side of him, it’s a little irritating to hear people reduce him to an idiot (although he does have his moments 💀)

-Them thighs tho 😏 “Dang babe, you been working out?” “Not really, Kaminari” He clucks his tongue. “Sheesh, imagine being that thicc...naturally” he says, shaking his head as if it were a shame.

-Truly believes he has the best s/o in the whole school. Does not take offense to being called a simp 🤷🏾‍♀️.

-Wasn’t aware of it at first, but became super attracted to people with your same body type. His eyes always lingered on them in public, and he couldn’t help but think they were kinda hot (sorry, y/n)

-Very affectionate, but loves to receive as much as give, so please give this man plenty of kithes and hugs, he gets the shakes if he doesn’t get his daily dose of Y/n love.

-Y’all are so silly together, always cracking jokes or giggling about something. You eventually develop a similar sense of humor, and have so many inside jokes people can’t decipher your conversation. If anybody has anything negative to say about y’all: Denki puts his hand over his earpiece and says to you (from right next to him) “Pikachu to Big Sexy, I’m picking up some negative vibes on the radar, do you copy?” And you, holding your hand up to your own ear, say “Affirmative, doing a diagnostic scan...it’s a hater, confirmed.” Cue the obnoxious laughter, lmaoo

-Never forgets the anniversaries or relationship milestones. He even remembers the date of yall’s first kiss, and thinks about it every time the date passes (although he wouldn’t tell you that tho, that would be too sappy, even for him).

Shoto

-The way you and Shoto became acquainted was a little unorthodox. You fell on him during a training session one day, and the feeling of your soft body pressed against his was a new experience for him, to put it mildly. Shoto stood up from it a changed man. Call it an awakening, if you will.

-You were a little put off by all his staring since that incident, thinking he didn’t like you despite all your profuse apologies. But after Izuku dropped hints that it was probably fascination rather than contempt, your relationship progressed smoothly from there (thanks mostly to your efforts, since Shoto had no clue how to approach you).

-Shoto still had a staring problem once y’all became official, too. Whenever you asked him what he was looking at, he was not ashamed to tell you exactly why: you are too fine not to stare (ok, maybe he didn’t say it exactly like that)

-Not overly affectionate in public, but has a tendency to always stand or sit close to you whenever he can. Just sharing the same space is intimate to him.

-Sharing a bowl of soba noodles 💕

-Buys you expensive gifts all the time, and loves to see you using them. Especially if it’s clothes, it’s like a piece of him is always with you even when you’re not together (plus, it shows you’re all his ;) ).

-Now, I’m gonna tell y’all a little secret. It’s pretty shocking, so be warned: Shoto sometimes pretends to be oblivious when you hint at wanting affection, just to make you beg for it. Maybe you brush your hand against his, and he moves it. Or maybe he saw you lean for a kiss and he casually turns the other way just to hear you complain. He likes it, makes him feel wanted.

-Devious, I know, but just get even 😏

-When y’all are alone, he loves when you hold him close and just sit there, peacefully enjoying each other’s presence. He also likes to lay on your lap while reading a book or watching tv with you, slowly nodding off as you comb your fingers through his hair.

-Obsessed with you, but not in an unhealthy way, it’s just that you’ve become such a big part of his life that he kinda...thinks about you all the time. Shoto is canonically not very talkative, but I think that with you, he’d open up more about his true thoughts and feelings. So when he shoots you that blank stare when his classmates are up to some bull, you know exactly what it means.

-Also revels in knowing you that well, too. He’d flex how much he knows about you to the other people and sometimes unintentionally embarrasses you in the process

-For example: “Here Y/n, a cherry popsicle just for you!” Shoto immediately hands you some napkins before adding “Y/n doesn’t usually eat cherry popsicles, they always drop the red juice on their clothes.” Like gee, good looking out Shoto...thanks for telling the whole class I can’t eat without messing up my clothes 💀. He’s sweet tho, he has good intentions.

Toga

-She made it very clear from the beginning that she liked you, and with how smitten she was, who were you to refuse her (aggressive) advances?

- She thought your plump figure was just so cute, one of the cutest things she’d ever seen, and she quickly developed an unhealthy obsession with squeezing your chub.

-When you two are together, Toga is always attached to you in some way, whether she’s hanging off your arm or has her arms looped around your shoulders.

-Starts to eat the same foods you eat, borrow your clothes all the time, listen to your favorite artists, whatever way she could become closer to you

-Writes you love letters or sends you cute text messages all the time, you’re always on her mind, even when she’s on missions. “My Y/n is wayy cuter than you! Let’s get this over quick so I go back to them, ok? 🥰 🔪🔪”

-I know y’all were waiting for this...she most definitely uses her quirk on you. Toga loves you so much, she wants to become you. So one day, you finally allow her to give it a try.

-She tells you to close your eyes, and when she gives you permission to open them, you find yourself staring...yourself in the face. And you do not like it 🤢. There’s something so strange about seeing yourself in 3rd person, in all dimensions. Is this how you look to her, all the time? You quickly lose interest in this little charade, looking everywhere but at yourself as Toga prances around doing sexy poses in your body and giggling. However, when she sees your reaction, she stops.

- “Hm? What’s wrong, Y/n?” she asks with a tilt of (your) her head. You glance at yourself, then look away again. “This is so weird. I don’t like looking at myself” you say, grimacing at the slight bounce and jiggle of your body when she walks toward you.

-In Toga’s eyes, you were absolutely adorable. In fact, she was getting a little hot and bothered just taking peeks at herself (you) in the mirror. She’s used to feeling you up for sure, but being you was a whole other experience. Though, she can understand your insecurity. After all, it’s hard to live in a world that constantly tells you your true self is abnormal. She knows from experience.

-So, she comes up to you with a flirty grin on her face...and starts showering you with kisses, in your body! You start to protest, weirded out by the feeling of your own lips on your cheeks but she would not relent. Toga was determined to show you what being loved (by you) felt like from her perspective, with your irresistible “imperfections” and all 💕

Thanks for tuning in! :)

[writingsbychlo]

making amends | mitch rapp

word count; 6262

summary; Mitch makes his girl angry, and now he’s making up for it.

warnings; smut and references to violence/injury.

notes; this is totally unproofed, because I wrote it in like twelve hours to make sure y’all had something today since I took the other fic down.

“C’mon, kitten, I said I was sorry.” 

Mitch’s voice felt irritatingly soft as he trailed you around the supermarket, watching as you pushed the cart and built up the groceries for your weekly shop, ignoring the way he whined a little as you continued to give him the cold-shoulder. “I thought I told you to stay at home.”

“Technically, you said ‘wash that fucking lipstick off your neck, while I go to the store’, and I did. I showered, I’m all fresh, and I’ve come to shop with you.” He bumped his hip against the edge of the cart, and you growled out, absolutely not in the mood to hear him sum up technicalities. He wandered along with you in silence for a while, occasionally reaching out to try and place a hand on your lower back, or wrap his arm around you, only to be shrugged off. It was at the bakery section, as you weighed out two different loaves of bread, staring at them intently, that he tried again; “Baby, please. It wasn’t like it was something I just did for fun, it was literally a life or death situation.”

“Was it, Rapp? Because the last time I checked, letting another woman crawl into your lap and suck on your neck was called ‘cheating’, not ‘surviving’.”

His own growl sounded out now, and he placed both hands on the front of the cart to bring it to a complete stop, the apologetic look on his face being gone as he glared at you, the intense stare-down taking place in the middle of the bread section, and it was hours overdue. “Do not call me a cheater. I didn’t kiss her, I didn’t initiate it, I just had to let it happen to keep my cover.”

“Where were your hands?”

“What?” Confusion flickered across his features, and in the middle of it all, you chose which loaf you wanted, dropping that down into the cart too, and you raised a brow at him, watching as he swallowed thickly, eyes dropping from yours for a split second. “You don’t really want me to answer that.”

“Yes, I do.”

He scratched at the back of his neck, sighing out, before his shoulders dropped. “On her ass. But, they were just sitting there, it wasn’t like-”

You turned from him, continuing on to find things in the aisles, but your head was a little lower, and he didn’t try to touch you anymore. He simply walked along beside you, adding the things he knew were weekly additions, until everything was prepared, and you had crossed everything off of your list. 

He helped to load things out onto the check-out, an elderly woman behind you with far more things than she had bags for in her hands, but you turned back to Mitch, finding him playing with his hands as he stared at you. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“What?”

“Because of what happened on the assignment. Are you breaking up with me?” He finally looked up, honey-coloured eyes wide and glassy, and your angry stiffness slipped away, your body slumping a little, and you stepped slightly closer to him. 

“No.”

He perked up a little, a breath of relief leaving him, and he reached out a hand, slowly to give you time to pull back, before it was settling over your jaw, and he was pulling you even closer, until your toes bumped his and breath was shared between you both, a little chuckle on his lips. “Do you want me to sleep on the couch for a few nights?”

You considered it, the pair of you shuffling up a little closer as your groceries moved, the elderly woman ahead of you still packing up, but you were in your own little bubble with the man you loved, even if, on the surface, you were angry with him. “No. You know I hate it when the bed is empty, and you only just got back. I don’t want you out of it any longer.”

He just nodded his head before closing the gap between you both, a soft kiss pressed to your lips. It was reassuring, and no matter how much you hated to give in to him so easily, it felt so right to be back in his arms, and feel the way his lips moved with your own, a pattern traced so delicately, mastered after years of practice but never any less passionate, and when you pulled away, it was with a happy hum and the feeling of warmth flooding through your body. 

“I love you, you know that, right?”

“I do know that.” You grumbled, smiling to the cashier as she began to ring up your products, and you began to bag them all up, feeling him bump up against you as he came to help. 

“And?”

“And what?” You knew what he wanted, and you were playing coy, but he was fixing you with a wounded stare, some kind of puppy-dog eyes, and you gave him, rolling your eyes fondly and turning away to hide your smile. “I love you, too.”

He was overly pleased with himself, chuffing as his chest puffed out, and he packed the rest of the groceries with you while making idle small talk with the young girl at the register, the poor thing rambling about her upcoming maths tests, before he was punching his PIN into the device and scooping up the bags, following you out to the car. 

Loading it all into the back, he helped you climb in, before rounding the vehicle himself, and hopping up into the passenger seat. You turned to look at him as the car started, reversing out of the space, and he lifted your hand from the gear stick to pressed kisses along your knuckles once the two of you were making your way out towards the roads. “Didn’t you bring your car? I’m not driving you back here tomorrow to get it, just because you got needy and wanted to drive with me.”

“So mean.” He tutted, shaking his head, and you took your hand back from him, placing it on the wheel as you reached busier roads. “You don’t want me to sleep on the couch, but you’re still mad at me, because if you weren’t, you’d totally drive me back. It’s not there, by the way, my car is in our garage at home. I got a taxi.”

“That was optimistic.”

“Yes, it was. I would get a taxi from one end of the country to the other if it meant making you happy.” It was ridiculously romantic, and while Mitch was known for sweet-talking you, this was just sappy, his comments usually involved flirting and a playful comment as he teased you and tried to get you a little aroused. “So, please just tell me how to make it up to you, and I’ll do it.”

“Well, you can start by making me dinner.”

“I’ll make you that casserole that you like.” You hummed at the idea, enjoying the simple idea of the meal you loved so much, and he was continuing on for you, trying to charm you as he endeavoured to make it all okay again. “I’ll run you a bath too, and I’ll sit there with you the whole time, even though you know I hate baths. But, I do like the way your bath bombs smell.”

“You’re definitely getting there.”

He smirked, turning to look at you, the radio playing in the background and you could feel his eyes dragging along your body, the heavyweight of his stare on your form, and you only glanced at him, catching the cheeky look on his features. “Then, at the end of the night, I’ll take you to bed, and make you scream in all the ways I know you love, pinned to the bed as I fuck you senseless. I’ll take you apart, make you completely unravel, until you’re begging me for it.”

“No.”

His grin fell away, a little startled at the fact it hadn't been an accepted offer, and he sat up straighter from the slumped position he’d been in. “What?”

“Not tonight.” He frowned, and it was your turn to smirk, what soon became a wicked grin as excitement flooded your veins with your own idea. “You touched another girl, so tonight, you don’t get to touch me until I tell you it’s okay.”

“Kitten, I d-”

“You’ll be begging me for it. Begging me to let you cum, begging me to touch you, begging me just to kiss you.” He was gaping a little squirming in his seat. “Tonight, you can submit to me.”

“We’ve never done that before.”

“That’s because you like to dominate, all the time.” You muttered, and he sounded his agreement enthusiastically. 

“And it works that way!” He reached out, to brush his fingers along your cheek comfortingly as you pulled up into the driveway, but you only pulled back, mischief taking over as you tutted at him.

“What did I say? No touching until you’re told to.” He whimpered a little, scowling at you as he pulled back his hand. 

“Baby, don’t do this to me. I like to touch you, and hold you, and kiss you. I want to take care of you. Let me take care of you.” You only shook your head, killing the engine and taking back the keys, before you were leaning over the centre console just far enough to press a kiss to his lips, and he whined when you pulled back far too soon for his liking, before he’d even had a chance to tangle his fingers in your hair and lick at you lower lip like he normally would. “This is going to be torture.”

“That’s the whole point.”

Mitch did his best to do as told, he really did, but it was hard. He wasn’t used to being told what to do when it came to you, he was used to being the one giving orders, and doing the teasing, and being able to take what he wanted whenever he wanted it. Every time he kissed you, instinct kicking in, before you’d told him he could, you made sure to stick an extra five minutes onto the time before you got to the fun stuff, and you were loving it.

He looked physically pained when you’d told him you wanted to watch a movie before your bath, to use up the extra time he’d earned by growling and pinning you to the edge of the counter when dinner had been ready and you’d made a show of bending over the oven to pull it out, and while he had insisted that it had been worth it, he was now reaping the consequences. You did love him though, and so half-way through you’d given in to his sad pouting and sulking, shuffling across the cushions into his arms, letting him wrap you up tightly as he curled around you to hold on, your back pressed to his chest as he pressed kisses to your cheeks and jaw, anywhere he could reach as he craned his head around to you, and your fingers had woven together. 

That was when you found yourself in a much similar position, warm water swaying around you as your fingers danced over the bubble on the surface, entertaining yourself as you drew patterns, and Mitch’s chin was hooked over your shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around you. Your hair was pinned up to keep it dry, and he was entertaining himself by blowing a strand continuously, watching as it darted up into the air, before falling back against your cheek, tickling you as it did, before he was repeating it all over again. 

“Will you stop that? You’re making my cheek cold.”

“Sorry, baby.” He did as told, moving to press a wet kiss to your skin, the cool blows he’d been letting out having chilled that side of your face, and he nuzzled against the spot as he pulled away. “You know how bored I get in the bath. I don’t see the point.” You did know that, but you wanted to sit here a little longer, because as much as he hated it, you liked baths, and there was plenty that you did for him that you weren’t as fond of. Like watching every single baseball match that came on with him, and recording the ones he missed while he was away. 

“Just a little bit longer.”

“As long as you want, kitten.” You smiled a little at his voice, your eyes fluttering closed as you settled your head back against his shoulder, feeling the stubble on the underside of his jaw brush against the top of your head as you did, and he leaned it against you, trying to relax himself. “Don’t you feel like we’re just sitting in our own dirt, though?”

“You ask me that every single time. Even when you’re not even in the bath.” 

He chuckled, nodding his head a little, before finding your hands under the water, and weaving your fingers with his own. “I know, but showers are just better.” You hummed, barely acknowledging his statement, having heard the argument dozens of times, but letting him play it out, anyway. “They’re just cleaner! All the dirt and grime washes away, and they don’t get cold like a bath does, it’s always hot - well, until the water heater runs out - but they're quicker, too!”

“Uh-huh..”

He huffed, knowing he’d lost your attention, and you felt his thumb raise up to play with your own as he tried to entertain himself. “Besides, we can have fun in the shower.” You knew what he was hinting at, the tone of his voice gave it away, and your mind conjured up an image you were sure was accurate, brows wiggling a little as he grinned cheekily at his flirty comment, and you scoffed.

“We can still have fun in the bath.” 

You took his hand, his interest peaking as you dragged it down over wet skin, across your stomach, until the water was shifting as you parted your legs from where they were crossed, and the deep rumble in his chest was more than enough to show his enthusiasm, taking control over his limb as you let go, fingers drifting gently over your core as the surface rippled. Are you finally gonna’ let me touch you?”

“You’ve been touching me all night.” You taunted, and he nipped gently on your shoulder, still stroking his fingers slowly over your folds, waiting for the real permission, finally having learned not to just take what he wanted, hours of being denied making him patient as he waits on the precipice of getting what he really wanted. 

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” The tip of his nose dragged over your temple, lips following, and you gave in, the sweet and loving touches being all too much. You had already forgiven him, and deep down, you weren't even sure there had ever been anything to forgive. He did what he had to do not to blow his cover, to stay alive and to get the information he needed to get home to you quicker, but it didn’t make it any easier to picture the man you loved so much letting another woman take your place, even if it didn’t mean anything to him. “You can touch me, Mitch. I need you to.”

He let out a happy breath, fingers immediately working to part your folds, dragging calloused fingertips up gently, until he could circle your clit. “Missed you so much while I was away. You have no idea, I hate having to leave, especially when I don’t know how long it’ll be.”

“Every time you leave scares, I think you won’t come back.”

You lifted a hand, lacing it into his hair carefully, wet fingers making the strands damp, sticking to your fingers as your nails scratched over his scalp in the way you knew he loved, the shiver you felt as you did only confirming it. A single digit eased around your entrance, slipping in slowly, and your back arched as you finally felt yourself connecting with him again. You couldn't help it, the moan that fell from your lips as he pumped the sole finger slowly, and he whispered soothing words softly into your ear as he tightened the arm around your waist.

“Mitch..”

“I know, baby, I got you.” A second finger stretched you out, the pace picking up, water beginning to splash a little up the edges of the tub, and you moved, enough to be able to turn your head fully, lip finding his, and he moaned softly into your mouth as you did. Soft teasings, that only a second later became teeth grazing your lower lip, and tongues tangling as dove further into you, head tipping to the side and hand gripping your waist even more tightly. 

The coil in your stomach was tightening, your hips rocking up into his hand as you began to crave your peak, needing to feel everything you’d missed so long since he’d been away. The heel of his hand was rubbing against your swollen bud, his mouth dragging from your own when your head began to spin as you gasped for breath, feeling him move along your neck to find the spot he knew so well, licking and sucking his way, stinging flesh that threatened to turn to bruises, before he was finding the spot within you that threw you over the edge. 

There were whimpers of his name as you unraveled, walls clamping around long and slender digits as he eased you through your peak, a cry of his name that was quickly muffled as his mouth descended over your own once again, and then you were coming down, feeling him pull away from your core, leaving you empty as he pulled back. “I’m never leaving you, kitten. I promise, I’ll always come home to you. You are home.”

You could only nod, twisting in his arms straddle his lap, your hands cupping his face as he stared up at you, a small smile on his lips as he felt your thumbs smoothing over his cheeks, and you couldn't help but return it. While there had been no official confirmation of it, you knew where this was headed. When he’d asked whether you were breaking up with him, even at that moment, you’d both know it would never happen, because he was your end game, and you were his, and you never needed to say it, because it was evident in every moment of every day that you spent with him.

“I love you, so much. You know you’re my forever, right?”

“I know.” You whispered, pecking his lips gently when he puckered them for you, and he leaned in further, keeping your forehead pressed to his, even when you pulled away. “I love you too.” He grinned, one of your hands trailing down from his cheek to his chest, hard muscles littered with little scars, bumps of pink flesh that you were so used to tracing with your lips on the quiet nights when he needed a little more reassurance. Tensing and flexing under your touch, you shuffled back, sitting across muscled thighs, before wrapping your fingers gently around his half-hard cock, and he bucked up into your touch. 

His lips parted, mouth falling open, and you grinned as his head tipped back, body sinking further down into the water, head resting on the edge of the tub. Your other hand found the metal beside his head, leaning in to kiss and bite your way along his throat, and a whimper found it’s way to the surface leaning even further to let you have that more access, your lips sealing onto the place his neck and shoulders met. You could tell that much by the broken noise he let out, cock throbbing in your hand as he became fully hard, and water dripped from his hands as he lifted them to find your hips, groping tightly as he rolled up to meet your slow pumps. 

You slowed down, even more, grip tightening as you waited for him to beg, the same way he’d promised you would be, before you’d turned the tables on him. You’d never had much of a chance to see him this way, to take him apart slowly, piece by piece until he was begging you for it, and you gave in, moving your hand a little faster each time he moaned out, before a needy whine was the loudest sound yet;

“Kitten, stop teasing me, please.”

“But, it’s so much fun. That’s what you like to do to me.” He cracked his eyes open, somehow finding the strength to lift his head, muscles stiff as he neared the edge, but a defiant look was flashing through his eyes. “Don’t you remember, the time you made me wait hours to cum, I lost count of how many times you brought me to the edge, before letting me wind back down? I remember, I was shaking and crying, begging you for it, and when you finally let me cum, it was so good that everything went blank, and it took almost half an hour for everything to come back into focus.”

He smirked a little, the expression quickly dropping as his mouth formed an ‘o’ shape when you toyed with the patch under the tip of his cock that made him go weak, before you were slowing down once again, and a desperate sound left him. “I remember. How could I not? You were wearing my favourite lingerie, and it was the first time you squirted. It was incredible.”

“Well, you made me wait that night, so now, you get to wait.”

“No, no, please. I’m so close, I’m gonna’ come, kitten.” You stopped, hand stilling around him, before you were letting him go, solid cock bobbing in the water as a sob left him, and you caught his wrist in your hands before he could take his pleasure into his own hands. You knew very well that he could overpower you if he wanted to, and it looked like he was going to, before he was giving in, a defeated look on his face as his arms went loose in your grasp. “You really are torturing me.”

“Oh, honey, you’ll get what you want in the end.”

“Yeah, but how long do I have to wait?” He grumbled, watching as you stood up, dark eyes raking over your naked and wet form, licking his lips and grinning happily as you stepped out of the bath, just happy it was finally over. He pulled the plug on the drain, the water began to slip away, before he was following you, grabbing a towel from the rack himself and chasing after you to the bedroom as you dried yourself as you walked. 

A hand reached out, finding your waist as he turned you to face him, and you let him do so, before you were pushing him backwards, waiting for the back of his legs to find the bed and he fell backwards, sitting on the edge of the mattress, both towels falling away. “Tell me what you want, Mitch.”

“I want to come.” He hissed, a scowl on his face, and you tutted at his attitude, a shocked look flittering over your lover’s features at the sound. You were having fun at his extent, the role reversal being more than he could handle, but he forced himself to relax, shaking himself down and slumping down on the bed, his hands being all that was holding him up now. “I just want to come.”

“‘Course you do, and we’ll get to that, but not yet. Tell me what else you want.”

He considered it all, before a lopsided smile was taking over, and he was resting himself back against the covers. “If I tell you, will you give it to me?”

“Isn’t that what you always do for me? Take care of me, give me what I want without really giving me what I want.” He chuckled, nodding his head, and he watched as you moved around the bed, pulling the scrunchie from your hair and letting it fall free once again. 

“I would love it if you sucked my cock.” You grinned a little, his own hands twitching by his side as his cock bobbed in the air, angry and flushed, leaking precum at the tip as he balanced on the verge of coming. “Just the way you know I like it, when you let me fuck your mouth, choking on my cock, you look so pretty like that. I like it especially much when you let me paint your beautiful face, sticky and white.” He snickered at his own words, and you raised a brow, sinking to your knees between his thighs, and he propped himself up on his elbows as he waited for you to make a move. 

“You’re trying to top from the bottom, Mitch Rapp. That’s not allowed.” 

“Yeah, well, you already won’t let me cum. What else are you going to do?” He was so sure of himself, so confident, and so you traced your tongue along his length, top to bottom, and his stomach clenched up, lines of his muscles clear, and you chuckled as he reached a hand out towards you, the intention of lacing it into your hair. 

“You can’t touch.”

“What?” He was startled, and you repeated your motion, making sure to swirl the wet article around the head of his cock now too, and his hips bucked upwards, cock smeared across your cheek, and you glared falsely at him, taking him in your hand. 

“You asked what else I was going to do. You tested me. Now, you don’t get to touch, either. I know just how much you like to do that.”

He let out a string of curses, collapsing back into laying down once again, fingers twisting in the bedsheets as he tried to contain himself, and you wanted to push his limits a little more. Sealing your lips around him, you sank your way along his cock, until he was tapping the back of your throat, and a pathetic sound left him as the sheets shifted under his hold, pulling tight as he tried to contain himself. His hips were moving, pushing up into your mouth as he tried to get even deeper within the wet heat of your mouth, but your nails dug into his thighs, making him tremble as they dropped back down, body curling in on himself a little bit at the shock of the sting that moved along his body. 

Pleas fell from him from the moment your cheeks hollowed around him, tight and filthy, and you swallowed around him as you leaned down far enough to feel his tip hitting the back of your throat. The burn in your eyes was something you loved, tears slipping down your cheek as you gagged along his length, swallowing around him. Everything within you wanted to please him, to bring him to his peak, to hear him growl out your name alongside sweet praises as he always did, but today, it was different. Today, you were in charge, you were taking him apart, and you pulled back for breath, your hand finding his spit-slick cock and pumping quickly.

“Oh, shit, baby..” He was gasping for breath, body rigid and tense as you leaned over him, kissing along his stomach, tracing his happy trail with the tip of your tongue as he sighed, before sucking a bruise into the pale flesh of his hip bone. “Please, please, fuck, let me come..”

“You’re doing so good, though..” You mumbled, words whispered into his skin, and as you felt him near that peak, you pulled away once again, ignoring his sobs as he was left dry, and you tried to suppress your thrill, kissing your way up his body slowly, and his eyes were still screwed up when you reached his face, features softening as you leaned in to kiss him. 

He was more than eager, searching for any kind of contact at this point, and he lifted his head to meet you halfway. When you licked along the seam of his lips, he parted them happily, letting you explore his mouth as though you’d never done so before, coaxing him to join you until you could feel the tension slip away from his body, relaxing under your touch, the bedding falling loose again as his fingers uncurled from them. 

Taking his hands, one at a time, you lifted them up, pinning them over his head, and ignoring the way he let out needy noises into your mouth, muscles twitching under your skin as you trailed your fingertips back along his arms, featherlight touches that made him jerk a little as they tickled him. Taking a seat across his lap once again, joint sounds of pleasure erupted from the both of you as your sodden heat pressed along his length. 

Rocking your hips, you pushed down against him, and his head was pressing into the bedding, dark tufts of hair looking more than inviting to tangle your fingers in you rode him, something you rarely ever got to do, but your body was singing out, and you were more than happy to take this opportunity as it reared its head. The tip of his cock grazed your clit each time, you could feel every throb he made, and with a simple shift of your hips, he was lined up at your entrance, ready to sink into your welcoming warmth when you let him. 

His eyes met your own, and he lifted his head from where it lay flat, eyes dropping down to the place where you both connected, before they were rolling back in his head as you finally sank down onto him. 

“Oh, fucking hell, I’ve never loved your pussy more than right now.” He hissed the words out through gritted teeth, and you gave yourself a second to adjust, feeling the width of him stretching you out as your breath felt knocked from your lungs. That same desperate rigidity was back, short puffs of air as he struggled not to come undone, but then you rocked your hips, lifting yourself up just enough to slam down onto him, squeezing him as you did and with a loud cry, he broke. 

Ribbons of hot cum spattered your walls, filling you up in the most delicious way, the same way that always made you feel weak, your body trembling atop his as you tried to keep up your pace, the way he was sobbing and moaning your name was something so erotic you wondered why you’d never thought to want it before, and now, you knew why he dragged it out for you. It was a mind-blowing pleasure, the kind that made our head spin, and you’d always been on the receiving end of it, but you could see the appeal from his side. It made something that made you feel powerful, and confident, and entirely beautiful in your own skin, to see the effect you could have on another person, even through your insecurities, as you watched him fall apart. 

“Holy shit, that was incredible.”

His words were slurred, choked out through a contented sigh, before he was moaning again, thrusting up weakly into you as you continued to take what you needed and never once did he soften within you, he just continued to stay the way he was, his thighs tensing behind you as he pulled his feet up to rest flat on the bed. 

“That’s it, kitten. Ride me, you look so fucking good on my cock, tits bouncing, you’re absolutely perfect.” He was biting down on his lower lip, that one orgasm seeming to have cleared his mind, because he was right back to being the cocky tease you knew and loved, and as you felt your own peak climbing up, you fell forwards. Hands on his chest to support yourself, he pushed up into you as your nails dug into his chest, revelling in the little bursts of pain, it gave to him. “Please, kitten, you made me feel good. Let me make you feel good, too.”

His eyes were honest, and pure, and the way he bit down on his lower lip as he tried to fuck up into you was your final breaking point. “Yes.”

As soon as the words had left your mouth, you were flipped over, onto your back and his length left you as he did, before wide hands were parting your thighs, a flat tongue smoothing over your folds as he greedily took everything you had to give him, lapping at the slick that coated your thighs, a mixture of you and him, cleaning you of everything that had amounted, and your hands came down to tangle in his hair. Tugging harshly, he growled, biting down on the inside of your right thigh roughly until you yelped, jerking away from him, and he kissed over the patch carefully to soothe it, before two fingers were plunging into your centre and setting a speed you could barely comprehend. 

“Mitch!”

“That’s right, sweetheart, scream my name. That’s how it should be.” He was more than boasting, his ego shooting through the roof as your entire body quivered, and he pressed his other hand down flat onto your stomach to pin you down, roughly fucking you onto his fingers as you shot over the edge. Gushing arousal, you cried out, his pace never letting up as your back arched, eyes rolling and your screams went silent at this point, jaw slack. “I want to punish you, I want you to know that torture, but then again, I suppose I deserved it. Now, we’re even. I want you to have a climax like I did.” 

“Fuck, I can’t, Mitch!” 

“Yes, you can! You said that last time, but you came better than you ever did before. You came so good it went on for almost two full minutes.” He smirked, and you could feel that same kind of blinding ecstasy shooting through you, head to toe as every nerve lit up, and those same fingers left you for a second, before he was filling you up with something much larger. He wasted no time, cock pounding in and out of you as you clung to him frantically, nails dragging marks into his back. 

Frenzied kisses, a bruising pace, and then you were exploding, tears running down your cheeks as he eased you through it, following you into a second peak less than before but as he felt you explode, he followed suit. A chant of his name, a series of curses, wet kisses that were more just gasps for breath as your mouths melded lazily, before his sweaty form was collapsing down on top of you, spent and weak, and you held onto him tightly.

Your heart was still racing, so fast you thought it may actually give out, and then he was rolling off of you, trying to catch his breath as that same fucked out but blissful expression took over on his face. “As much as I hated that, I can’t deny that it was incredible.”

“Mhm.”

He cooed, rolling over and pulling you into him as exhaustion and laziness took over, and for a few minutes, you couldn't even force your eyes open. Just the feeling of his fingers stroking up and down your back, tracing your spine as he soothed you, before you were lifting your head, curling into him a little more as you threw a leg over his own, and he gripped onto you tightly. 

“Next time, let’s do it the usual way.” 

“I absolutely agree.”

He could only laugh, body shaking a little under your touch, before he was bringing his head up to peer at you, catching your lips in a simple kiss, before placing you down in the pillows. Wriggling the blanket out from under your body, he covered both of your naked forms with it, the heat having died down, and you were reaching out for him again, pulling him closer to you as you sought out his warmth and affections. 

“I meant it, by the way.”

“Meant what?” You whispered, fingers brushing over a yellowing bruise over his ribs that you hadn't noticed until now, but wanted to heal, and protect him again, now that he was home. 

“That you’re my forever.” A hand petting your hair, lips brushing your temple, and you were barely hanging on to consciousness, but these were words you wanted to hear. “I don’t want anyone else. Just you, I love you with everything I have. I know sometimes I’m not great at showing it, but it’s true. Sometimes I just need you to show me the way.”

“Well, you can show it by making me breakfast tomorrow morning.” You joked, a loud laugh leaving him, and you groaned as his chest shook under your cheek, before you were grinning yourself. 

“I manage to muster up the ability to say all that soppy shit, and that’s what you give me in return?” He pinched you lightly, happy with himself as you yelped, before he was rubbing the tender spot gently. “I hate you.”

“I love you, too.”

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

Can I get 27 and 32 of angst with Niragi were y/n and him actually knew each other before borderland and they were in a relationship but once they got to borderline they grew apart bc they both didn’t like how the other was acting in borderland especially after they joined the beach

{Prompt Masterlist}

Warning(s): violence, falling out of love, mention of insecurity

Niragi for “What happened to their happily ever after?” “Not all love stories get a happily ever after, sometimes it’s just once upon a time.” and “They were perfect for each other.”

Everything had changed for you as soon as you arrived at The Beach.

Kuina had managed to find you at a game and offered to take you back to the ‘Utopia’, believing that you had potential. You thought it would be a good chance to make allies and meet people.

Until you spotted him.

Niragi wasn’t the old nerdy, sympathetic boyfriend you knew him as. It was as easy to tell just from looking at him. Over the course of the few years you’ve been apart, he’s managed to turn himself into a mindless, murderous machine, believing that everyone was inferior to him.

He was the exact copy of the boys that used to use him for target practise for baseball, only he was a lot taller and had a sniper rifle on him at all times.

It felt so overly foreign, looking at the face of someone that once made your stomach explode with butterflies and happiness, only to find that their smile now brought you dread and fear.

What happened to the old Niragi? You were perfect for each other, why did that fade away so quickly?

He had managed to spot you one night while you were walking back to your room. You didn’t even notice it was him walking past you until you were wrapped in a strong embrace, kisses peppering all over your face. He was ecstatic to reunite with you, tears running down his olive skin and cupping your cheeks rambling about how happy he was to see you.

God you wished you could’ve said the same, but you never had been a good liar.

From that very moment, trouble started.

Niragi always had been quite an insecure personality, always needing reassurance that you loved him still and that you weren’t getting annoyed by his presence. That was merely in high school though, now you were in the Borderland, and everything had changed.

Niragi had noticed your changed behaviour from day one. You no longer held much concern for him, even attempting to distance yourself. He grew frustrated, sometimes even bringing it up to you. But he always got nowhere because he would become angry at your unresponsive behaviour and end up yelling at you.

The space between you two did nothing but grow. It was a slow and painful process. It was as if each of you were on two platforms gripping a rope trying to pull the other close again, only the ropes you held were different, making both of you wish for something that wasn’t even existent anymore.

Your heart ached for his affection, for his love and care. He himself was not any better, missing your comforting words and reassuring compliments that he was doing fine, and that he was sane.

Perhaps that’s truly what sent him into a murderous mindset. The fact that he didn’t have you to tell him that he didn’t need to become a monster to appear stronger.

He never realised what a monster he had become until you walked back into his life. You alone reminded him too much of his old self, the one that actually cared.

In reality, you both wished for two things. While you wanted nothing more than the old Niragi waltzing back into your arms and making you feel grounded and safe, Niragi wished for you to accept him for who he was now, because he believed that he would never be able to return to his old, shy self.

Niragi truly realised that you were apart when you didn’t save him during a game. A sharp blade had caught itself on his Achilles, making him stumble and fall to the ground. When he saw you freeze up ahead with the rest of the group, he did nothing but give you the most emotional look he had given anyone during his time at The Beach. 

For a moment, you swore you could see old Niragi there, him looking up to you with a bloodied smile on his face after copping a fist across the jaw, laughing off his pain to make himself seem strong in front of you.

But just as you were about to lift your legs to attempt to help him, horrific images of Niragi holding guns to people came to your mind. Him blasting a bullet through the chest of a young man, yelling in satisfaction afterwards.

That was not your Niragi anymore, he was nothing but a murderer, projecting his own insecurities and problems onto other people.

And so you left him. You turned around and walked away without even the smallest bit of remorse or sympathy in your mind. Someone else would’ve been idiotic enough to help him, but not you.

As much as he hated to admit it, but after that game he crashed onto his own bed and cried for a solid hour, the image of your unremorseful face replaying back in his mind over and over. You truly had lost your love for him.

He really believed that he could have a happily ever after with you, even after all this time with being apart from you. He truly thought that he could continue this sappy love story with you.

“What ever happened to our happily ever after?” he asked out loud to himself, holding his fist to his mouth to muffle his violent sobs.

But not all love stories get a happily ever after, sometimes it’s just once upon a time.

Author’s Note: this is kind of similar to the Chishiya one so I’m sorry. I’m beginning to run out of ideas for this happily ever after prompt 😂

[silverinia]

in your best opinion, how many seasons do you think the good fight will be? i heard the kings signed a 5 year deal with CBS so I assume that’s a good thing? do you think Christine won’t mind continuing the role of Diane Lockhart?

Oof that's a tough one. And I'm probably going to ramble quite a bit, so... sorry for that in advance. [spoiler: I rambled]

I haven't really said this publicly but tbh, before this season started airing and Robert King explicitly tweeted that this wouldn't be the last season, I thought it was going to end this year. I just had a feeling, you know, especially with Cush and Delroy leaving. But I guess I was wrong.

I have honestly no idea for how long this show might end up going on, I feel like it's generally unrealistic to expect a spin-off to have more seasons than the original show, so I don't really see it having more than seven seasons in total, but considering that they're a streaming service original, the rules of basic television probably don't really apply here.

I feel like Christine is going to continue playing Diane for as long as the Kings would like her to. I thought about this a lot, a possible retirement or at least possibly having her move on from this role when The Gilded Age was first announced. But she has expressed her love for this show, the people involved and first and foremost the character she's been playing for over a decade now so often. I think she still revels in finally playing the lead role and I feel like whenever she talks about this character, you can really tell how closely she holds Diane to her heart. So I don't see her stepping back from the show until the showrunners or the network make her.

One thing I will say, though everyone here hopefully already knows how much I love this show, despite the passive-aggressive tweets I post all the time (I can't help it, my love language is complaining), I really hope that they won't drag it out to a point where they lose their grasp on the characters. I hope they won't end up repeating the same 5 plot lines, as so many shows tend to do when they've been airing for too long, and I hope they will end the show at a place where it still feels spectacular. There's this german saying, "Man soll gehen, wenn es am schönsten ist", which loosely translates to, "one should always leave on a high note", and I'd rather have them give us a mind-blowing spectacular ending at a point in time that feels way too early for my sappy, overly invested heart, than have them drag it out in countless seasons that will gradually get worse and worse, until there's not much left of the show we all fell in love with.

I'm going to be absolutely devastated when this show eventually ends. But I can live with it if it ends in a way that leaves the characters peaceful and happy and fulfilled, true to themselves and true to the show.

[shitty-marvel-fan732]

Boyfriend?

Author’s Note: 

Hello my friends! This is my first ever Loki x Reader oneshot, so I hope I didn’t do too poorly! This fic was beta-read by the wonderful @twentytwohearts​! 

If you end up liking this fic, let me know with a comment or reblog! I am taking requests for Loki as well as several other marvel characters, and if this fic inspires you, feel free to send one in!

Summary: Y/N and Loki have been getting closer for several weeks, but he’s still very ambivalent about their relationship status. Toss in a Stark party and an over eager fan and what will happen? 

IDEK y’all, I’m shit at summaries. Just…read it lol. 

“Mmmmm,” I hummed non-committedly as some older man in a suit more expensive than my entire life was worth continued rambling on next to me. I shifted uncomfortably in the ridiculous heels that Wanda had insisted I wear tonight, mentally groaning at the way they pinched my toes. I could already feel the blisters forming over the calloused soles of my aching feet.

 I was stuck at one of Tony’s famous parties, forced into a dress and heels by an overly zealous Sokovian, and hating every second. To add insult to my injury, I’d been caged into a conversation with one of the most boring, awkward men I’d ever met in my life. I couldn’t be sure exactly how long it’d been, but I did know it had been too long. I’d been subjected to literal torture, on multiple occasions, and even so I was sure this was worse. 

He seemed innocuous enough at first – albeit very awkward. He was thin and tall, with a slightly receding hairline and an air of a man that made more money than I could possibly fathom. As soon as I unintentionally made eye contact with him from across the crowded room, his face lit up like a Christmas tree. He immediately made a beeline over to me with all the excitement and grace of an overexcited labrador puppy. He’d launched into conversation instantly, chatting eagerly about my abilities and past as if he had lived it himself. It was more than a bit creepy really how many details he knew about me and my life. 

At first, I was polite – smiling and nodding along with him as he animatedly spoke, all the while internally wishing to be literally anywhere else. I supplied as little as possible to our little chat, desperately hoping he would run out of steam and leave. But after what felt like hours, it was clear he wasn’t going to take the hint. I finally determined it’d been long enough, so I tried to gracefully leave the conversation. 

Unfortunately, all my attempts  fell on deaf ears. Though I was certain any sane person would’ve understood how uncomfortable I was based solely on body language, the eager man was evidently unaware of my obvious attempts to end our interaction, verbal or otherwise. He was either the most socially inept dude to have ever lived or the most persistent fan I’d ever encountered. Personally, I was beginning to think it was a bit of both, but regardless I was more than ready to leave politeness behind and tell him point-blank to fuck off. If it hadn’t been for Tony’s lecture beforehand about not doing exactly that, I probably would have done it already. 

Eyes scanning the room, I desperately looked for a way out of the encounter. After a few seconds my eyes fell upon Steve’s sympathetic gaze. 

Cap and I had known each other for a long time, and he knew as well as I did that if I didn’t find a socially acceptable way out soon that I’d resort to less than polite tactics to remove this dude from my side. He nodded once at me in understanding, before excusing himself from his own conversation and disappearing into the crowd. 

“So, I don’t know if I’d mentioned it or not yet, but you look really really good tonight,” the red-faced man standing next to me said loudly, pulling my attention away from Cap. Though internally I was screaming, I simply shot him a polite thin-lipped smile. 

“You did. Thank you once again,“ I replied shortly. He had, in fact, mentioned this multiple times tonight, and I was beginning to feel my patience run dangerously thin. He was evidently not fazed by my facial expression nor the irritated tone of my voice, and only smiled wider at my response. 

Fortunately for me, his next comment was cut off by the sudden presence of another body pressed to my back. At first I tensed, unsure of the contact, but felt myself relax as I recognized the familiar feel of leather armor-clad arms wrapping themselves securely around my waist. 

“I’ll never understand how you mortals can have spoken a language your entire lives and still not have an adequate grasp over its use,” Loki interrupted smoothly, breath fanning my ear as he spoke. I had to bite down on my lower lip to keep from laughing at the look on the poor man’s face as he realized who was standing behind me. 

” I– uhm. I’m sorry, what?“ the man stuttered out, confusion and fear overtaking his features. 

“Good. You said my dearest Y/N looked ‘really good’ tonight,” came Loki’s smooth reply. “Now, perhaps there is some kind of midgardian norm that I am unaware of, or maybe you have some sort of deficiency that’s affecting your eyesight? Nevertheless, I would feel remiss if I did not mention how many different adjectives there are to describe Y/N at this moment: radiant, elegant, sublime, exquisite, just to name a few among the many there are. Hundreds more I’d wager, but of all the words in the dictionary you chose ‘good’? Hm.”

The man’s face visibly paled as the Prince spoke, and I could feel the irritation and possessiveness seeping from his body with each word he spoke. His body tensed against my back and I could instantly tell that he was growing angry and impatient with the man before us.  My hands came to rest over the tops of his; I began gently rubbing soft circles into his flesh in an effort to soothe him. Though I secretly adored the praise and affirmation of his feelings, I’d promised Tony not to cause a scene, and I was certain that promise extended to Loki as well. I’d spent the better part of my evening desperately trying to be good, and I’d be damned if I was going to let all that effort go to waste simply because a certain dark-haired Asgardian couldn’t control his temper. Thankfully, I felt the tall god lean slightly into my touch, his tense form relaxing gradually.

“I’m so sorry…I had no — I didn’t know that he was your…that you were his…” the man floundered and I began to feel a twinge of pity for his clear distress. 

“Boyfriend?” I supplied with a small chuckle. The man nodded frantically, however his reaction was overshadowed by the Asgardian behind me. I felt Loki tense in response to my words, and I turned my head to see his beautiful face distorted into a grimace.

Of course. 

I’d been so thankful for his presence I’d clearly forgotten about his seeming discomfort with the label. Loki clearly despised the term, and never failed to make his feelings known.Though in the past months I’d grown exceptionally close to the god of mischief, he and I had never truly spoken about our 'relationship’. 

  Much to Loki’s discomfort, I often referred to him as my boyfriend. In turn he referred to me as “dear Y/N,” “my pet,” “love,” or something of the like. Though it didn’t bother me at first, I was beginning to feel very insecure at his seeming inability to label our relationship. Each time the word was brought up he always reacted just as he was now: visibly uncomfortable and dismayed. 

With every scowl, every look of disgust I felt a tiny pang in my heart that was only growing larger with each instance. Tonight was no exception, and I felt my face physically drop in response to his reaction. My palms began uncomfortably sweating, and I detangled myself from his arms as nonchalantly as possible. My thoughts were clouded with a haze of disappointment. The room began to feel too busy – the voices all seeming to scream directly into my ear and the air thick and suffocating. 

Suddenly feeling ill, I muttered an excuse and began to walk away from the two. No longer caring about how I was seen, I walked quickly through the crowd of people and out into the hallway. I braced myself against the wall as I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. My head was spinning with disjointed thoughts as I took deep breaths of the cool air. I pulled the God-forsaken heels from my feet roughly, desperate to give myself some degree of comfort as I slowly came back to reality. I leaned my head against the wall in exhaustion – my mind practically screaming taunts of embarrassment and shame. 

When Thor had first arrived unannounced to the tower with the trickster in tow, the team and I had been largely skeptical. However, in time Loki proved himself to have indeed been “rehabilitated,” and after a while Steve and Tony had allowed him to start going on missions with the team. Slowly but surely the two of us began to bond; at first it was over his fascination with my abilities and our mutual love of literature, but as the weeks went by I found myself developing feelings I didn’t quite understand for the lanky god. To my extreme surprise, I began to feel that my affections were reciprocated. The last few weeks had been wonderful– the two of us had fallen into a natural rhythm of spending time together, both on missions and otherwise.

Reflecting back on our time spent together, I felt the tiny pang of insecurity grow larger in my chest, filling me with feelings of shame and embarrassment. Clearly, Loki didn’t feel the same about our relationship as I did, if it could even be classified as such. And why should he? He was a Prince – a literal god – and I was just a lowly mortal. I was a fool. A pitiful, lovestruck girl that fell for someone who would never love her the same. It was depressing really. I chuckled humorlessly as I realized how sappy and teen-novelesque my situation had become. 

“Love?” his voice drifted into my ears, effectively pulling me out of my thoughts for the moment. I kept my head hung low and eyes trained on the floor. The knots in my stomach tightened their grip at the usually welcomed sound of his voice. My mind only raced faster as he approached me and my heart beat wildly out of control. 

I felt familiar, soft fingers hook their way under my chin as Loki gently lifted my face to meet his. His expression was one of irritation – likely lingering from the interaction with that insufferable businessman – but his green-blue eyes swam with a much gentler sort of feeling. Though he rarely showed true emotion on his face, his eyes were a different story. Impossibly deep and full of secrets, they always betrayed his true feelings. I’d become close enough to the lanky god in the past weeks that I was able to decipher those emotions with stunning accuracy. Currently, his eyes exuded feelings of concern and affection. 

“Are you alright?” he questioned gently. I exhaled lightly. 

“I’m fine.” I muttered, eyes turning downwards once more. Loki’s eyes sparkled with slight amusement as one of his brows quirked upwards. 

“So bold of you my dear, to attempt to withhold the truth from the god of lies,” he teased, lips curling into a lopsided smirk. 

All the feelings of embarrassment and shame abruptly shifted within me at the sight of his smug face. Internally, my overwhelming sadness was turning to anger and resentment quicker than I could control. 

“I’m not lying!“ I snapped, brows furrowing and body practically jumping away from his. His expression morphed from amused to concerned instantly, forehead crinkling in confusion. 

“Is this about that infuriating man back there?” he questioned, confusion and worry evident in his tone. “If so, please don’t trouble yourself any longer over the matter. I think I’ve made it perfectly cle–”

“He was sweet Loki,” I grumbled stubbornly, cutting him off. Although I had absolutely no desire to return to a conversation with him, the man was clearly well-intentioned. I’d actually forgotten all about him – but I couldn’t stand to hear Loki make some excuse for my poor mood.

He recoiled slightly at my display of irritation, surprised. I’d never interrupted him before and it was obvious he was even more perplexed than before with the unexpected outburst. Never one to show weakness, his face abruptly shifted to his typical expressionless mask. 

  “Sweet? You didn’t seem to think so whilst he was harassing you before, now did you?” he questioned cooly. “I know your face well enough by now, dearest Y/N, and your eyes were practically screaming for assistance.”

I scoffed, arms coming to rest petulantly across my chest. 

“Well if you know me as well as you claim, then by all means you should have no problem understanding why I’m upset,” I huffed, hoping he took the bait and simply asked why I was upset. Instead, I was infuriated as I watched a sly grin make its way across his handsome features. 

“But I thought you weren’t upset sweetling?” he grinned. He looked extremely proud of himself – clearly ecstatic to have coerced me into admitting that I’d lied, even though he’d known so since the start. 

Ordinarily I adored his intelligence – delighting in hearing the inner workings of his mind – but right now his display of wit combined with the smug expression he was sporting made my fists tingle with the urge to punch him straight in the face. I could feel my face burn red with anger at the sly remark and my eyes narrowed into near slits. 

“Oh, shut up Loki,” I snapped. “Clearly, we both know I’m pissed." 

"Then by all means, please enlighten me, because I evidently don’t understand,” he taunted. Though his words were laced with his trademarked contempt, I could see the twinge of concern still evident in his eyes. The small indication that he seemed to care about me caused all the feelings of sadness and insecurity to bubble back up to the surface. I sighed, taking a breath to steady myself before deciding to just dive right into what was sure to be an extremely awkward conversation.

“I don’t understand you! Or – I guess – I don’t understand us. What we are. I mean, are you ashamed of me because I’m not from Asgard or something? Or do you just not feel the same way I do? Oh god, I’ve completely misinterpreted everything haven’t I? I’m so stupid, I–” I babbled quickly, words slurring together with speed and face flushing. 

Loki’s soft hands came to rest on my arms, effectively cutting off my panicked ramblings. His facial expression was a strange mix of pity, fear, and confusion that I’d never seen before. I felt tears begin to prick the corners of my eyes and a burning sensation overwhelmed my sinuses. I cast my eyes downward once more, suddenly filled with self-pity and feeling extremely exposed. Loki was having none of that – his gentle fingers came to rest under my chin, pulling my face back up to meet his gaze once more. 

“Why in all the nine realms would you think I don’t feel the same?” he mused softly, brows dipping lower with concern and fingers gently caressing my face. “Have I not made my affections clear?”

“Well, you tell me, Loki. When we’re alone I think I know where we stand, but then there are incidents like tonight that make me think differently. I mean, you visibly cringe when I refer to you as my boyfriend…" I started, frown deepening at his visible recoil at the term. “See! Just like that, what is that? Do you not consider us together? Are we not, oh god, I dunno exclusive?”

Loki sighed, removing his hands from my face and rubbing his face tiredly. He looked like a parent exasperated with their child. Though I was pretty sure that wasn’t his intention, the small action reignited the spark of anger and resentment I’d felt before, and the overwhelming urge to punch him in his stupid handsome face returned abruptly. 

“You know what, whatever. I don’t care what you refer to me as anymore Loki. Better yet, just don’t refer to me at all,“ I spat, turning angrily on my heel and stomping away. 

I didn’t make it more than a few steps before I felt a hand on my bicep and I was twirled back around. Suddenly I was chest to chest with an extremely pissed off looking god. Never one to back down from confrontation, I glared definantly into his face. His eyes were almost eerie, a stormy mix of blue and green that reminded me of a sea just before a hurricane. His expression was nearly unreadable as his face searched mine – mouth set in a thin line and dark brows furrowed in anger. 

“You truly think so little of me and of yourself that you assume that I am embarrassed by you?” he practically seethed. “Darling, I could never and will never be embarrassed by your presence in my life. Do not mistake my reluctance to use trivial, midgardian terms as a reluctance to share my infatuation with you.”

My eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, silently urging him to continue since I clearly was not understanding what he was getting at. He exhaled loudly, hand leaving my arm to run through his inky locks in another show of exasperation. 

“I don’t understand,” I muttered, still hoping to prompt him into further explanation. His eyes seemed to soften marginally as they swept over my face. I was beginning to feel nearly uncomfortable under the god’s heavy gaze, but (as was usually the case) I also felt the all too familiar feelings of butterflies in my lower belly that only Loki’s attention seemed to stir. After an immeasurable length of time, he sighed once more, soft fingers parting from his sides to come to rest on my body. One of his hands reached down to latch onto the curve of my waist firmly. He pulled our chests flush with one another gently. The other fluttered delicately to the side of my face, thumb rubbing small circles into the soft flesh. My own palms came to rest across the smooth planes of his armor-clad chest – an action my body took without having to consult with my mind first. 

“Dearest, I think I should first apologize for the way my actions have made you feel,” he started gently, voice low in tone and volume and words practically dripping with affection and remorse as he looked down at me. “Never in all the time I’ve spent with you have I noticed any signs of your discomfort; if I had, we would’ve had this discussion much sooner.”

I swallowed thickly, unsure of where he was going with this. Though I wanted him to get on with it and just tell me how he felt, part of me wished I’d never brought the subject up to begin with. Feelings of indecision and doubt made their home in the pit of my stomach as I waited impatiently for him to continue. 

“As you know I often, shall we say, struggle to make sense of the customs and norms here,” he continued. “Though I’ve read vast amounts on the subject, I can’t seem to quite grasp the ‘normal’ way of life here – especially when it comes to your people’s courting traditions.”

I felt my wrinkled brows quirk upwards in surprise, not expecting the conversation to turn this way. My heart hammered so loudly in my chest with anticipation, I was sure he could hear it. If he could, he didn’t let it show. His gaze never wavered from my own – grey-blue eyes swimming with vulnerability as they surveyed my face. 

"As you’d probably expect, things are done much differently on Asgard. What you refer to as 'dating’ we call 'courting’, and the expectations and labels wildly differ. We call our partners  'Kærasti’ when speaking of them to others and 'elskan mín' when speaking with one another. Both of which translate loosely to 'my darling loved one’,” he explained softly. 

A short intake of breath nearly brought me out of the trance I’d felt like I’d been under the entire time Loki had been speaking. His gentle words and piercing gaze had been almost hypnotic; I’d spent the better part of the last few moments wholly enthralled by the smooth timbre of his voice, savoring the affection he radiated with each word. The words  'elskan mín' filtered its way through my ears into the fog that was . Though still foreign to my ears, I knew I’d heard the phrase before. 

“And, if I’m correct, the customary term for partners on this realm is 'boyfriend/girlfriend’?” he questioned gently. I nodded dumbly, still in too much of a daze to properly form words. “Ahh, and you see therein lies my problem. Why should I devalue my feelings for you with such a loose, meaningless term? I much prefer the ones used back home. Terms that are more…descriptive of the state of our partnership.”

I was still moderately struggling to process what was being said, my mind consumed mostly of observations on his voice and eyes. But as I struggled to decipher his words, a realization struck me like a bullet. I suddenly realized where I’d heard the term 'elskan mín' before. It was in another lovestruck trance, memories a million miles away from this dimly lit hallway that my ears had picked up the endearing phrase for the first time. 

Spoken in hushed murmurs by the very same god that was explaining the meaning to me now. 

Spoken to me.

A blush began to creep its way up my neck at the stark realization, mortification the likes of which I’d never experienced before crashing over me like a tsunami. Whether he truly was a mind reader (I hadn’t ever been truly convinced that he wasn’t) or if my reddened face and sheepish expression had alerted him to my obvious embarrassment, he seemed to understand immediately. The hand that had been softly caressing my hip gave me a small squeeze of encouragement. Even with the affectionate gesture, the urge to bury myself as deeply into the floor as possible was still raging in my chest. 

“Oh,” I squeaked. His eyes sparkled with amusement and his lip curled into his dazzling smirk. 

“I gather, based on your reaction tonight, that you made the incorrect assumption that I was – what – disgusted by the idea of a monogamous relationship?” he asked plainly, getting straight to the point. Once again I nodded silently, my mind still too overworked to speak.

My face was burning with embarrassment, and I buried my head into his chest in a vain effort to hide from his amused gaze. Loki chuckled – the vibrations reverberating through his body and tickling my face. I couldn’t see his expression from my position, but I could picture it perfectly in my mind. The skin around his eyes was very likely crinkled from the size of his smile and his eyes a bright, clear blue lit brightly with a sparkle of amusement. The mental image alone was enough to send happy butterflies swirling around in my stomach, despite the lingering embarrassment. His arms left my sides as he chuckled – one closed itself around my back, pulling me securely against his chest, and the other came to rest on the base of my neck. His long fingers gently entangled themselves in the hair at the base of my head. His cheek found its home on the crown of my head, and I could feel his smooth lips gently place a kiss there. I shivered lightly at the sensation, embarrassment fading a marginal amount at the comforting embrace. 

“Well, as thoroughly enjoyable as I find your sheepish state, I think we should clarify things,” he murmured softly against my hair. I hummed in agreement, waiting for him to start. 

“My love, I truly am sorry that I ever made you doubt the feelings I have for you,” he whispered, causing yet another blush to break out across my face. “But I hope it’s enough that I tell you now. I am so infatuated with you, my dear Y/N, I do not care to hide that fact from anyone. I would tell anyone the same – especially irritating men like the one you were chatting with tonight. The hesitation you perceived has absolutely nothing to do with my affections for you, nor does it indicate a desire to be free from labels. I simply loathe the overly simplified, descriptionless terms that are the norm on this planet. But if it makes you happy, I’m sure I can –”

“No!” I blurted, cutting his next statement off completely. My head rose from its place nestled in Loki’s strong chest and my hands balled into fists atop the thick armor covering his chest in an effort to gain his attention. My eyes searched his, and based on the surprise and confusion evident in his pale blue irises, I would wager that I looked at least a little crazy in this moment. It wasn’t like me to interrupt him while speaking and this was the second time in mere hours that I’d done so. My neck warmed marginally as I spoke up, the now familiar feelings of embarrassment rising within me once more as I looked upwards at the amused expression on Loki’s handsome face. I shoved the embarrassment back down, steadying myself with a deep breath before I spoke. 

“Sorry. I just – I don’t want you to change the way you act around me, at all,” I stammered, confidence deflating slightly as I realized I didn’t actually quite know what I wanted to say. He wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion, eyes roaming across my reddened face in search of answers. “I mean, it’s okay with me, whatever you choose to refer to me as. As long as I’m the only one you refer to.”

His face broke out into the devilish smirk that made my knees go weak. I suddenly had slight trouble standing upright. Luckily for me, his strong arms were still wrapped around my frame, and he had no qualms about holding me tighter in his embrace. He pulled me closer to his body with one arm as his other snaked its way up to the side of my face. Loki’s thumb rubbed gently across my mouth as we gazed at each other, making my head go cloudy with memories of his smooth lips pressed against mine. He leaned down so close to my face that I could feel the warmth across my lips from each breath he took. The feelings of affection and anticipation curled themselves in my belly with such intensity that I almost missed his soft voice as he replied. 

“Are you sure elskan mín?” he whispered, tone teeming with an off-character level of uncertainty. Though his voice made him seem unsure his body reacted as it always did when we were alone.  His lips were so close to mine now that I could feel them brush teasingly against me with each tender word. I felt my brain short-circuit at the brief touch. Though there was still so much to be said, so much to discuss, I couldn’t handle the irritating distance between us for another second. So I grabbed the sides of his face and pulled his lips down to mine in lieu of a response. My fingers traced aimless patterns across the smooth planes of his sharp jawline as our lips tangled in an all too familiar dance. 

Though we’d shared more than our fair share of kisses in the past months, this one felt different somehow. Each place his hands touched felt like they left a trail of fire in their wake and the way his lips moved against mine felt almost possessive. My entire being felt like it was floating on pure air as we kissed, and I felt extreme disappointment when I had to pull back to breathe. Evidently, Loki did not share my need for oxygen, and he continued to place small kisses across my face. Through my labored breathing and the love-filled haze that was clouding my thoughts I was still able to internally swoon at the sweet action. Typically, Loki was just as he appeared to be: calm, self-assured, and reluctant to express his affection, lest he become vulnerable. But it seemed that he wasn’t too concerned with showing his vulnerability at the moment, and the feeling of his soft lips roaming across the skin of my face and neck caused the butterflies in my belly to swarm with glee. 

Eventually he slowed his affectionate attack, and his forehead came to rest against mine. We stood like this for an immeasurable amount of time, eyes closed, neither of us speaking a word as the muffled sounds of the party filtered in from the hall. I smiled, elated as my eyes fluttered open and I drank in my favorite sight – Loki, at his most exposed. His eyes were still closed, breathing slightly ragged, a small but genuine smile gracing his thin lips, and the normally creamy skin of his cheeks blotchy with patches of pink. There was no greater feeling in this world than seeing him in such an utterly blissful state and knowing I was somehow lucky enough to have been the cause. 

“Yes.” I whispered gently, hesitant to break the peaceful cocoon that we’d encased ourselves in. Loki’s eyelids opened lazily, revealing the pale blue color that I’d come to dream about. 

“Yes?” he repeated questioningly. I giggled lightly at the look of slight confusion that painted the handsome god’s features. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” I explained patiently. A flash of understanding passed his face at the statement, and his face broke out into yet another knee-buckling smile. He leaned his head down towards mine – no doubt about to capture my lips in a sweet kiss. Though my body was screaming against the movement, I ducked my head backwards to avoid his kiss. His brows furrowed in confusion, the creases on his forehead deepening at the amused giggle that escaped me at the sight. 

“I am sure, but can you do me one favor?” I asked innocently. His face remained puzzled as he slowly nodded. His hands resumed their previous ministrations, smoothly running down the length of my body and back as we stood. 

“Can you not make a face like you’ve smelled something bad when someone uses the word boyfriend? Cause I don’t care how cute you are, I am never going to be cool with that,” I requested semi-jokingly. Loki merely blinked for a moment, a stunned look on his face as he took in my words. I felt a tingle of insecurity pass through my chest at his reaction, but waited patiently for a response nonetheless. 

After what felt like hours, the look of stunned confusion passed his features as his most genuine, face-splitting smile took over. He chuckled as he pulled me closer into his chest – the sound sending waves of relief through me as I snuggled readily into his embrace.

“Duly noted, my love.”

[paperclipninja]

Younger post-ep ramble 7x01

I joked in my finale ramble at the end of season 6 that the episode was called ‘Forever’ because that’s how long it would feel between seasons...well joke's on me because now, after 587 days, we are FINALLY here. The Younger drought has been a tough one, but we have been generously compensated by getting the first four episodes all at once, which is both exciting and also, turns out, incredibly overwhelming. As usual the thoughts and feelings are many, mostly feelings (read: I am NOT ok) but let’s start off with a delve into the premiere episode, ‘A Decent Proposal’.

The episode picks up within minutes of where the season 6 finale left off, with Diana and Enzo not wasting any time to hot foot it out of their wedding reception and into their happily ever after (Arrivederci bitches!). Of course I’m very happy for Diana and her happiness but there’s only one couple’s happiness that I am on tenterhooks about now that Diva is sorted and that is Charles and Liza, as they watch their sprinklers fizzle out in some sort of awkward, symbolic, anti-climax. 

You may recall that mere moments earlier, Charles had popped the question on the dancefloor before the two were separated by an obligatory conga line, and Charles quickly assumes that Liza’s lack of enthusiasm to shout her answer across the reception of another person’s wedding is an answer in itself. As anyone who has read my rambles before knows, I unapologetically fly the Team Charles flag, and let me tell you, despite her supreme stalling techniques (you’re not divorced yet, we should probably speak to the children blah blah), hearing Liza say, ‘my answer is, I love you’, my jaw hit the floor. I’m sorry, did Liza Miller just declare her feelings openly and directly and with absolute certainty??? We’re 33 seconds into the new season and I AM SHOOKETH DARREN. 

Speaking of declaring feelings openly and directly, I love absolutely everything about this opening scene. The music choice was perfect and really helped build the moment, as Charles told Liza he understands her hesitation before un-asking her to marry him (so that when the she’s made her mind she can pop the question - I kid you not, this has always been my dream...). The music cutting out and just hearing the crickets as Liza asks if he’s really withdrawing the proposal, his quip about her having to make the next move, assuming he’s still on the market (I love/hate this foreshadowing btw), it is Charles/Liza banter at its best and my sappy heart was soaking up every morsel. Throw in some CGI fireworks and the observation that they are sign (which may or may not play out at a later date) and you have yourself a pretty darn near perfect start to Younger’s final season.

Speaking of talking openly and directly, one of the staples of the Youngerverse, the Maggie morning debrief, is back as our way to gain insight into the thoughts, feelings and ponderings of Liza. Straight off the bat I am very pleased that Maggie has fully committed to ‘Chaz’ for Charles and I’m even happier that we actually hear these two talking about what’s going on because honestly, the last couple of seasons the Maggie/Liza convos, which we traditionally rely on heavily to know where Liza is at and to hear Maggie’s sage/sometimes terrible advice, have been skimmed over or felt rushed. We are also reminded that Liza has indeed seen Charles’ goods (the Empiriconda, she’s meaning the Empiriconda) and that the sex is hot, because we need to have all the information on top of the declarations of love to highlight how their relationship is pretty much perfect so that what transpires is even more painful.

Other things that are painful include the fact that Diana will be decidedly absent for most of the season (to be fair scheduling/covid are pretty legit reasons and in ep 1 we can chalk that up to her honeymoon, so more lamenting on that later), but early on it provides some pretty fab Lauren Diva-worshiping. Donning a baroque print Moschino suit that would’ve made Fran Fine jealous, Lauren is clearly distracted by the responsibility of her interim role at Empirical, as her mother frets about the theme for her 30th birthday party over face-time.

Keeping up the chaotic energy, we also discover that Kelsey has to go and let Quinn know she no longer needs her money (these characters’ ongoing relationship with the woman who has tried to ruin all of them at some point really needs unpacking with a good therapist at this stage) and Josh is in full frantic dad mode because he thinks Clare is trying to kidnap Gemma (lol that Lauren straight up calls her out on it later). Two quick points here:1) love seeing this side of Josh and 2) love Kelsey’s calm, measured reassurance that of course Clare would want her family to meet Gemma. I will say though, Josh meeting Rob for the first time when he’s about to go with Clare and Gemma to Ireland and hearing this guy he doesn’t know from a bar of soap exclaim, ‘I’m just in love with your daughter’ was super unfair. Not cool Clare, not cool. 

Kelsey keeps her cool as she breaks the news of her change of heart to our fave resident villain, who comes complete with a bowl of fortune cookies she ominously encourages Kelsey to consult while also enjoying her own fortune, ‘a new love will come into your life’. It’s all very OTT and ridiculous in it’s obvious foreshadowing and I am here for every minute of it because I sincerely love to hate Quinn very much.

My love of all things over the top is further fed by Lauren entering Diana’s office and making her way to the desk - the music, the way Lauren looks at the framed picture of Diana and Enzo before relegating it to the drawer, any moment I was expecting her to utter ‘my precious’ as she became more and more entranced by the power of the neckwear, before Liza abruptly broke the spell by asking what she was doing and warned her off her consideration of claiming Diana’s office as her own. Very much appreciated the continuity later in the episode when Liza is very distressed that Lauren has gone full-Trout with the chunky baubled ornament around her neck, though Lauren is less Invasion of the Body Snatchers and more Nancy Drew at this point, as she has caught wind of Charles’ proposal while reviewing video footage from Diana’s wedding which she decided, for some reason, to show Josh, who was ‘still not interested’ (we hear your words Josh but your face says otherwise). I am very on board the Liza/Lauren dynamic and their ‘circle of trust’ as Liza asks that Lauren keep the proposal to herself (we really haven’t seen the friendship between these two much) and Liza’s gratitude, ‘Thank you...Di-va’, is hilarious, as is the response, ‘my pleasure, Queen’.

We get many fine moments in the office this ep, the first meeting when there are formal announcements and speeches made welcoming Kelsey back...to a conference room of Charles, Liza, Lauren and a random guy we’ve never seen or heard from before and never will again it seems. It makes me laugh that every person in the room except the dude we’ll never know already knows everything but hey, formality is important I guess? The pitch for ‘Little Women in Space’ by an author played by an actress who is friends IRL with Sutton Foster and they were in the musical Little Women together is honestly too much but also just the right amount and this show does meta so well (not to mention Lauren’s excited outburst upon realising her party theme plus her making sure Liza knows that she knows about the proposal. Subtle as a sledgehammer is our Lauren). 

One not-so-fine moment is the extremely out of left field resignation of Zane followed by the completely douchey moment of him breaking up with Kelsey via face-time with the line, ‘I love you Kelsey, take care’. I’m sorry, what?? On the one hand, I get it that CMD wasn’t available for the season so in some respects better to deal with it swiftly and move on, but it was very abrupt and strange. I had zero investment in the pairing so it doesn’t overly affect my viewing, but any fans out there shipping those two, are you ok? Because that was a brutal way for a pairing to simply cease to exist.

So we have I love yous being thrown around by Kelsey and Zane as they break up because that makes sense (in retrospect I should’ve seen what was coming because these words clearly mean NOTHING *breathes deeply, exhales slowly*) but thank goodness Liza is there to comfort Kelsey, whose statement that she really doesn’t care would be a lot more convincing if she wasn’t crying inconsolably. We get a beautiful transition from Kelsey’s office to Charles’ with a sweeping aerial shot across the autumnal canopy of Central Park along with the gentle music adding to the relaxed pacing of the episode. Liza doesn’t want it to be weird between her and Charles now that the proposal is out there (well actually, its 100% in her court but yes), so he reassures her it’s not weird at all by planting a kiss on her that almost triggers the sprinklers because friends, it is HOTTT. Cue super cute exchange about pro and cons lists, lovingly looking into one another’s eyes and then, another ‘ I love you’ from Liza to Charles followed by Charles responding, ‘I love you too’, and despite my deceased status at this point, it was magical. But also WHAT. IS. HAPPENING. 

These two are so enamoured with one another and it’s as though it’s something they just say to each other all the time, but this is literally the first episode we’ve heard any kind of expression of feelings to one another since the season 6 premiere and even then it wasn’t this direct; Liza ran away and Charles told her he didn’t mind not being at the office because he did it for the woman he loves followed by a cute story about how he can do maths because he’s had feelings for her for 16 years. Don’t get me wrong, the entire scene this episode was perfect and it was SO well done in the way it captured the best parts of their dynamic (damn you Darren Star for being so good at what you do), but it also felt like we were being shown the dream version of what could have been before it’s all snatched away.

Not unlike Millennial, which is like naming a business Boomer Print according to the table of boomers at the investor meeting who blindside Kelsey and Charles by voting to restore the name Empirical (head boomer has clearly had it with millennials, indicated by his statement, ‘who gives a shit about millennials any more?’) and so it is done and Kelsey is officially having a very bad week. It is while enjoying a quiet bourbon in the bar that evening that Charles is joined by Quinn, who is allegedly on her apology tour to explain to investors why she dropped out of the Senate race, but also offers Charles what seems to be a sincere apology for treating his company like a toy (prediction: nothing is ever as it seems with Quinn). I have a confession to make and believe me, I don't like it any more than you do - they absolutely nailed the set up of tension and a little bit of a spark between Charles and Quinn in this scene IMO and I...I *whispers* I liked it.

What I liked even more was Lauren’s completely in character entrance to her own birthday party, omg it’s so ridiculous and perfectly her and Denise telling her daughter, ‘fix your crotch, good girl’ had me chuckling. I feel like we’re getting Kelsey’s set up for the season at this party too, as she’s feeling unsure of what defines her now, and the conversation about defining things carries over into Josh and Liza’s chat when he asks her if congratulations are in order. This exchange between the two of them is just lovely, with Liza clearly feeling a little awkward talking to Josh about Charles, but Josh reassures her that he does like him, for her, and that it brings him joy to know she’s happy. They agree that their relationship doesn’t need to be defined, and that they'll always be in each others’ lives no matter who they’re with. It feels very final for their romantic relationship and I would be celebrating the end of the triangle had I not clocked Josh’s fallen expression as Liza walks away. I really do hope that Josh finds someone he loves and who loves him the way he wants to be loved this season. Josh’s words gave Liza some clarity of her own and so we find ourselves at the magnificent Seaglass Carousel, home of Liza and Charles’ first proper date, once more.

Charles is clearly full of hope and expectation as he meets Liza and they remember the time he and the beard we try to forget about brought her there and it’s all amazing and beautiful and...*collects self*...Liza tells him that she just wants to keep riding the perfect ride. She once again tells him she loves him (we’re up to three times in one ep now for those of you playing at home), that all she wants is his heart and that she wants to be happily unmarried to him every day. To say this does not go down the way she is expecting is an understatement; we learn that Charles doesn’t want a ride, he wants to get off the carousel and not live in a fantasy. He believes in marriage whereas she believes they are now finally free and folks, this is why you talk about your stance on marriage in a relationship BEFORE you pop the question out of nowhere at someone’s wedding. 

You can see on his face, as Liza says she doesn’t want to define their relationship by the rules and obligations of marriage, that he’s hearing that she is not all in (whether that’s true or not) and he thanks her for letting him know what’s in her heart. You know the bit that actually plunges the knife into my heart? Charles shaking his head as Liza says his name, clearly overcome with emotion, before he kisses her on the head looking as though his world has just come crumbling down around him. That knife just gets twisted even further as Liza is left there in disbelief, (we are all Liza in that moment honestly), trying to process how her own declaration could be so easily rejected. You know, I knew it was coming, but it didn’t make it any less painful. I can see it from both perspectives and I have no doubt that these two characters have a lot they need to address and work through as a result of their own failed marriages if they’re going to have healthy relationships moving forward. 

I tell you what, after so long with no new episodes, this first episode of the season was concurrently beautiful and heart-breaking and one thing’s for certain - this final ride ain’t gonna be smooth. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m just going to go and regain some composure so we can start on ep 2...

Season 6 ramble collection can be found here

[the-silvr-speedster]

The Totally Crazy Adventures of the Astro Ambassadors

Fandom: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Relationships: Daisy Johnson / Daniel Sousa, Daisy Johnson & Kora, Kora & Daniel Sousa

After they return from their six-month mission in space, Daisy, Daniel and Kora want just a bit of peace and quiet before they are shipped off on another space adventure. But Mack has other plans for them since they are needed for one more short mission. However, things might not go according to plan and without the extraction team, they have to rely on a teleporting device they've never used before.

Chapter 1: Just One More Adventure

Read on AO3 or here ↓

I teased last week that I am working on something and now I deliver. It took me longer then anticipated, the story started to write itself so it was taking different turns than those I originally planned, and I was unfortunatelly most productive only from midnight until 4 a.m. Anyway, here is my new multichapter fic. I hope you like it. Updates should come every week on Wednesday. Hopefully. 

I am sorry for any mistakes. I don’t have a beta.

So, the story begins in October 2020 (oh, how much I would love to live in their corona-free universe), about four months after the one year jump in the last episode. 

It will totally make my day better if you leave kudos, comments or reblog this. I need positive motivation.

Happy reading!

“I like this,” Daisy mumbled contently, twirling a reddish maple leaf in her fingers absentmindedly. She was sprawled on a blanket with her head placed on Daniel’s lap, watching the rustling leaves of the maple tree above her.

It was a nice day in early October. Warm enough for a picnic at their favorite spot in a park yet a bit chilly with the fresh autumn breeze but that was nothing a warm blanket and hot cocoa couldn’t solve.

Daniel stopped reading a book and looked down at her with a smile. “What in particular?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” Daisy said unsure, meeting his eyes. “This? Right now, right here. Us. The peace and quiet,” she paused before looking at him again. Seeing his amused expression, she added: “Hey, don’t look at me like that. I can appreciate peace and quiet.”

“Uh-huh. Right. But only for so long before you barge into another storm…or cause it,” Daniel laughed at her mock offended pout.

Daisy playfully smacked him on the arm. “That’s not true and you know it. I don’t cause problems anymore. I am the commander of Zephyr-3.”

“Hmm…Termans would disagree,” Daniel chuckled.

“Hey!” She gasped. “That was on Kora, not me!”

“If you say so,” Daniel shrugged and picked the book up again, a teasing grin spreading on his face. “Quake.”

Daisy groaned. If she ever thought that he’s gonna drop the whole Quake thing after some time, she had never been more wrong. Not when most of the universe out there knows her as Quake.

“Don’t push your luck Danny-boy.”

“Or what? You quake me?” He asked her with a raised eyebrow and a glint in his eyes.

“Definitely not. It’s not a punishment when you actually want it,” she winked at him teasingly. “No, you will sleep on a couch.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t do that.”

“Yes, I would,” Daisy stuck her tongue out and then yelped when Daniel proceeded to tickle her. “You…really…wanna…find…out,” she managed to get out in between giggles.

When he finally stopped his attack, she took a moment to catch her breath, watching his smug expression. “You are a dork,” she said with a huge grin.

“I love you, too,” he told her, a tender smile playing on his lips.

She sat up and cupped his cheek in the palm of her hand. Daniel leaned into her touch and placed his hand on top of hers, the engagement ring on her finger lightly pressing against his palm. He moved her hand to his lips and placed a small kiss on her fingers, his eyes never leaving hers. Well, forget the cocoa, this warmed Daisy up much more. She closed the distance between them bringing their lips together in a short but sweet kiss.

“I love you,” she whispered like it was a secret kept just between the two of them. Their faces lingered close to each other for a while longer, just to enjoy their little bubble. Daisy then changed her position and leaned against Daniel’s side. He snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her even closer and placed a kiss on her temple before grabbing the forgotten book again.

Daisy let out a content sigh. “This is what I meant. I like being out there, exploring the universe with you and Kora and our team but…I love this, too. I missed it for those six months we were away. Just the two of us enjoying some time together without other people and…mission updates and…looming threats…” She looked up at him and let out a soft laugh. “I’m rambling now, aren’t I?”

“I like listening to your rambling,” he said and kissed her temple again. “And I know what you mean. I feel the same way. I like our adventures but I love our time together. Just the two of us. But hey, we have a couple of months before the next mission is scheduled. So, we are okay.”

“Yeah. We have a wedding to attend to,” Daisy grinned at him.

“Uh-huh.” Daniel looked at her with a small smile. “That wouldn’t be very nice if we didn’t show up there now, would it?”

“It definitely wouldn’t. We are too important,” she laughed lightly and put her head on his shoulder.

Daniel shifted his focus to the book again but before he resumed the reading, a memory crossed his mind and he let out a chuckle.

“What?” Daisy asked curiously.

“You know, the first time we came here to have a picnic you said ‘How very square of you’ and how sappy and tooth-rottingly sweet we sound and look. Sitting here under the tree, me reading to you, you laying on a blanket with your head in my lap always trying to hide that big smile of yours…and failing,” he laughed and shook his head. “And now…”

“And now I say I like it,” she mumbled into his shoulder and cringed as she said it. “I think I just…I guess I blame you for that,” she told him lightly.

“Me?” he asked jokingly, turning his head to look at her but Daisy kept staring at her fingers, playing with the engagement ring on her left hand.

“Yeah. I’ve never thought I would like something like this before I met you. An ordinary life. Well, as ordinary as one can get while still working for S.H.I.E.L.D.,” she chuckled softly. “And even before joining S.H.I.E.L.D….I’ve never thought I could have this. I just couldn’t see it for myself, growing up the way I did. And later I’ve thought I…I don’t deserve this.”

“Daisy- “

“So yeah. Uh…I still think we are overly sweet sometimes but…” she looked up and met Daniel’s warm brown eyes, “I like it. I always did. I’ve just never thought I could be this person. And I have you to thank for that. You showed me that I can be this person…that I deserve a little normalcy in my life.” She lowered her gaze again, her hands picking at his shirt this time.  “That I deserve to be loved and to love.”

“Of course, you deserve it. You deserve the best things in the universe,” Daniel put the book down and ran his hand through her hair before cupping her cheek and guiding her face to look up at him again. There were unshed tears shining in her beautiful eyes. She tried to blink them away offering him a watery smile. But then with a little shake of her head, she switched back to her joking self.

“Gah! Even now I sound so corny! I don’t even recognize myself sometimes. Kora says you are rubbing off on me. Making me a dorky square like yourself,” she smirked and poked him in the chest. “She says it’s annoying. But you know what? I don’t care.”

Daniel gave her his best lopsided grin. “Because you love this dorky square?”

“Yep. Exactly,” Daisy flashed him the biggest smile. “And…I like to annoy my little sister.”

They were suddenly interrupted by the ringing of Daisy’s phone. She sighed as her hand dived into the back pocket of her jeans, fishing it out. She cursed silently as she saw the caller ID flashing across the screen. There go peace and quiet.

“We were pushing our luck earlier. It’s Mack,” she informed Daniel with a sad smile, knowing that whatever it is, it will involve getting back to work, even if it’s Sunday.

“Hey Director, what’s up?” she asked him lightly.

“Hey Tremors,” Mack started with a tired sigh. The man just keeps working too much. “Listen, I know that it’s a weekend and you’ve just got back from space few days ago but I need you to come in. Both of you, assuming Sousa is there with you.”

“What’s going on? You sound tired,” Daisy remarked worriedly.

“I’ll disclose the details when you get here. Come as soon as you can,” he replied.

“Okay. Uh, we can be there in…thirty?” She said, uncertain, meeting Daniel’s eyes for confirmation. He nodded.

“Great. See you then.”

“See ya.” Daisy kept her eyes on Daniel and shrugged as the call ended.

“So, I guess we won’t finish the chapter today,” he commented, book in hand.

“I guess not.”

      ⁂

When the duo arrived at Triskelion some twenty minutes later, they bumped into Kora in the lobby. She looked a little disheveled, annoyed expression plastered on her face.

“I guess Mack called you guys, too. On Sunday of all days,” she mumbled with a hoarse voice.

“Were you…sleeping?” Daisy asked her, raising her eyebrows.

“And? It’s Sunday. We came back from space four days ago. I have a lot of sleep to catch up on. And I can finally sleep in a normal bed,” she defended herself fiercely.

“Ooookay. Let’s go find Mack and get this over with so we can all go home and relax…or whatever,” Daisy offered and started to walk towards the elevators.

When they reached Director’s office, Mack opened the door before they even had the time to knock. He quickly ushered them inside and closed the door behind them.

“What- “ Daisy started but Mack cut her off.

“Sagittarians contacted HQ earlier today. They want to meet up and discuss a potential alliance.”

“You really don’t beat around the bush, do you?” Daniel remarked and Mack just shrugged.

“Are you kidding me?” Daisy spoke up a little too loudly, clearly frustrated. “We stopped on Berhert less than two weeks ago on our way home and they refused to talk to us. What changed?”

“They didn’t care to elaborate on that. But they want to meet up today,” Mack informed the three agents.

“Yeah, that’s funny. Since it will take us almost two days to get there. It’s three jumps away and the jump drive needs to charge in between the jumps…so…not today,” Kora explained as she plopped into a chair with a heavy sigh.

“They know that. That’s why they are sending someone to get you,” Mack stated, his hand scratching his beard in thought. “Apparently, they have some kind of advanced tech for interstellar travel without the need to use a spaceship.”

“Well, they are known for their impressive technology. That much we gathered about them by visiting other planets. We didn’t see much ourselves since they didn’t give us the permission to land,” Daisy grumbled still frustrated after the last encounter with the aliens.

“But isn’t it just a different version of our jump drive?” Daniel asked, leaning against Mack’s table. “Like the one we have on the Zephyrs but it moves just people around the galaxy?”

“No. These jump drives…we didn’t invent them,” Mack tried to clarify. “We got one from a crashed Confederacy ship and recreated more, thanks to Deke. So, yeah, he basically stole the technology. The original one could teleport even people themselves without the need of a spaceship. But it was always a one-way trip unless there was another jump drive on the other side.”

“Meaning?” Daniel gave him a confused look.

“Meaning that whatever tech Sagittarians possess, they are probably teleported with the device in hand,” Daisy explained to him and then turned to face Mack. “But Deke redesigned the original jump drive to be wearable. Remember? He used it to get to the temple.”

“And failed to get back to the Lighthouse,” Mack remarked. “Look, whatever they have, we’ll see soon enough. But I have to say, having a device like that in S.H.I.E.L.D. would be very useful. You guys wouldn’t have to spend so much time drifting in between planets and could spend more time at home.”

“Sleeping in a normal bed,” Kora added dreamily.

Daisy raised an eyebrow at her and sighed. She had to admit that it would be a much more comfortable way for visiting planets.

“So, what are our orders Director?” she asked.

“Suit up. They’ll come to get you in two hours,” he paused, thinking. “If they will be willing to trade one of those devices, we have to come up with a suitable counteroffer.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” Daniel shrugged. “Considering how they refused to talk to us only to change their mind so suddenly. I don’t really trust them.”

“We’ll do our best and see how that goes,” Daisy fixed everyone with a determined gaze. “Let’s suit up.”

“Just one more adventure for the Astro Ambassadors before a few months break,” Daniel muttered pushing himself off the table.

Kora groaned and Daisy shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips as she led the way out of Mack’s office so they could get ready for their new mission.

       ⁂

Two hours later they were all gathered in the HQ’s hangar waiting for the Sagittarians to show up. Wearing her Quake suit, Daisy was shuffling her feet nervously, standing between Mack and Daniel. She couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. There was just something unsettling about the way the Sagittarians changed their mind so fast. She doesn’t know much about them but what she does know is that they are a monarchy led by a princess called Daydra who may or may not have some dispute with her uncle who is the head of their military. The last thing Daisy wanted was to get mixed up in family affairs and instead of a new ally make a new enemy. Daniel, being as observant as ever, took her hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She offered him a grateful smile in return.

Suddenly they were startled by a bright blue light in front of them. They shut their eyes to block the light and when they opened them again two tall grey-skinned aliens stood before them. One was a male and the other was a female, both looking like warriors. The woman had long black hair woven into a braid and her dark grey eyes were studying the humans in front of her cautiously yet with a drop of curiosity. Slightly taller than her, the man had an impressive white mustache and was bald with-

“Is that…a fin on his head?” Kora whispered in Daisy’s ear from behind.

“I…think so?” Daisy whispered back.

“Greetings Terrans. My name is Brodin,” the guy with the fin spoke. “I am a Captain of the Royal Guard and I and my second-in-command, Adlynn, were tasked to bring you to our planet Berhert for the scheduled meeting with Princess Daydra, our fearless leader.”

The group of humans shared a look between each other before Mack spoke up.

“I am Alphonso MacKenzie, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.. Welcome to Earth. I believe we spoke to each other when you contacted us this morning.”

“That is correct. I see you assembled the small team you wanted to send as emissaries since you will not be attending personally,” Brodin commented, pointing his hand towards Daisy, Daniel and Kora.

“Yes. They are some of our best agents,” Mack looked at the trio standing by his side with a proud smile. “Leaders of the special team tasked with space exploration and acquiring new allies…and assessing the threats from outer space.”

“That has been a wise decision on your part. There are many threats out there,” Adlynn spoke for the first time.

“Yes. We had enough bad luck to cross paths with some of them,” Mack remarked with a sigh. “So, anyway, this is Agent Daisy Johnson,” he put his big hand on Daisy’s shoulder. “She is in command of Zephyr-3 and its space exploring team.”

Daisy smiled at the two aliens and gave them a nod.

“Next to her,” Mack continued, “is Agent Daniel Sousa. He is her second-in-command or a first officer on Zephyr-3.”

“Nice to meet you.” Daniel, as polite as ever, offered them a hand to shake but Daisy could hear an edge to his voice, which was missing its usual warm friendliness.

“Likewise,” Brodin replied with a neutral voice and shook Daniel’s hand as did Adlynn.

Daisy sighed in relief because she could still vividly remember the time when Daniel offered a handshake on a planet where it was considered inappropriate due to rules of no physical contact in public. She had to quake a guard off of him and then explain in length that they didn’t know it was forbidden since on Earth it’s a gesture of friendship. They barely evaded the prison and were immediately exiled from the planet, never to return back. It was impossible to learn the etiquette rules of all the planets before they visited them.

“And finally, this is Agent Kora Johnson. She is one of our best pilots and a valued member of this team,” Mack pointed to Kora who in the meantime moved to stand on Daniel’s other side.

“We came to your planet like ten days ago and you refused to let us land,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Kora!” Daisy hissed warningly while Daniel tensed beside her and Mack ran his hand down his face with a sigh.

“What? It’s the truth. We came as emissaries too and they refused to talk to us. Now they are suddenly willing to,” Kora voiced her concerns.

“We are deeply sorry for that. There was…a misunderstanding on our end that had nothing to do with you,” Adlynn explained with a sad smile.

That seemed to calm Kora down a little but it sparked some suspicions in Daisy’s head. But this was nor time or place to be voicing them.

“It’s okay,” Mack assured them.

“If these are your most trusted agents who can speak on your behalf at the meeting with Princess Daydra, it is my duty now to bring them to our planet safely,” Brodin announced.

“Yes, they have all my trust,” Mack nodded and put his hand encouragingly on Daisy’s shoulder. “Agents, good luck,” Mack added, looking from Daisy to Daniel and Kora who both nodded at him.

“Thank you, Director.” Daisy squeezed his arm in response.

“Thank you, sir,” Daniel said at the same time.

“Let’s go then,” Brodin suggested and held a spherical device, slightly smaller than a soccer ball, in front of him. “Please stand in a circle as close to the device as possible.”

“If I may ask,” Mack spoke up again, “what is that thing?”

“It’s an interstellar and interdimensional teleportation device,” Brodin explained. “It allows us to travel anywhere in the universe or even between the universes. Although I am not sure how much you Terrans know about the Multiverse.”

“It’s the same as multiple timelines, right?” Daisy asked, unsure.

“Yes, but it’s more than just that,” Brodin muttered, looking down at the device he was holding.

“Then, yes…uh, we know something about it,” Daisy looked at Daniel and Kora with an amused grin on her face.

“I am pleasantly surprised. Many races out there have never heard of it,” Adlynn commented, excitement visible in her eyes. “You are much more advanced than we thought.”

“Not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult,” Daniel whispered into Daisy’s ear and she tried hard not to smile.

“Yeah,” Mack sighed, scratching the back of his neck nervously, “you could say we discovered a lot in the past ten years or so.”

“Maybe your friends will share some of those discoveries with us. I would like to hear all about them. They are usually accompanied by interesting stories,” Adlynn couldn’t hide her excitement anymore.

“Sure,” Daisy said, “but you know, these things go both ways. We share if you do too.”

“This will be a very interesting meeting, I can tell,” Adlynn smiled while Brodin shook his head with a sigh.

“That’s why we should be going, Adlynn,” he noted dryly and held the device in the middle of their small circle.

“Of course, Captain,” Adlynn tried to compose herself and warned the trio of humans: “Get ready.”

Daisy grasped both Daniel’s and Kora’s hands in each of hers. The last thing she wanted was to lose one of them in the vacuum of space or whatever. She didn’t know how that device worked.

Suddenly they were all enveloped by the blue light emitting from the device in the middle. Somehow, in some way, it reminded her of Gordon’s powers.

Next Chapter →

I wrote this and the next chapter as one big chapter but decided to split them up...it was too long and I know some people prefer shorter chapters. This is the calm before the storm.

Both planets mentioned here exist in the MCU (Guardians of the Galaxy vol.2) but the Sagittarians were not mentioned so I took them out of the comics (I've never read any of them). Princess Daydra and her uncle exist in the comics the rest is made up.

So that's it then. Thanks for reading. Stay safe and see you all next week!

[tinfoiltemplar]

"Dance with me."

Finnegan says it like it's a command, but it's a question. Victor can say no as the radio plays in the hotel suite's kitchenette and Finnegan brews terrible coffee so they an return to the world outside their love affair. There's a terrible, frightening intimacy about it, one neither of them is ready for, but Victor doesn't know how to deny Finnegan anything, not yet. He takes his hand and they fumble to find a rhythm, to know who is leading, to match the beat of the music. It's the closest Finnegan has held Victor when they aren't fucking and, God, is it glorious.

---

"Dance with me."

Finnegan is drunk. They both are. Standing on the balcony for a cigarette break, they've been rambling at each other about dogs and horses and how badly then need to schedule a tennis match to thinly disguise a desire to see each other in the light of day. Finnegan offers a hand and a grin and Victor thinks he's mad. This is what playing with fire is like. No. This is what dancing with the Devil is like. He's supposed to be beautiful and perfect and tempting and everything you've ever wanted and here is Finnegan looking like a dream and offering Victor an apple he can't help but take a bite of. He protests someone will see, uselessly.

"Let them stare," Finnegan says. He is very clearly drunk. "I want to dance at least one bloody gala with you. Either dance with me or go inside to your wife."

Victor seizes his hand and holds him close. They shuffle slowly on the balcony, so close that he can taste the champagne and cigarettes on Finnegan's breath; no doubt he's drinking in the gin on Victor's. For a while they're discreet, but then they get silly, careening across the balcony and spinning until the city around them blurs and only the other's face is in focus.

---

"Dance with me."

They've been fighting. It's not been pretty. The last thing Victor wants is to dance with his lover in this terrible and unfamiliar apartment. His marriage is ending, his world is falling apart and Finnegan has the audacity to say "Dance with me" to him like an apology.

It is an apology.

One day, Finnegan will learn to say he's sorry and he will say it a thousand times. Today, he puts on a playlist that he says he made of songs that remind him of Victor. Victor expects sappy, slow music.

It's upbeat.

Finnegan spins him around and loosens his hips and by the time the next song ends, they're laughing. They aren't fighting any more.

---

"Dance with me."

The club is dark - a good foray into public for a couple as new and used to shadows as they are. They're drinking again- Well. Actually. Victor is drinking. Finnegan is remarkably clear eyed with his boyfriend on his lap in a corner booth. Victor protests he does't know how do dance in a nightclub.

"I'll teach you," Finnegan whispers. "It's not so different from this."

He's right. They grind on the dance floor and touch each other until Victor's moans can be heard ever-so-slightly over the music.

"You're a natural, darling," Finnegan says, rubbing against Victor and grabbing his ass. "Do you want to continue this dance in the back of the car or at my place?"

There is no hesitation as they rush from the bar.

---

"Dance with me."

They are planning their wedding and they want that first dance to be perfect. They've danced together in public for the first time and maybe they're both desperate to recapture that high. But the first dance is overly choreographed and exhausting and even Victor, who lives for cardio workouts, is sick of practicing some elaborate showstopper for their wedding. Won't it be enough to hold his husband close in front of their friends and family?

He grouses a little about practicing but makes his way to Finnegan's arms. Finnegan smiles and tilts his head.

"You lead," he says. "If you were choreographing our first dance as husbands, what would you do?"

Victor pulls Finnegan close - much closer than is proper - and he tucks him against his chest, holds him close and safe. They do not galivant around the dance floor. They sway back and forth for three solid minutes, whispering to each other. It takes Victor a moment to realize that Finnegan is crying against his shoulder, softly in that fragile way which says "Do not ask". Victor just holds him tighter.

A few weeks later, they dance together as husbands for the first time and they settle on a waltz - simple, classic, elegant - where they can be close together and pay no mind to the gathered guests.

---

"Dance with me."

The hospital room is no place to dance. Victor is hooked up to machines and he stares at Finnegan, dumbfounded. Now? Here? That?

"Take my hand with yours and use the other to wheel the IV coat rack around," Finnegan says, completely in earnest. "I'll go easy on you."

"You're ridiculous," says Victor, complying.

"I miss you," Finnegan says. "I miss holding you. Let me."

And so Victor lets him. He lets Finnegan sway him gently and hold him close and he thinks they're rather lucky the nurses don't walk in on this nonsense. He thinks, also, that if he has to have a last memory of his husband, he'd rather it be this than something else.

---

"Dance with me."

Jane and Frankenstein are dancing. It's a weird dinner party; Finnegan is on thin ice with everyone but the hosts and Victor. He won't say why and Victor doesn't want to know. What he does know is that his husband craves the reassurance of being held, so he climbs to his feet and decides he's leading. Eventually he asks why Frankenstein's friends hate him and eventually he gets an answer he does not like. But for one perfect moment, they are dancing and happy and that's something.

---

"Dance with me."

They are waiting for their daughter to come home from a school dance - her first. Victor has been watching the clock and Finnegan has been watching Victor. He doesn't take "no" for an answer as he sweeps Victor out of his chair in the dining room and into the kitchen where there's more space.

"If Allie can have fun dancing with a cute boy tonight," Finnegan says, "I see no reason I can't do the same."

---

"Dance with me."

How many galas and fundraisers and mixers have they been to? Victor's lost count, but it doesn't matter. His heart still thrills when Finnegan asks him in the middle of a crowded dance floor to be his partner. Even though they know each other's movements now - a little too well, some might say - the excitement hasn't died. Sometimes he secretly hopes Shannon can see how blissfully happy they are, gavotting around the ballroom. Mostly, he doesn't care who sees. He just wants to dance with his husband where everyone can see and the only eyes that matter are the ones gazing into his.

God, is it glorious.

.

[likeshipsonthesea]

post script poetry

okay i’m going to preface this with a lot of rambling so buckle up my dudes

i started this i don’t know how long ago when i saw a post about how fun it would be if dex ended up being the one to wax poetic about nursey and i saw it and thought the only way that would happen would be by accident, like if he was complaining and started getting mushy

so i wrote this. like, half of this. and then tonight i found it and i liked it and finished it. so here you go. and yes, i did this instead of fulfilling the hozier prompts. sorry not sorry?

Hey Lardo,

I attached my schedule for the week of the 15th. Depending on how long you need me, I can also work this week. I know the sculpture doesn’t have to be done until the end of the month, but I also know how you get close to a deadline. Let me know if any of the free times work for you-- if not, we’ll figure something out.

Dex

P.S. I was going to text this, but since I’m typing I might as well tell you that there’s a horrifying new regular at the café. Every time he comes in he orders something so convoluted and complicated that he has to be fucking with me, and the drinks are so damn sweet he must need to see a dentist every weekend. He walks in with this stupid fucking smirk on his face too, like he derives joy from ruining a perfectly nice--okay well not nice but I’m perfectly civil to customers at least-- barista’s day.

He’s come in consistently for three weeks now. Pray for me.

P.P.S. Did I mention that he’s taken to sitting at a table with nothing but his stupid sweet drinks and a journal for hours on end? Sometimes he’ll buy a muffin and try to talk to me, like I’m not fucking working. Asshole.

*~*~*

Hey Lardo,

5 on Wednesday works for me. Should I bring anything aside from the regular tools?

Dex

P.S. It doesn’t matter if he’s attractive but since you asked, yes, but only in the way that statues are attractive. They’re carved and perfected and gorgeous, yeah, but when you look at them you’re admiring it, idolizing it-- your own inferiority is entangled in the attraction.

P.P.S. And no, I’m not telling you his name.

*~*~*

Hey Lardo,

Sorry to hear about the issues with the sculpture. The earliest I can come for emergency repairs would be tomorrow after work. Hope it holds together until then.

Sorry,

Dex

P.S. This seems to be a theme in our emails, but I’m mentioning this only because it literally just happened. The horrible regular was just here in a sweater and jeans. A sweater and jeans. It’s fucking snowing. Below freezing, high teens, stupid kind of cold, and the guy left his jacket home for what? To show the world how pretty he looks in that sweater? The asshole probably looked in the mirror and thought that people noticing how the green in the sweater enhanced the fucking tree top, sea-glass shiny green of his own eyes was more important than not getting frost bite. And he looked so fucking proud of himself too, smiling all big and wide and stupid like his lips weren’t chattering! And then he stayed in the shop forever, obviously, because he can’t go out in the cold wearing nothing and he just sat there and wrote in his stupid journal and looked over at me with his fucking budding-leaves-at-the-beginning-of-spring eyes like he knew how infuriating he was. That kind of stupidity just pisses me off.

*~*~*

Hey Lardo,

Was going through my messages and saw the last thread. How are the repairs holding up?

Dex

P.S. Shut up.

*~*~*

Lardo,

Glad the emergency repairs are holding. The piece looks great so far, I can’t wait to see the finished product at the end of term.

Dex

P.S. I’m not going to fuck an asshole just because he���s pretty.

P.P.S. Don’t bring up the LAX bro.

*~*~*

Hey Lardo,

My phone crapped out in the middle of a shift so I’ll be communicating via email for the next few days. I’ve got a bunch of leftover muffins from work. Want me to drop by the studio on the way home?

Dex

*~*~*

Lardo,

I’ll grab all the banana nut and any double chocolates that look good. See you soon.

Dex

P.S. Just because we’re on email doesn’t mean you have to ask about my horrible regular. But yes, to answer your question, he is still a regular and maybe a little less horrible, thank God.

*~*~*

Lardo,

Okay, I’ll get some blueberry ones for Shitty too.

Dex

P.S. Well, he’s less horrible because his orders-- while still stupidly complicated and overly fucking sweet-- have narrowed down to one of two options, so I know what they are now. When he lists off all of the stupid steps, I can just ignore him and stare at nothing, or how he gestures with his hands when he speaks and barely avoids knocking over the tip jar. I guess it’s nice that he talks with his hands, though, because sometimes when he’s sitting at a table and writing his hands start shaking and I much prefer the gesturing to that.

Also he seems to have decided to wear a coat for the foreseeable future, and even if it’s this deep green pea coat that probably cost more than what I make in a month, it looks good on him-- aesthetics and functionality, at least he’s compromising. It’s like cut or whatever, so you can still see the line of his waist, tight to his chest and everything. And he has a matching beanie that doesn’t seem that warm, but he tugs it down just over the tips of his ears and a few of his curls above his forehead poke out of it, all soft looking and stuff. He still needs gloves though.

But, I guess, overall he’s less horrible.

*~*~*

Lardo,

The sculpture looks great! And with the deadline still a week away you have a bunch of time to do all your last little nit-picky things.

Dex

P.S. Okay reading over that last post-script I do sound a little mushy, but in my defense I was coming off a double shift and I’d had a big deadline for CS the night before and I definitely wasn’t all there. This cannot be held against me.

*~*~*

Lardo,

Just because you put it in the P.S. doesn’t make it okay. I am not In Love with anyone, especially not the guy who writes poetry on the twenties he leaves in the tip jar.

Dex

*~*~*

Lardo,

Why does that matter?

Dex

*~*~*

FINE some of it was other people’s stuff-- I googled it and some were Emily Dickinson I think? Some of the lines didn’t return anything, so I guess they were original? Anyway it doesn’t matter-- he’s defacing money.

Dex

*~*~*

Your idea of romantic is weird.

*~*~*

Hey Lardo,

I can’t get my phone fixed until Sunday, but I wanted to double check that your show is on Saturday at 7:00PM?

Thanks,

Dex

*~*~*

Lardo,

Thanks for clarifying.

Dex

P.S. Actually yeah, I guess there was an update, or whatever.

So he came in with a book last night, late. Not a lot of people come by the cafe at night, obviously, so it was just me and him, and he was there for a while but then we were closing. I went over to tell him we were closing in a few minutes and he asked if I’d sit with him for a few minutes and, well, he’s a nice tipper, so whatever. I did.

And then-- I shit you not-- he started reading me poetry. Actually. Just started reading poetry to me out of nowhere. He’d gesture with his notebook as he did it, his eyes were all lit up like treetops at sunrise or something and his voice just filled up the whole shop, like it was bouncing off the walls and going through me and shit, like he was trying to make me listen in my soul or something. And, like, I’m shit at poetry and I didn’t really get what it was supposed to be, but you know when you hear a song and even without really hearing the lyrics it makes you feel some kind of way? That’s what it did.

Then he stopped reading and asked me what I thought and I couldn’t just say that it made me feel things so I said that the guy in the poem sounded kind of obsessed, and then the guy-- the regular-- laughed, like a full bodied laugh, his eyes crinkled and his shoulders shook and he tucked the notebook against his chest, against his heart, and laughed in public, in front of a stranger, like it wasn’t weird. And you know when something good happens? Something unexpectedly good? Your favorite song comes on the radio or you find a random twenty in your pocket or you catch the sunset on your walk home and its pretty and warm and just makes you smile and think, huh, I’m glad I get to be here for that.

That’s what his laugh felt like. I know it’s fucking sappy but it’s the only way I can come up with to describe it.

Anyway. See you Saturday.

*~*~*

Lardo,

Yeah.

I’m fucked.

Dex

*~*~*

Hey, fuck, I’m so sorry about last night. My phone is still fucked up otherwise I’d call you but your friend-- the one in your painting, Nursey-- he’s my horrible regular.

Small campus, huh?

He was a little drunk-- he kept drinking the champagne for some reason, I think it was to stop his hands shaking, I don’t know-- but I didn’t want to just send him off alone so I helped him back to his dorm and as I was taking off his shoes he kept reciting poetry or whatever and he was drunk, yeah, but he said it so nicely and he kept looking at me with his ridiculous eyes and then he touched my cheek-- like actually fucking caressed my cheek-- and I kissed him.

And I know he was drunk, I tasted the champagne when I kissed him, and I felt horrible and I ran out of his dorm and-- then I fell asleep and woke up and wrote this email.

So, I probably fucked up beyond repair and if you need me I will be kicking myself for the next fifty years. Thanks, goodbye.

Dex

P.S. I forgot to say-- the show looked great. The sculpture, the art, everything. You’re amazing, dude.

*~*~*

Thanks for his number, but I can’t just call the guy out of the blue and say, “Hey, sorry for kissing you when you were all drunk, won’t happen again, please keep tipping me?”

Also, I still don’t have a working phone.

*~*~*

That’ss the problem with falling in love with a stranger, youknow? Like, I never mett the guy really, I just made his stupid sweet coffee drinks and listened to his poetry that one time and stared too much when he talked with his hands and at his stupid eyebrows-- how do eyebrows look soft?? It makes no sense

And he’s beautiful, you know, like can’t stare too long or you’ll go blind, and I felt like he was a good person youknow, an asshole but good, the kind you want. And I could feel it he would probably argue with me over everything but I think I could likee that, like arguing, at least with him, because I know it wouldn’t be out of anger or whatever, he would be coming from a place of understanding or shared values or whatever

and i fucking KNOW that I can’t know all this frm looking at him, but he had his stupidd fucking g journal that he scrippled in all the time and his hadsn were covered in ink with notes to himself and I want to be the person who egts to listen to his poetry at 2 in the morning and watch him ramble about things he loves and tell him how fucking good his writing is because it IS lardo it’s so good, he’s so good, i never spent any of those twenties witb his writing on it i hung them in my dorm isnt’ that fucking stupid god i love him, i love him and I don’t even know him

Love scuks.

P..S yeah, if you couldnt tell, i’m a little drunk. oops

*~*~*

Dear Lardo,

It’s very rude to forward drunken, rambling emails about someone to that someone without the consent of the drunken rambler.

Dex

P.S. Thank you.

[evilmortys]

Have you ever talked about/drawn/ have head among about c-136’s rick? His relationship w/ his family and morty? Is her better than other ricks or worse? Etc!

i’ve  never  talked  about  rick  c-136  much  extensively  come  to  think  of  it!  so  i  hope  you  don’t  mind  if  i  use  this  ask  as  an  opportunity  to  ramble  about  him  and  their  dynamic  and  their  dimension  in  general  a  little.  it’s  quite  divergent  from  what’s  typical  for  a  rick  and  morty  dynamic  in  places,  i  think.

first  off  i  wanna  lead  with:  morty  c-136  is  sixteen!  so  his  summer  is  of  course  older  too,  and  is  now  living  away  from  home  and  attending  college.  he  misses  her  a  lot,  but  they  still  call  a  few  times  a  week  and  bitch  about  their  parents  and  what’s  going  on  in  their  lives  and  bully  each  other  a  lot.  she  comes  home  sometimes,  usually  for  holidays  such  as  thanksgiving  or  whatever.  they’re  overly  sappy  for  a  minute  max  upon  reuniting,  then  she’s  kicking  him  in  the  balls  and  he’s  calling  her  a  dumb  bitch.

his  mom  and  dad  are  divorced,  and  have  been  since  he  was  ten,  so  jerry  is  not  really  in  the  picture.  rick  is  very  relieved  about  this  and  hates  jerry  about  as  much  as  is  typical  for  bastard  grandpas.  morty  was  sad  about  their  messy  break  up,  but  very  quickly  came  to  understand  it  was  for  the  best.  there’s  a  security  system  rick  set  up  to  kick  jerry  to  the  curb  if  he  ever  comes  around,  much  to  morty’s  aggravation,  but  it’s  not  put  to  much  use  anyway.  (usually  he  walks  over  to  his  dad’s  sad  studio  apartment  of  his  own  volition  for  custody  weekend  instead  of  being  picked  up,  because  his  dad  sleeps  until  late  noon,  so.  not  exactly  a  dependable  ride.  if  he  goes  himself  he  can  shake  jerry  awake  at  a  reasonable  hour  and ...  try  to  shake  some  sense  into  him  too.  so  he  doesn’t  come  to  the  house  much.)

c-136′s rick has a complex relationship with his beth.  she’s  still  very  much  wrapped  up  in  his  opinion  of  her  and  works  to  please,  impress  and  ultimately  attain  his  attention  whenever  she  can.  an  easy  way  to  do  this  is  back  rick  up  when  morty  backtalks  him.  if  morty  angrily  says  “shut  the  fuck  up,  rick”  within  earshot  of  his  mother,  she’s  very  quick  to  fly  to  her  father’s  defence  as  apposed  to  her  son’s-  “morty,  don’t  speak  to  my  dad  like  that!”  rick  plays  off  this,  recognizing  an  opportunity  to  make  beth  feel  like  it’s  them  versus  morty,  and  says  “thank  you,  sweetie.”  the  two  then  delve  into  conversation  about  how  morty  is  “out  of  hand”  as  if  he’s  not  even  there,  which  understandably  infuriates  him  further.  

it  hurts  him  a  lot  that  his  mom  is  so  desperate  to  feel  like  her  and  her  dad  get  along,  and  for  him  to  acknowledge  her  existence,  that  she’ll  invalidate  his  feelings  and  bitch  about  his  behavior  with  rick  to  get  it.  he  very  much  feels  like  his  mom  values  having  a  positive  relationship  with  her  dad  over  him  as  a  result.  morty  continues  to  love  and  care  about  her  even  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  it  feels  largely  nonreciprocal  at  the  best  of  times,  but  can  come  across  quite  cold,  dismissive  and  clearly  subconsciously  angry  with  beth  when  talking  about  her  at  times  as  a  result.  don’t  get  me  wrong,  they  go  see  the  occasional  movie  together  and  morty  helps  her  out  preparing  dinner  very  often.  he  cares  deeply  about  his  mom  and  he  loves  her,  of  course  he  does,  but  he's  also  felt  incredibly  estranged  from  her  for  most  of  his  life.  if  nothing  else,  they  can  always  at  least  bond  over  an  eyeroll  at  one  of  his  dad's  latest  fuck  ups  or  stupid  statuses  on  facebook.  there’s  some  stuff  about  his  childhood  i  could  tack  in  here  that’s  relevant,  but  i’m  very  conscious  of  how  long  this  is  and  i  haven’t  even  talked  about  rick  and  morty’s  dynamic  yet ...  adjaskjdfaksf  sorry!

her  alcoholism  worries  morty  whereas  rick  seems  a  little  indifferent  to  it,  or  considers  it  not  a  big  deal.  likely  because  he  knows  it  invites  accusations  of  hypocrisy  if  he  calls  out  her  self  destruction  via  these  vices.  

in  the  past,  morty’s  tried  talking  with  her,  watering  down  and  pouring  out  her  alcohol  stashes,  and  even  pleaded  for  rick  try  and  make  her  see  reason-  to  no  avail.  (his  grandpa  ended  up  cracking  a  joke  about  what  a  fucking  buzzkill  morty  is,  they  laughed  it  off  together,  and  they  both  went  out  for,  you  guessed  it,  a  fucking  drink,  or  more  likely  ten  of  them,  directly  after  the  fact.)

right  now,  beth  c-136  has  been  seeing  a  bartender  for  eleven  months.  rick  seems  to  idly  approve  of  him-  at  the  very  least,  doesn’t  hate  him  like  he  did  jerry,  which  delights  beth.  her  father  deeming  anything  in  her  life  a  good  choice  means  everything  to  her  because  she  fights  so  hard  to  impress  him  while  also  trying  not  to  look  overtly  clingy  and  needy,  because  that  seems  to  repel  him.  also,  he’s  her  genius  father  who  doesn’t  like  anyone,  so  how  the  hell  can  his  judgement  be  wrong,  right?  him  approving  of  this  guy  has  locked  him  into  her  life  for  the  forseeable  future.  again,  this  pisses  morty  off,  because  this  bartender  guy  encourages  his  mom’s  worst  vice  of  daydrinking  with  his  job  and  lifestyle.  he  makes  her  happy,  but  he’s  the  fucking  worst,  and  it  makes  morty  want  to  tear  his  hair  out.  him  and  summer  frequently  snipe  about  the  guy  in  private.  sharing  distaste  for  their  parents’  prospective  partners  is  very  valid  bonding  they  think.

c-136  rick  and  morty's  relationship  is  emotionally  flexible  at  the  best  of  times.  some  days,  so  very  rarely,  they  get  along  just  great.

to  name  one  wholesome  headcanon  before  we  Get  Into  It.  occasionally,  rick  will  pretend  to  know  absolutely  jack  shit  about  one  of  the  plants  in  morty’s  greenhouse  just  to  let  him  go  off  about  it  and  suddenly  seem  excitably  sure  of  himself  for  about  twenty  minutes  of  nonstop  infodumping.  95%  of  the  time  he  knows  absolutely  everything  about  the  plant  he’s  asking  about,  actually,  and  on  some  level  morty  is  absolutely  aware  of  it.  the  smartest  man  in  the  universe  apparently  doesn’t  know  what  a  flaxtius  olcum  is?  right.  but ...  he  still  appreciates  the  gesture  a  lot,  and  it  cheers  him  up  after  a  shitshow  adventure.

it's  not  too  clear  what  allows  these  occasions  of  treating  one  another  with  basic  respect  and  almost  fondness  to  arise-  maybe  his  grandfather's  in  an  uncommonly  gracious  mood,  maybe  they're  playing  minecraft  or  bashing  animal  crossing  together,  maybe  they're  snickering  and  exchanging  incredulous  glances  during  some  cartoonishly  evil  alien's  monologue  of  a  plan  as  it's  dictated  to  them  in  painstaking  detail …  regardless,  those  come  around  less  and  less  often,  these  days.

rick  secretly  considers  morty  to  be  very  capable  and  alarmingly  more  competent  as  of  late,  and  he's  not  sure  whether  to  feel  almost  proud  or  work  to  scramble  to  unravel  all  this progress  lest  morty  start  pulling  away  from  him  and  revelling  in  his  own  independence.  

they're  a  kickass duo  when  adventuring, very  in  sync.  morty's  less  of  a  whiny  burden  or  wide-eyed,  unremarkable  sidekick,  and  more  of  a  borderline  asset  at  this  point.  which  again,  makes  rick  feel  very  conflicted  over  how  that  skews  their  dynamic  in  a  way  that's  less  favorable  for  him,  because  morty  doesn't  need  to  lean  on  him  as  heavily  or  stick  as  close  anymore.  but  at  the  same  time,  there’s  less  inherent  risk  of  him  dying  while  they  adventure,  because  he  handles  himself  so  well.  they  can  split  up  as  needed  to  get  shit  done  faster.  morty  frequently  solo  adventures,  or  as  he  calls  it,  “runs  rick’s  goddamn  errands,  actually.”  he’s  outgrown  the  concept  of  getting  to  choose  an  adventure  and  instead  claims  the  portal  gun  every  twelve  adventures  they  have  together,  and  goes  off  for  one  of  his  own.

morty  speaks  his  mind  very  bluntly  with  rick  and  isn't  really  afraid  to  tell  him  to  get  fucked  when  he's  being  an  unreasonable  dick.  he  resents  rick  immensely  for  putting  him  down  and  pushing  him  around  all  the  time.

morty's  more  assertive,  yet  still  very  much  resigned  to  their  irrefutably  imbalanced  companionship ;  there  are  countless  factors  as  to  why.  but  primarily,  it  tends  to  boil  down  to  feeling  like  he  owes  a  lot  to  rick.  were  it  not  for  his  presence  in  his  life,  morty  knows  deep  down  that  he  wouldn't  be  half  as  interesting  or  even  marginally  as  intelligent  as  he's  capable  of  being  now.  he’d  still  be  stupid,  and  mediocre,  and  uninteresting.  unremarkable.  unworthy  of  anyone’s  attention  or  time  because  of  how  dull  he  is.

he's  at  a  point  where  (to  an  extent)  he  feels  distant  from  his  life  on  earth  at  the  best  of  times,  because  space  and  the  infinite  multiverse  has  encompassed  his  daily  life  for  so  long  and  on  some  level,  he  handles  himself  far  better  fighting  for  his  life  on  the  edge  of  the  universe  than  trapped  in  a  school  full  of  sweaty  teenagers  and  material  he  either  blitzes  through  or  can  barely  grasp.  plus,  rick  was  the  closest  thing  he  ever  had  to  a  friend  while  he  was  growing  up.  morty  cares  about  rick,  even  if  the  older  constantly  cites  reasons  as  to  why  attachment  is  moronic  and  sentiment  is  stupid,  and  he's  aware  that  rick  has  come  to  care  for  him  too-  even  if  all  his  pointed  jabs  about  not  giving  a  shit  and  aloof  front  makes  it  hard  to  believe  that  all  the  time.

the  issue  is,  once  morty  seems  to  waver  in  feeling  that  he  has  to  constantly  acquiesce  to  rick  and  falters  in  tolerating  rick  as  an  result  of  this  obligated  feeling  of  familial  love,  no  matter  how  slightly,  rick  then  begins  to  exert  control  over  their  relationship  by  other  means,  such  as  emotionally  manipulating,  gaslighting  and  outright  blackmailing  him  to  keep  him  in  line  with  what  he  wants  out  of  their  dynamic:  rick  and  morty,  a  hundred  years,  the  only  two  people  in  the  infinite  multiverse  that  truly  matter-  theretofore,  they  should  both  solely  consider  one  another  as  important,  and  worthwhile.  he's  willing  to  tarnish  any  other  connections  morty  might  form  beyond  their  duo  for  fear  of  losing  him.

he  grows  out  of  this  irrational  attachment  a  little  more  each  time  his  grandfather  lets  him  down,  disillusions  him  ever  further,  hurts  him  or  traumatizes  him  or  actively  fucking  experiments  on  him-  slowly  but  surely.  he'll  snap,  in  some  sense,  sometime.  when  exactly  can't  be  known.  what  precise  actions  he  might  take  to  pry  himself  free  of  their  codependent  dynamic  is  unclear.  but  the  way  things  are  headed,  the  two  of  them  splintering  apart  is  inevitable,  and  it's  unlikely  to  be  an  amicable  thing  at  all.  rick  often  actively  renounces  and  appears  repulsed  by  the  very  concept  of  familial  love  and  basic  attachment,  constantly  rants  and  raves  in  his  drunken  stupors  about  how  replaceable  everyone  in  his  life  is,  and  it's  hard  for  morty  to  bite  his  tongue  when  he's  behaving  like  that.

he  just  hates  that  he  feels  badly  about  himself  and  second  guesses  himself  around  rick.  strangely  enough,  when  he’s  having  to  push  through  crazy  shit  alone,  he  does  fine.  great,  even.  sure,  he’s  freaking  out,  making  everything  up  as  he  goes  along,  and  secretly  wishing  rick  was  around  to  guide  him  out  of  the  chaos  because  he  knows  in  his  heart  rick  would  probably  do  it  smarter.  but  once  he’s  with  rick,  he  feels  incapable  and  stupid  beside  him.  like,  being  apart  from  him  makes  him  feel  so  much  lighter,  allows  him  to  lean  on  the  intelligence  he  very  much  does  possess,  without  being  berated,  second  guessing  it,  and  reminded  it’ll  never  match  up  to  rick’s,  so  there’s  really  no  point  in  even  trying.

[365days365movies]

February 5, 2021: The Notebook (2004)(Part 1)

...Do I have to?

...The year was 2004. I was 13, my Mom was still into romance movies, and we had a Hollywood Video nearby. God, I miss Hollywood Video, you have NO idea. Anyway, I obviously didn’t watch this movie (or I wouldn’t be watching it now), but I do remember kissing in the rain...or was that just the DVD cover? Other than that, I got nothin’. Still, I like both Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling in other works, so I guess we’ll see.

I also can’t start this without acknowledging the fact that this is based upon a Nicholas Sparks book, and...I’m not into that. Sparks sucks, man. Sappy, overemotional, and constantly predictable folderol.

OK, Nicholas Sparks, let’s get this over with. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

We start with scenic shots of a boat rowing through a marsh, being visited by a flock of snow geese. As they fly off, an elderly woman (Gena Rowlands) looks out of a window over it. The woman is in an old-folks home, and is visited by Duke (James Garner), another resident. He’s here to read from a book, despite it not being a “good day,” according to the woman’s attendant.

The story in the book begins on June 6, 1940, at a carnival in South Carolina. There, Noah Calhoun (Ryan Gosling) sees Allie Hamilton (Rachel McAdams), and it’s infatuation at first sight. He’s a lumber yard worker, and she’s a rich heiress. He’s also EXTREMELY forward, and she’s EXTREMELY not interested. He approaches her for a dance (at a...carnival), and she says no, having literally never seen this guy before. He responds to this rejection by...butting into her date with another dude of a Ferris Wheel? 

And when she once again rejects his offer for a date...he, uh...he threatens to kill himself off of the Ferris Wheel?

Um. Yeah, no. That’s a new level of manipulation. She pants him on the Ferris Wheel and humiliates him, but JESUS CHRIST, this dude is a lot. That’s compounded the next day, when he continues to pursue her, and she continues to be EXTREMELY not interested! DUDE. GET A GODDAMN CLUE HERE, she is NOT INTERESTED IN YOUR SHIT.

Is Noah the first simp? Because he’s really starting to seem like it. Anyway, Noah and his friend Fin (Kevin Connolly) basically set her up to go on a double date with Noah, and he continues to be overly forward. Maybe this is supposed to be romantic, but it definitely doesn’t feel like it to me.

We find out that Allie is a quite well-educated young woman, whose schedule is basically completely controlled by her parents, who want her to go to college as well. Noah questions why her life is so restrictive, nothing that she should be free, which she insists she is. He then lies down in the middle of the road, watching the street...lights…

Holy shit, he’s a manic pixie dream boy. HOLY SHIT HE’S A MANIC PIXIE DREAM SIMP. He does all these quirky things, and breaks the girl in the restrictive lifestyle out of said lifestyle. Even if his dumbass actions nearly get him and Allie killed. See, she lies down in the street with him, and they nearly get run over by a car. And this second near-death experience is apparently SO romantic, that Allie’s won over, and they...just dance in the middle of the street. Because Ryan Gosling has no idea where to dance, apparently.

Billie Holiday sings “I’ll Be Seeing You” in the background (which, yes, I love), and we cut back to Duke reading to the elderly woman, who correctly guesses that they fell in love. And yeah, they go head-over-heels, apparently. Which is symbolized by, just, the most graphic of PDAs over, lord. 

Allie meets Noah’s father, Frank (Sam Shepard), a seemingly nice man and poetry fan (he’s a Tennyson man apparently). He asks her if she wants breakfast-for-dinner, and he’s my favorite character so far.

However, as if to set up the conflict to come, we’re reminded that this is a summer romance, and that they come from two different classes and worlds. Because of course they do, but whatever, moving on. That is when the following scene takes place.

...Look, I’m a bird guy by trade, and even I think that was weird.

We get more glimpses of their romance, including them dancing at a gathering with...a bunch of black peopNOPE. HOLD YOUR TONGUE, 365, WAIT FOR THE REVIEW TO TALK ABOUT THAT SHIT. At the end of this montage, we meet Allie’s father, the uppity and rich John Hamilton (David Thornton), and his GLORIOUS mustache (mustache). 

He invites Noah to Sunday brunch, which is being attended by...black servaHOOOOOOLD. NOT NOW 365 NOT NOW. We also meet Allie’s controlling mother, Anne Hamilton (Joan Allen). When Noah tells them how much money he makes, they immediately look down on him and his poor, poor ways. Anne reveals that Allie is headed to Sarah Lawrence, an all-girl’s school in New York. Which is, uh...NOT close.

Anne very much disapproves of her relationship with Noah, seeing him as a low-born of little consequence. Not that it matters, because the two head to a DEFINITELY HAUNTED house in the woods one night, which overlooks the marshlands. The bats from the Scooby-Doo intro fly by as the two walk in to, again, AN ABSOLUTELY HAUNTED HOUSE. This is the 1772 Windsor Plantation, home to...the Swamp Fox? Huh. Didn’t expect a crossover with the Mel Gibson movie The Patriot, but OK then.

The two talk about their house in the future, and somewhere in the house, a painting’s eyes move mysteriously. Allie plays a tune on the piano, which 1) sounds AMAZINGLY creepy, and 2) I’m pretty sure is the opening song, which is a neat touch. Guess that’s the theme for the movie, or possibly Allie’s leitmotif.

Anyway, it seems that the ghostly wails of Old Man Marion have gotten them both all hot and bothered, and they prepare to make love, right there in the old haunted house. The two undress while social distancing, then approach, significantly raising their risks of contracting COVID-19. Allie is CLEARLY very nervous, and as they attempt to begin the dirty deed, Allie can’t stop rambling about the current situation. Which is clearly putting Noah off the mood, but the two still clearly care about each other. It’s weirdly sweet, considering the fact that there’re, like, 50 ghosts watching, and God knows how many of those are slaaaaaaaAAAANYWAY

Fin suddenly bursts in, as it would appear that Allie’s parents have every policeman in town looking for her. Her parents are clearly upset, and her mother demands that Allie stops seeing Noah, whom she literally describes as “trash.” Jesus. And they aren’t exactly quiet about it, as Noah hears the entire conversation. He understandably leaves, and is also clearly disheartened by the whole situation. 

When Allie catches up to him, he says he has to think about this whole thing, including the fact that she’s going to Sarah Lawrence, and he’s staying behind. And I’m not gonna lie, he’s actually being realistic about this whole thing, and she’s acting FAR less rational. She actually breaks up with him right then and there, and as she’s literally physically assaulting him, I realize that SHE is actually the psychologically unstable one, HOLY SHIT. Emotionally compromised or not, Allie goes BONKERS here.

The next day, her folks decide that they’re leaving, that very day. Allie doesn’t want to leave without making amends with Noah, and she’s regretting her actions the previous night. She goes to Fin, and tells him to tell Noah that she loves him, and that she’s sorry. Noah shows up a little too late, and goes to return the comments, but Allie’s already gone.

Noah somehow gets her address, and writes her 365 letters, one letter every day. He never gets one in response, so he gives up and moves with Fin to Atlanta. Allie’s mom is seen getting the mail, so we know EXACTLY what happened to those letters. Meanwhile, it’s now 1941, and it’s time for World War II for the USA! Fin and Noah fight with Patton’s troops, and Fin doesn’t make it.

Allie, meanwhile, is in college, and works as a Nurse’s Aide for war veterans. She sees all of them as Noah,,,which is weird because she hasn’t gotten any of his letters, so she wouldn’t know that he went to war, but whatever. One of these injured men is Lon Hammond, Jr. (James Marsden). And...aw...AWWWWWWW. Did I just type James Marsden? GODDAMN IT HE’S GONNA GET CUCKED

James Marsden seems to have only one role in movies, and that’s to be overshadowed by another dude, even though in many instances, he’s a totally fine guy. The X-Men films, Superman Returns, Enchanted, the Westworld series in a way, TELL ME I AM GODDAMN WRONG. Dude’s always in movies where he plays the love interest to a girl, and that girl is pursued by another guy, and he ALWAYS LOSES TO THAT GUY. You could argue that Cyclops in the X-Men escaped that fate, but need I remind that first, Jean died, and then she came back AND KILLED HIM. STOP SCREWING OVER JASON MARSDEN’S LOVE LIFE, MOVIES!!!!

Seems like we’re once again headed down that path, though, as the very injured Lon asks Allie out on a date while in recovery, then takes her out once he’s healed. And, since he’s about as forward as Noah was, but less crazy when asking her out, she falls in love with him quickly. And it’s Duke that makes that assessment, not me. And, OF COURSE, he’s a rich Southern boy, meaning that her parents are going to approve.

At a dance club in the city with...black performDEAR GOD IT’S GETTING HARD TO HOLD ON BUT I GOTTA DO IT MOVING ON

He proposes to her, with her parents’ full permission (of course, because he’s rich and southern, gross), and she gladly accepts. He jumps on stage and announces to the entire club that they’re getting married. However, she’s still missing Noah subconsciously.

Speaking of, Noah comes home from war, presumably in 1945, and finds that his father sold him the house in order to buy the Windsor Plantation. Around the same time, Noah finds out that Allie’s moved on, and is with Lon. So, what does he do? The only logical thing: he restores the entire plantation by himself in order to win Allie back FUCKING REALLY?

Dude, you rebuilt an entire house on your own, your father died, and you could EASILY get rich off of selling the house and continuing to restore other derelict properties in the area! Upwards mobility, my man! You don’t even need to stay in town anymore! Hell, THAT’S a better plan to win both Allie’s AND her parents’ approval! STOP SIMPIN’, AND IF YOU’RE GONNA SIMP, DO IT RIGHT!!!

He’s also sleeping with a war widow, Martha Shaw (Jamie Brown), and STILL thinks only of Allie, and her sweet, sweeeeeeet bathwater, probably. Speaking of, Allie’s trying on a wedding dress, when she sees a photo of Noah in the paper in front of the plantation, which certainly shocks her. Confused, she goes to see Lon at his job as a stockbroker, and laments to him her lost romantic whimsy, brought up by seeing Ryan Gosling (AKA a natural response). She tells him that she’s going to Seabrook to “clear her head.” Lon asks if he should be worried. She says no. SHE LIIIIIIIIIIES.

Halfway mark, and this is a good place to cut! See you in Part 2!

[something-tofightfor]

how do you go about analyzing and dissecting the way the characters you write for act. i’ve driven myself into an acidity episode where i’m just afraid that i’m going to write my fanfic to generic and i won’t stay true to the characters. so how do you go about breaking it down and just understanding them at their core to a point that you can plop them into any situation and stay true to them without giving into a fantasy that’s unrealistic for them.

So I think a lot of it comes from how much I watch the source material - and  the fact that I don’t just gloss over details, or focus on what is right in the forefront of scenes. 

I could probably quote season 1 of The Punisher front to back (I have a huge respect for what they did with that season all the way through, not just with Billy). I’ve watched Logan’s scenes in Westworld an obscene amount of times. Jackie and Ryan... I probably put that on once a week because it can be background noise. Caspian ... is the thing that I’ve watched the LEAST, but I think Caspian’s easier to pin down. Sons of Liberty is the same - I’ve only seen it through a few times, but I think it’s easy to get the base characteristics of Sam down (plus I enjoy history, so even though Colonial America is very different from Narnia, there are some similarities). 

For me, if it wouldn’t make sense in the context of the show or movie, it doesn’t go in. That holds true for language, hobbies, speech, mannerisms, clothing... even thoughts. Obviously, you can’t know what the characters are thinking, but I think it’s safe to assume that their thoughts would line up with their actions and the other established characteristics.

If I’m having a difficult time, I’ll rewatch specific scenes (Logan talking to Jim by the pool, Logan telling Billy on the train what WW is, Billy’s Anvil speech, Billy talking to Frank one on one, Ryan and Jackhole talking on the steps of her house) and try to look at things like mannerisms and facial expressions, or even the cadence of the way they speak. 

Authenticity is really important to me, so when I write, I am really careful not to use language that doesn’t make sense - for example, Sam Adams isn’t going to call someone baby, and Caspian isn’t going to go on “dates” ...Billy isn’t going to refer to a woman as honey, and Logan wouldn’t have his accent in the “real” world the same way he does in the park - unless he’s really, really on a roll and worked up. 

Writing is about twisting things to make them unique and do things that haven’t been done before, for but example... Even if Logan DOES fall in love and get married, he’s not just going to pretend that WW didn’t happen, or he didn’t use drugs, or he doesn’t have a past. And Billy? If you take away all the bad things he did and the poor choices he made and just make him a lonely orphan, that’s not Billy. I think that there’s a HUGE difference in changing details and motivations (which works so well in so many cases) and completely glossing over them. 

I’ve said plenty of times that a lot of the stuff that I read feels like people just wanted to use Ben’s face and a character’s name and setting to tell a story without even bothering to consider the bulk of source material. That’s fine - some people need to write about and read about Billy being a businessman that did some Vaguely Bad Shit but it worked out, or Logan meeting and falling in love with a total stranger in four seconds (even though that totally goes against what we know of him from the show). In my opinion, the writers and creators spent a ton of time and effort coming up with these characters - and Ben put a LOT of work into making them come to life, and ignoring that? It seems disrespectful. (Except the Krusty storyline in season TPS2. I get what they were going for, and it was effective in showcasing that EXACTLY ZERO PEOPLE in Billy’s life gave a single goddamn about him. He was used by EVERYONE before and after the TBI, but I pretend that it didn’t happen)

So I won’t do that. I won’t write the characters with kids, because I don’t think Billy or Logan would have wanted kids. (Logan would be terrified because he never had real parental guidance, and Billy cares too little about other people to dedicate time and effort to raising them) ... none of my characters will ever use overly sappy ToE, because we never see that onscreen... so why would  they do it offscreen? 

*side note, there are a few stories that I’ve read that feature “breaks” from character canon that I really, really, really enjoyed - but I’m not reading stories to read people’s personal dream versions of characters, so the further they stray, the harder it is to read, even if it’s super well written. (This doesn’t apply to AUs, because those are often SO DAMN GOOD)

All of this makes me sound like an asshole, but what it really boils down to is that the source material is what the characters are meant to be, and so by utilizing that source material, I feel like I’m able to stay true to the characters no matter where they’re at or who they’re with or what they’re doing. It’s about more than taking it at face value, though, so even sometimes watching interviews or reading them (particularly with Jon and Ben about Frank and Billy, and Ben about Logan) will give me a better idea of their thoughts about the characters, and how I should think about them, too. 

Would I love to imagine Ryan Brenner telling me after a single night that he was going to stop traveling, or Logan meeting me on the train into WW and being enraptured to the point where he changes his lifestyle to be with me? Yes. Would I sell my cold black little heart to have John Whittaker in any form possible? You bet. But based on source material, these things aren’t that simple, and so I can’t allow them to happen in my writing. 

The scenarios don’t matter - they’re important, sure, but when you take the time to look into the characters themselves, you can put them anywhere.. and even if it’s a little out of place (Logan Delos at Disney? Ryan in a bougie ass art gallery? Ben on a pier?) you’ll be able to make it work.

I will warn you, though, that in a lot of cases, it seems like people don’t want to read *real* characters - the things that seem to get the most attention and feedback are the fluffy pieces that are slightly more OOC than the ones that follow canon more closely - but everyone has different preferences, and  that’s the beauty of fanfic, because there’s something for everyone. 

Did this even answer your question? I’m sorry. I rambled - it’s 3:30 am, and I went on a tangent.