#that can't be severed or else he's super dead :(

[mildarka]

Just want to say love your reverted au, but was that all 999 black apples, it also looked traped by postivy arrows. Is that why he doesn't remember anything or have a inventory as it's holding all is stuff and memories? Well anyway love this au, and please talk about it

Yep!

The memory stuff is from something else (all the gang has got pretty bad induced amnesia from Dream + co) but little Night got separated from the apples entirely as an extra precaution. i guess he'd be reverted but still goopy otherwise?? just shorter lmao??

but yeah, no corruption, no inventory. He's basically walking around soulless (but as far as he knows that's completely normal, what's everyone so weirded out about? what even is an inventory??) He can't be checked either but his stats are probably really fucked still. Strength-wise he's just a lil guy, he can't do much harm. He'd be like freakishly powerful if he was ticked off enough but he doesn't really have a way to channel that without the corruption

[chuluoyi]

my boyfriend will kick your ass !

- fushiguro megumi x reader

it's a date gone wrong when you get into an argument with your aloof boyfriend. but will he save you when it counts?

genre/warnings: tw. street harassment, catcalling. hurt/comfort, arguments and reconciliation, protective!megumi and fluff !

note: i miss my emo boi :(

general masterlist

“Stay back!”

This is an utter plot twist. When you came out of your apartment today, all dolled up and ready to go on a date with your boyfriend, you never imagined you’d end up cornered by two creeps in a deserted alley.

“Easy, girl,” one of the guys in front of you cackled, lips curling into an unsettling sneer. “We’re just trying to get to know you better!”

“Listen— My boyfriend is super scary, you know!” you barked, willing yourself not to shake. “Now you better not come any closer or else—!”

“Or else what?” the other creep mocked with a snort. You gripped your umbrella—now your makeshift weapon—tightly, pointing it at him as a threat.

“Or else my boyfriend will be here in any minute and he’ll kick your ass!”

It was a partly a lie you hoped sounded convincing, because how could Megumi suddenly show up and find you in this dingy alleyway... right after both of you had a petty disagreement in the middle of Shibuya's shopping district?

Oh lord, how you regretted raising your voice and running away from him earlier.

"You are late!" you scolded him heatedly as he yawned, showing up twenty minutes later than your agreed time. "Can't you at least text me beforehand? I'll match your time if you do!"

Megumi sighed, fixing you with a blank stare as he scratched his head. "My bad. I overslept. I rushed here so didn't think of it."

It was so easy for him to say, and you would've understood if it was the first time, but you had noticed this pattern over the past two weeks. Whenever you asked him out for dates, his face always soured, and he didn't bother to be on time. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was reluctantly agreeing.

And by this point, you thought you knew better and that was really it.

Finally, you blurted out the burning accusation: "You never realize it, but it shows, you know? You never seem happy when we go out together."

He exhaled in exasperation, green eyes darkening at you. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly that."

It seemed he had run out of patience. Standing your ground, you braced for his next words. But the glare he sent your way and the words he spat pierced your tender heart more than you thought—

"You're always nagging. Can't you stop being annoying just once? What a pain."

Perhaps he was right, you were annoying him all this time and dealing with you was a pain. You could imagine it if you were in his place, but you couldn't handle the very implication that you had done so, and you screamed at his face:

"So be it then! Fushiguro, you are the worst!"

—and ran off with tears in your eyes, deserting him altogether.

You knew you weren’t exactly a model of maturity, but in your defense, it stung deeply that he saw you as annoying and a pain. What girlfriend wouldn’t be hurt by that?

Anyhow, you loitered near the Shibuya station afterwards, and at first you heard some catcalls you didn't really pay mind to. But when those two guys started whistling and edging closer, it hit you—you were their target.

You quickened your pace, turning down several corners, only to find yourself trapped in a dead end. Just how much worse could your day get?

"Aha, the girl says she has a boyfriend!" Creep #1 snickered, turning to Creep #2 with a smirk, before pretending to scan the area. "But I don’t see him?"

"Miss, I swear we’re not up to any trouble," Creep #2 chimed in, his eyes gleaming with a predatory delight. "Won’t you be our friend? You’re too pretty to be alone—this is Shibuya, after all!" he said, eyeing your legs and whistled. "And ooh, have I told you that skirt suits you well?"

These guys were straight-up perverts!

"Get lost!" you yelled, your fingers trembling as you swung the umbrella at him when he tried to close the distance. "Can’t you just leave me alone?!"

You were at your wits' end, and it was clear this situation wasn’t going to improve with them still blocking your way. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart, and decided to do the only thing you could.

In hindsight, a stupid move—

You barreled towards the two of them with your umbrella—managing to push past them. For a moment, you thought you had a chance and ran as fast as you could—

"Ack!" —until you tripped and crashed on the ground.

You rose and immediately winced, looking down at the site where it hurt the most. Oh, you had scrapped your knees badly.

"Ahh, miss! Don't be too hasty~!" you heard the second guy's sing-song voice, and you really wanted to cry. Why did this have to happen to you?

"Don't come c-closer!" you stammered, backing away as they approached. Your whole body shook, desperately trying to think of ways to save yourself. "Or— I'll scream!"

"Whoa, whoa, wait just a minute! Why don't you just—"

You really thought you would scream, until suddenly the familiar scent of mint filled your sense and a strong arm pulled you from behind, and a broad back shielded your view from them—

"What do you need from her?" Megumi's voice boomed, his eyes glaring at the two men who had been harassing you. His breathing was ragged, as if he had run all the way here. "Fuck off."

At that moment, you couldn't help clutching his sleeve, hiding behind him further as you kept trembling. Megumi sensed it, and turned over to have a look over you—

You looked disheveled, spooked, and his eyes widened when he saw the blood trailing down both of your knees.

"Hey man, your girlfriend practically asked for it! Just look how she is dressed—"

Before you could process what was happening, Megumi had yanked the man by his collar and thrown a punch at him. You yelped and immediately got a hold of his arm to stop him further. "Megumi!"

The other guy quickly caught his friend, who spat out a string of curses, his lips bloodied from the punch.

"Fuck. Off." Megumi glowered at them, and they finally got the message, scurrying away in hurry. The moment they did, he faced you again and you finally let out a sob, throwing yourself into him. His body was warm, his heart pounding hard— yet it meant reassurance for you.

"Are you okay...?" his voice was noticeably softer as he wrapped his arms around you and returned the hug. "Did they touch you—?"

Megumi froze when he felt his chest dampen with your tears and heard your sniffles, your figure shaking like a leaf in his embrace. A wave of guilt washed over him, realizing how scared you must have been. Instinctively, he held you tighter.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry," he muttered, his breath warm against your ear. It was as if there was an invincible knife that twisted his chest when it dawned on him what you just got into. "I'm here now, okay? You're safe now."

If it weren’t for his harsh words earlier, you wouldn’t have run off. He kept shushing you, his own heart breaking at the turn of events.

And when you nodded against him, he knew he had to make it up to you somehow.

Later, Megumi tended to your minor injury while crouching down before you, as you sat on a bench near the convenience store where he had picked up the first aid kit.

Your eyes were swollen, your outfit was dirtied, but you ignored the curious looks from passersby. Still shaken, you kept your gaze fixed on your lap.

You recoiled when the disinfectant touched your torn skin, tears welling up again in your eyes. "Ow..."

"It'll hurt just a bit," Megumi looked up at you worriedly, seeing you struggling to hold back tears. He gently blew air on your wound. "It’ll be over soon."

Megumi noticed how you were uncharacteristically quiet. Between the two of you, you were the chatty one and he was the silent listener. But now, you were completely silent, and he knew it was definitely not a good sign.

And so he thought it was a good time to finally explain himself. With a sigh, he began. "I... was on back-to-back missions last week."

You glanced at him, both surprised and confused.

“I was so burnt out— that’s why I’ve been oversleeping lately. Sorry for not meeting you on time.” Megumi applied the ointment to your knees, and you stiffened from the sting. He blew air on them again to ease the discomfort.

"You never told me," you pointed out.

“Yeah, uh, sorry...” he winced. “It’s so... lame. I’ve been exhausted for a week straight whereas Itadori bounces back so easily. Stupid, I know.”

"You... didn't tell me because you don't want to look uncool?"

As soon as you worded it that way, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Megumi remained silent, looking down, and you knew that his silence was a definite yes.

Totally stupid. But exactly how Fushiguro Megumi was always wired. A part of you was exasperated, but also forgave him for it.

When he met your gaze again, he finally saw the light returning to your eyes. It was a relief to him, so he let out a small sigh and put on a strained smile.

"How did you find me anyway?" you asked quietly.

"You didn't pick up my calls. I was worried. And then I ran around until I heard your voice." His eyes narrowed into a frown. "Did they do anything to you?"

You shook your head, and Megumi let out the breath he had been holding, gripping your right hand in his. "I’m glad."

You brushed away the trace of tears on your cheeks as he finished applying band-aids to your knees, awkwardly fiddling with your fingers.

"Sorry for being annoying," you mumbled softly, not meeting his eyes, feeling yourself so small all of a sudden. "Will totally happen again though."

"You..." Unwittingly, he cracked a smile at your blatant remark. "Just... don’t run off again, dummy. Do it where I can see you."

He ruffled your hair gently, then intertwined your fingers with his. "And sorry... for getting mad at you too."

Your cheeks felt warm, so you looked away, puckering your lips together. "...I'm hurt. You have to make it up to me."

He hummed, the beginnings of a smile on his face. "Let's go have that shaved ice you’ve been craving then."

“Huh? You remembered! But you don’t like them?”

“You like that kind of sugar dump, don’t you?”

Hand-in-hand, both of you traversed the Shibuya shopping district together. Your eyes were still puffy, but you were smiling and talking his ears off again just like you always did.

“I told those pricks my boyfriend will definitely kick their asses,” you giggled to yourself, swinging your joined hands in joy. “And you really did~”

“What are you talking about…?”

Sometimes you were beyond his comprehension. Sometimes you were also cute beyond comparison.

And Megumi thought... he liked you the best this way.

[fatecantstopme]

That’s Not What I See

Pairing: Elliot Stabler x Plus Size!Reader

Summary: You're a crime analyst on the Manhattan SVU squad. You've been attracted to Elliot Stabler since you first met him, but you knew there was no way he'd be into you. Men who looked like him never were...at least that's what you thought.

Warnings: Use of pet names. Cursing. Mentions of self-esteem issues. SMUT, praise kink, oral (F receiving), multiple orgasm, unprotected sex (P in V)

You walked into the office gym at 5am, thinking there wouldn't be anyone else there. You hated working out, especially in front of other people. Normally, you used the gym in your apartment building, but it was under construction, so you decided to sneak into the office early.

You'd thrown on leggings and a slightly too small t-shirt, and you were tugging on the shirt uncomfortably as you walked into the gym. You just wanted to get on the treadmill for an hour, but your plans were interrupted when you heard soft grunts coming from across the room.

You froze, hoping whoever it was wouldn't notice you. You moved towards the treadmill quietly, using it as a shield so you could see who was in the room without them seeing you.

From your angle, all you could see was a man's legs on the weight bench across the room. He was laying down and preparing for another rep. When his arms came into view, you let out an involuntary gasp. The Marine Corps tattoo on his right arm was a dead giveaway...it was Elliot Stabler.

He racked the weight bar and sat up, eyes looking in your direction. You knew he couldn't see you, but he must have heard your gasp. Shit, you thought to yourself.

"Hello?" he called.

You decided it would be weird if you didn't respond, so you stepped out from behind the treadmill and gave him a little awkward wave. "Good morning."

He smiled warmly when you came into view. "Morning, (Y/N)."

You could feel his eyes on you, boring holes into your skin, and you tugged on your shirt again. You suddenly wished you'd worn something a little looser, but you hadn't expected to see anyone, least of all him.

"Since when do you come to the gym before dawn?" he asked as he stood up and started walking towards you.

"I--uh--I...normally I don't--umm, I use the gym at home. It's being renovated."

"I see." He stopped right in front of you, giving you an up close and personal view of his beautiful body. Every inch of him was toned, muscles flexing under his skin. "I kinda like having the company."

You let out an awkward chuckle. "I was just gonna...umm--use the treadmill?"

He smiled again and your heart nearly stopped in your chest. "Go for it, doll. You don't need my permission."

You grabbed onto the arm of the treadmill to keep you upright--the term of endearment making your knees buckle. "Yeah," you mumbled.

"Let me know if you need anything." With that, he walked back over to the weight rack to finish his reps.

You were about 5 minutes away from having a full blown heart attack, but it would be super awkward if you left the gym now. So you climbed onto the treadmill and started walking at a steady pace. You did your best to keep your eyes forward, but you could feel Elliot looking at you every time he sat up.

After several minutes, he stood up and came across the room towards you. "Mind if I--?" he asked, gesturing to the machine beside you.

"Oh--uhh, sure," you stammered.

He smiled and got onto the elliptical.

You'd been sucking in your stomach as much as possible since the moment he noticed you...it was restricting your ability to breathe properly, but you didn't care. Standing next to a man who looked that good made you feel incredibly uncomfortable, frumpy even.

"How you liking SVU so far?"

Fuck, now he's gonna ask me questions? I already can't breathe. "I like it, but it's not easy work."

He nodded. "No it's not, but it's rewarding."

"Mhmm," you hummed.

"You're the first crime analyst we've ever had on the squad."

"I know," you said quickly. "I hope I'm adding value."

"You add a lot of value, both to the work we do and to the general morale of the squad."

"Oh," you said in surprise. "I, uhh, I appreciate that."

He chuckled lightly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," you said tentatively.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"What?" you asked in genuine surprise. "Why would you think that?"

"Well...you don't make eye contact with me very often and you stutter a lot when you talk to me--like you're flustered."

"I promise, it's not because you make me uncomfortable." It's because every time I see you, I want you to rip my clothes off and bend me over your desk.

You could feel his eyes on you, almost like he was scanning you--trying to decide if you were being honest. You didn't dare turn your head, you'd either fall on your face or reveal the thoughts in your head.

"Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure," he said with a smile. "I like you, (Y/N)...I don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

That tiny naive voice in the back of your mind squealed he likes me! but the more logical part of your brain ignored it. A man that looked like that was not interested in a woman who looked like you.

"I appreciate that," you mumbled. You'd only been on the treadmill for 40 minutes, but you decided that was more than enough. You wanted to get the hell outta there. You hit 'stop' on the machine and hopped off. "I'm gonna hit the shower. See you in the squad room."

"Okay. See you there."

20 minutes later, you were seated comfortably at your desk, going over some reports you needed to write.

You felt Elliot's presence before you saw him, and you did your best to act nonchalant. He walked up to the desk across from yours and leaned against it. He'd clearly showered and was now dressed in his usual slacks and a button down, sleeves rolled up to reveal his toned forearms and his tattoo.

"You smell really good," he commented. "Body wash or perfume?"

"Oh, uhh--maybe both?" It better be that damn perfume. It was expensive.

He smiled. "Well if it's the perfume, I'd recommend wearing it more often. It smells delicious." He shot you a wink before walking over to his own desk and sitting down.

You couldn't help but wonder if this man knew the effect he had on you and if that was why he was flirting with you. Was he even flirting? Hell, you had no idea. The hotter the man, the more awkward you became. You had a hell of a time reading them and it had messed you up in the past.

It's not that you had low self-esteem necessarily, it's just that you'd put on a fair amount of weight in the last couple years and it definitely affected your self-confidence. Hence why you'd started going to the gym every day...you wanted to get that young, happy, thinner version of you back.

As the day progressed, you forgot all about your encounter with Elliot that morning. It was a busy day and it flew by. Before you knew it, it was after 7pm and you were still curled up at your desk, typing away on your computer.

You heard a throat clear to your left and you turned to glare at whomever it was that dared to interrupt you. "Oh, Elliot!" you exclaimed in surprise. "I figured you'd gone home by now."

"I thought you would have too," he said with a shrug. "I'm actually just heading out now, but I wanted to see if you were hungry."

At that exact moment, your stomach let out a little grumble. You realized you'd worked straight through lunch and you were starving. "I could eat."

He raised an eyebrow. "You didn't eat lunch, so I'm betting you're starving."

He was paying that much attention? "Yeah, you're right. It's probably time to get the hell outta here anyway."

"My thoughts exactly. Come on, I'll take you home. We can get dinner on the way--my treat."

You normally took the subway, but it was after dark and the squad didn't like you walking home or riding the subway alone. "Oh, you don't have to do that."

"It's not a chore, (Y/N). We can stop anywhere you'd like."

You bit your lip as you thought about it. You really should turn him down, but if you'd learned anything in your time with SVU, it was that being a woman in New York was dangerous enough without walking alone at night.

"There's a little pizza shop by my apartment," you conceded.

He grinned. "How'd you know I was thinking pizza?"

You laughed. "You eat it all the time...you must think pizza is a vegetable."

He laughed. "It's delicious. Grab your coat."

You hurried to pack up, then you threw on your coat and followed him out to his car. It was a chilly night, but the sky was clear and the air was crisp.

Elliot made small talk on the way to the pizza place. You were thankful that he carried the majority of the conversation and you couldn't wait to have food to occupy your mouth with so you wouldn't sound like such an idiot.

"I don't think I've ever been here," he commented as he found a parking spot near the shop.

"It's the absolute best," you insisted enthusiastically.

He smiled at your animation. "This is the most excited I've ever seen you."

You blushed. "I like food."

"So do I...and I'm starving, so let's go in."

As soon as you walked in the door, you heard a thick Italian accent yell your name. "(Y/N)! Looking beautiful as ever."

You smiled at the older man, embracing him when he came around the counter for a hug. "You're too sweet, Gio."

After he released you from the bear hug, he turned to look at Elliot, clearly sizing him up. "Who is this?"

"This is Elliot. We work together," you said reassuringly. "Elliot, this is Giovanni Romano, owner and chef extraordinaire."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Elliot said as he extended his hand for a shake.

Gio looked him up and down, and apparently decided he liked him because he smiled really wide and said, "No handshakes! We hug here," before wrapping a surprised Elliot into a hug.

You laughed at the look on Elliot's face. Gio finally let him go and Elliot looked relieved, if not a little shocked.

"Maria!" Gio yelled towards the back. "La principessa is here with il innamorato."

You turned red as a tomato and prayed Elliot didn't speak Italian. "Gio!" you hissed.

"My principessa?" Maria yelled as she came out of the kitchen. She bustled over to where you were still standing by the door.

"She's Gio's wife," you whispered to Elliot a millisecond before she grabbed you in a tight hug.

She then turned her attention to Elliot. She nodded approvingly and turned to whisper to you, "Lui è bello."

You blushed again. "Sì," you mumbled back. "Now silenzio, per favore."

She smiled at you and gave your cheek an affectionate tap. "What can we get the two of you, amorino?"

You smiled. "Two of your best pies, Maria." You turned to Elliot, realizing he might not want you to order for him. "If that's okay with you."

He smiled. "I trust you."

"Two pies coming up!" Maria said with a smile. She grabbed Gio and practically dragged him towards the kitchen with her. You could hear her talking about Elliot and you in Italian and it made you laugh.

Elliot followed you to a table near the back of the small building. "So, uh...you come here often?"

You blushed. "Nearly every day when I was in school," you said honestly. "The food is delicious, cheap, and there's free WIFI. Plus, Gio and Maria have become like family to me."

"They seem really sweet."

You smiled fondly. "They're the best. I don't have any family of my own, but they both kinda took me under their wings...like an Aunt and Uncle."

"That's very kind of them."

Gio appeared with two waters, before he disappeared again with a wink in your direction.

"I didn't know you spoke Italian."

"Oh, uh, yeah. Gio and Maria taught me. I ended up minoring in Italian at NYU."

"So, uh...what did they say about me?"

"Hmmm?" you pretended not to know what he was talking about...you really didn't want to answer him.

"Come on, I know they were talking about me."

"Maria said you were handsome, that's all."

He raised his eyebrow. "Why don't I believe you?"

"She did!" you insisted.

"I don't think that's the only thing she said."

You blushed.

"You're blushing."

"It's warm in here."

"No, it's not. Just tell me what she said."

You bit your lip. "Do I have to?"

He laughed. "No, but I'd really like to know."

"Technically that's all Maria said. Gio, on the other hand...well, he called you my um...well in Italian it means 'lover', but you can think of it more like boyfriend, I guess? Or maybe more like sweetheart?" you rambled.

Elliot laughed heartily. He enjoyed watching you fumble for what to say. It was endearing and incredibly cute. "I hope you didn't correct them."

You nearly spit out your water. "What?"

"Well, if you're as close to them as you seem to be...then they would know if you were seeing someone right?"

You nodded.

"And their assumption that I'm your lover means you're not seeing anyone?"

You nodded again, clearly uncomfortable.

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah," he said with a smile. "Good." He picked up his water and took a long drink, eyes never leaving yours.

What the actual fuck is happening? "I'm confused."

He shrugged. "Let me put it this way, I'm honored they would think I'm your lover."

You choked on nothing but air. "Excuse me?"

He smiled again, wider than before. He leaned in closer to make sure no one but you could hear his next words. "I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about it."

Your jaw nearly hit the floor. You stared at him in shocked silence for what felt like an eternity.

Like a little Italian savior, Maria appeared beside the table with her famous focaccia.

You grabbed a piece of the delicious bread and took a massive bite, despite the fact that it was fresh from the oven. It burned your mouth, but you didn't care. You needed something to distract you from the words Elliot had just said and the way he was staring at you.

Maria gave you look that said slow down, but she didn't say it out loud. "The rest will be out soon, amorino."

Once Maria was out of ear shot, Elliot asked, "What does amorino mean?"

"Essentially 'little love'. It's a term of endearment," you answered, grateful for the change in topic.

Elliot steered the conversation in other directions for the rest of dinner. He asked you all sorts of questions about your life and answered several of your own. He didn't mention what he'd said earlier, and you were fine pretending it hadn't happened.

After dinner, Elliot insisted on paying the bill, even though Gio tried to comp it. You knew it made Elliot look respectable in Gio's eyes and for some reason, that made you proud.

"I'll pull the car up," Elliot told you before heading outside.

"He's lovely, principessa," Gio said softly.

"I know, but he's just a friend, Gio."

"Ahh, amorino, you are young! You cannot see," he insisted.

"Can't see what?"

"The way he looks at you, (Y/N/N)," Maria said gently as she joined the two of you.

"Like you hung the moon," Gio finished.

"You two are romantics," you said with a laugh.

"Perhaps, but we are old...we've lived. We both know what it means when a man looks at a woman the way Elliot looks at you," Maria assured you.

She wrapped you in a tight hug and Gio followed.

"Now go, principessa," Maria said with a smile. "He's waiting."

You turned to look out the door and sure enough, Elliot was standing on the sidewalk, leaning against the car, waiting for you to come outside.

You said your goodbyes and met Elliot out on the sidewalk. "Fancy meeting you here," you teased.

He smiled. "It's almost like I planned it that way."

You laughed and walked towards the now open passenger side door. Elliot helped you into the car and closed the door before going to his side and getting in.

During the short drive to your apartment, you watched Elliot out of the corner of your eye. You were looking for whatever it was that Gio and Maria insisted they saw. He was relaxed, more so than he ever was at work, and he seemed genuinely comfortable. But comfort and desire were two very different things.

Much sooner than you would have liked, Elliot pulled up in front of your building. This time of night, there wasn't much by way of street parking, but he managed to snag a spot a block away. "I'll walk you in."

"You don't have to," you assured him.

"It's after 9...there are pervs on the street."

You almost laughed, but you knew he was serious. His statement wasn't funny, so much as the way he said it. "Alright, come on."

He followed you to the front door of your building. You punched in the code and the door unlocked. As you pulled it open, you had a sudden burst of confidence.

"Would you like to come up?" you blurted.

You weren't sure who was more surprised, you or Elliot. He certainly recovered faster than you. "I'd love to."

You just nodded awkwardly and held the door for him to follow you in. The two of you took the stairs in silence, a silence that continued all the way to your door. "This is me," you mumbled.

You unlocked the door without looking at him and gestured for him to enter. You were thankful you'd cleaned the apartment the day before, so everything was neat and organized.

"It's a cute place," he commented.

"Thanks," you moved to the kitchen, needing something to do with your hands. "It's all I can afford. Do you--uh, do you want a drink?"

"Sure," he said warmly as he slipped his coat off and draped it over the back of the chair.

You poured him a drink and poured yourself a double. Lord knew you needed a little more liquid courage than he did. You were taking a risk--making a gamble you weren't sure would pay off.

You came into the living room and handed him his drink before sitting on the couch beside him. You left space between you, just in case he wanted there to be some.

You were drinking your beverage a little faster than you should have and he noticed. "You alright?"

"Mhmm," you hummed.

"Is this about what I said at the restaurant?"

"Umm--uhh--"

"Because I didn't mean to offend you or make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't," you said quickly. It had made you uncomfortable, but not in the way he was thinking.

"Okay, good." He took a sip of his drink. "Because I meant it."

You exhaled sharply and he turned to look at you.

He sat his glass down on the coffee table and scooted closer to you. "I think about it all the time, (Y/N). I think about you all the time. It's almost annoying--you occupy my thoughts all day every day and I don't know how to deal with it. You make me feel like a teenager again."

You didn't know what to say. You'd dreamed of this happening, but you never actually thought it would. Now that you were sitting in this position, you had no idea what to do.

"I know I'm older than you--hell, I might be too old for you, but I can't help the way I feel. I'll never bring it up again if that's what you want, but I wanted to tell you the truth."

"You're not too old for me," you said quickly.

"How old are you?"

"30."

"Oh," he seemed almost relieved. "I thought you were younger than that...I actually feel better."

You laughed lightly. "10 years isn't all that much."

He shook his head. "Not at our ages."

You fell silent again, unsure what to say next. You finished your drink, then set it on the coffee table beside his. "Why me?"

He looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Why would you want me?"

"Because you're incredible?"

You rolled your eyes. "Elliot, come on. Look at us."

"I don't understand."

You sighed, feeling reluctant to answer. "Look at you. Hot, muscular, in incredible shape. Then look at me. I'm none of those things--I'm overweight, frumpy, and average at best."

He stared at you in silence for a long moment, shock evident in his features. "While I appreciate the compliments, doll, that's not what I see when I look at you."

You almost didn't want to ask, but you had to know. "What do you see?" you whispered.

He moved closer to you so he could take your hand in his. "I see a beautiful woman with warm, caring eyes, and a gentle heart. I see a woman who makes me laugh, a woman who's witty and charming and brilliant. I see the kind of woman I can imagine a future with."

You were breathless by the time he'd finished speaking. No man had ever said anything like that to you before, even before you'd put on weight.

"Do you want more details? I can give you more," he said softly as he leaned forward so his body hovered over yours. You were caged in the corner of the couch and for the first time in a long time, you felt tiny.

You couldn't find the words, so you simply nodded.

He smiled down at you and licked his lips. "I see the sexiest woman I've ever met--a woman I've wanted to touch since the moment I laid eyes on her. Every part of her gorgeous body is perfect...and I want to claim it all as mine," he finished with a soft growl.

Every instinct in your body was screaming at you to just do something and you finally gave in. You wanted this as much as he did, so why not indulge?

You leaned forward and crashed your lips against his, moaning softly as he pulled you closer. He deepened the kiss, desperate to feel as much of you as he could.

You shifted beneath him, allowing him to settle between your legs. He wedged his knee against your crotch and brought his hands down to your sides.

You moaned softly as his lips began to trace your jaw line, then down your neck, then to the sweet spot behind your ear.

You felt his hot breath in your ear as he whispered, "You're so beautiful." You shivered involuntarily and your hips bucked forward in search of friction.

He chuckled softly. "Needy, are we?"

"Yes," you admitted, allowing the desperation to creep into your voice. "Need you."

"Oh sweet thing, don't you worry, I'll take care of you."

"Elliot," you whimpered softly.

He groaned. "God I love hearing you say my name like that."

He grabbed you around the waist and pulled you against him. You instinctively wrapped your legs around him and he whispered, "Good girl."

You shuddered, the praise going right to your core. It didn't go unnoticed by him, and he tucked it in the back of his mind for later.

"Where's the bedroom?"

You pointed to the right and he stood up with you still wrapped around him like a baby koala. "Elliot!" you yelped.

He smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. "Don't worry, baby, I got you."

He carried you to your room with ease, tossing you onto the bed like you weighed nothing more than a rag doll. You'd never been so turned on in your damn life.

He climbed on the bed, covering you with his large form. His lips sought yours again, latching onto you like you were his lifeline. Your left hand trailed up his back, your fingers gently clutching the hairs at the back of his head.

He continued to kiss you, but your mind began to wander. You thought about seeing him in the gym earlier that morning and your body started to heat up even more. You wanted to see all of him, not just his arm muscles.

You gripped the edge of his shirt and tugged harshly, desperate to get it off him as fast as possible. He chuckled softly as he sat up, just long enough to take off his shirt.

He was back on top of you before you could register the view--and you found yourself annoyed. An idea popped into your head and you smirked against his lips. He might be a hell of a lot stronger than you, but you had the element of surprise.

You wrapped your legs around his waist again, pulling him towards you so you could lock your ankles around him. His groan quickly turned into a gasp of surprise when you flipped him onto his back. You smiled down at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked lightly.

"I wanted to see you better...so I'm in control now."

He didn't often give up control anywhere, let alone the bedroom, but you looked so pleased with yourself that he couldn't help but acquiesce.

Your eyes had drifted from his face to his exposed torso. He watched as your hands followed the curve of his muscles, eyes drinking in every inch of his skin. The way you looked at him was intoxicating--it was like a drug he didn't wanna quit.

Your eyes flicked back up to his and he saw the unbridled lust in them. It took every ounce of self-control he had to not flip you over and fuck you senseless. All he could think about was hearing you screaming his name, but he knew he had to wait. He had a feeling it would be worth it.

"Can I touch you?" he asked softly.

You nodded and he immediately grabbed your hips and tugged you onto his abdomen. He wanted you to be a little bit closer so he could touch every part of you. His hands slowly slid under the hem of your shirt and for a moment, you froze--panic rising in your chest.

Elliot saw it flicker across your face, so he stopped moving, but he didn't remove his hands. He wanted to make sure you knew he was only stopping to make sure you were comfortable, not because he found something he didn't like.

"Can I keep going?" he whispered.

You nodded cautiously, so he slowly moved his hands farther up your belly. He enjoyed the feeling of your soft curves and he had a feeling he was really going to enjoy holding onto you while he fucked you.

He reached the edge of your bra and paused, waiting for you to indicate it was okay for him to continue. You didn't tell him to stop, so he slid his hands up over your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze. You released a soft sigh and he did his best to keep moving at a slow pace, despite wanting to literally rip your clothes off.

You allowed him to pull your shirt up and over your head, and it took all the energy you had not to wrap your arms around yourself and hide. When you saw the look on his face--the hunger in his eyes--you suddenly didn't feel as self-conscious as before. Your body reacted to him in the same way his reacted to you, and you felt the desperation begin to creep in.

You shifted your hips, seeking some kind of friction against his body, while your nails raked down his chest. He groaned softly, but his hands didn't leave your body. Instead, they slipped around to your back and quickly unhooked your bra.

The moment your breasts came into full view, his hands began to massage and knead them, fingers pinching and twisting your nipples gently.

You moaned and dug your nails into his sides, gripping them for stability. He looked up at you, at your dark, lust-filled eyes, and he lost control for a moment. He flipped you onto your back so fast you let out a little yelp in surprise.

That yelp quickly turned to deep moans as his mouth attached to your breasts, sending bolts of pleasure through your body. His hands fumbled with the button and zipper of your pants--he was about 3 seconds away from ripping them when he finally got the buttons undone.

"Why are women's dress pants so complicated? There are literally THREE buttons." he mumbled against your skin.

You laughed warmly, knowing he was right. "Try wearing them sometime."

He grinned up at you. "They look better on you, but..." he tugged your pants off and tossed them onto the floor. "...just as I thought, they look much better on the floor."

You chuckled at his joke and rolled your eyes. You were about to comment on the cheesiness of his statement, when he sat up and began removing his own pants. You were so focused on watching him that you forgot what you were about to say.

You eyed his bulge when it came into view and you began to pant with need. Elliot noticed and gave you a little smirk. "Want me to take these off?" he asked, gesturing to his boxers.

You nodded rapidly.

"Sorry, baby, I didn't catch that."

"Yes, please," you said aloud.

"Good girl."

You moaned and rolled your hips involuntarily--the praise going directly to your core.

His words had the desired effect on you and it only made him want you more. He tugged off his underwear and climbed back into the bed, but you stopped him with a gasp.

"Absolutely not," you said with wide eyes.

"What?" he asked in confusion. He followed your line of sight and realized you were staring directly at his dick. "Something wrong?"

"It's not gonna fit."

Elliot nearly collapsed in relief as he started to laugh. "Baby, you had me worried for a minute." He laughed again. "Don't worry, it'll fit."

You shook your head. "I might be a big girl, but my vagina isn't."

He laughed again. "You're perfect, baby, and I promise you, I'll be gentle."

You finally looked back up at him, eyes still filled with doubt. He offered you a warm smile and it helped to put you at ease. "Okay," you murmured. "I trust you."

"That's my girl." He climbed back on top of you and kissed you deeply.

When he broke off the kiss, he began to make his way down your body, lips never more than an inch away from your skin. He was dying to taste you and he was quite certain he'd waited long enough.

When he reached your core, his eyes flicked up to yours to make sure you were watching. He grabbed ahold of the edge of your panties with his teeth and tugged on them--pulling them down your body with nothing but his mouth.

You didn't know why the hell that was so hot, but good god it was. But nothing could have prepared you for the sight of Elliot's large body between your legs, mouth mere centimeters from where you needed him. You'd never imagined he'd look this damn good, nor did you imagine you would feel so comfortable baring yourself to him completely.

Elliot locked eyes with you as he placed soft kisses to your inner thighs and your pussy lips. He breathed in your scent as he did so, and he had to grip the bedsheets to keep from losing his control.

You were panting heavily, the anticipation nearly killing you. "Elliot, please," you whimpered, hips jerking slightly.

He smiled as he placed another kiss to your mound. "Please what, baby?"

"Do something," you begged.

"Something?"

"Anything! Please!"

Normally he would have kept asking until you used your words and told him what you really wanted, but he was having a hard time resisting his own urges right now, so he decided to have mercy on you.

He dove into you with abandon, mouth working you in ways you'd never imagined. It was like having a sex god between your legs--not that you'd ever say that to him, he'd probably find it blasphemous--but in that moment, you couldn't be bothered to care.

Your nails raked against his scalp as you struggled to find purchase somewhere on his body. Your hands finally came to rest on his biceps, nails digging into his skin as you held on for dear life.

Your body jerked beneath him, the pleasure so immense that he had to hold you down to keep you from squirming away from him. He glanced back up at your face to make sure you were enjoying it--and was met with the most beautiful sight.

Your head was thrown back against the pillows, mouth open as you moaned and panted. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly with each heavy breath you took. He wished he could see your face better, but it was more than obvious you were enjoying yourself.

He somehow learned exactly what you liked, and what you needed, without you having to say a single word. You were more than pleased because you were certain you couldn't actually speak. The only sounds coming from your mouth were moans and something that closely resembled his name.

His fingertips were digging into your hips as he held you in place--his grip so tight it was sure to leave bruises. Your legs began to shake around him and your thighs started to close in on his head, but he was more than happy to wear your legs like earmuffs.

Your moans rose in volume and length, signaling you were close. Your nails dug deeper into his biceps, pressing crescent shapes into his skin. It would have been painful in any other setting, but he was more than delighted to bear the pain.

He knew you were close to orgasm, so he sped up his movements, tongue dancing against your clit with expert precision.

You gasped his name, hips jerking against him as you came. He held on tightly as he helped you ride out your high--not stopping even as you began to whimper.

"Too sensitive, Elliot," you gasped.

He lifted his head long enough to say, "I'm not done," before diving in with renewed vigor.

You gasped at the intensity of the sensations and within seconds you could feel a second orgasm building within you.

He lifted his head again. "Unless you want me to stop?"

"No!" you practically yelled. Your hand grabbed the back of his head and pushed him back down and he chuckled warmly at your insistence.

"I didn't think so," he mumbled before licking his way back into your pussy.

Unlike your first orgasm, your second hit you suddenly and quickly--rendering you nearly speechless. You could do nothing but gasp for air as wave after wave of pleasure threatened to drown you in an ocean of passion.

Elliot finally lifted his head, a satisfied smirk resting on his handsome features. You looked down at him, breathless and wide eyed, and he felt his body heat up.

He moved with such speed that it surprised you, nearly pouncing on top of you, mouth mere inches from yours. He seemed to be studying your face and for a moment you felt embarrassed--unaccustomed to such a lustful expression on another person's face.

But the way he looked at you--the desire evident in his eyes--simultaneously put you at ease and made you want him with renewed desire.

He touched your cheek, which was flushed bright red. He could feel the heat radiating from it and he liked being the cause of such a reaction. "You look beautiful like this," he whispered.

Your cheeks turned a darker crimson and he smiled, knowing he'd caused that as well. "I like you like this," he murmured. "Laid out beneath me, pretty eyes wide, lips parted, hair a mess...I've never seen anything so sexy."

"Elliot," you whispered. You didn't know what else to say, so you let your body do the talking for you. You tugged him down to you, lips latching onto his as you kissed him hungrily.

He lowered himself to be closer to you, careful not to put his weight on top of you--he didn't want to hurt you. His hands tangled in your hair as he deepened the kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You moaned softly, hips pressing upward against his pelvis. His cock brushed against your core, earning a groan from deep in his chest.

You liked the sound he made and you were desperate to hear more of them, so you did it again, this time more slowly and with more pressure. He pressed against you, his own body seeking friction of its own volition.

You slipped your dominant hand between your bodies and wrapped it around the base of his cock, squeezing gently as you stroked upward. He groaned and his hips bucked against your hand.

Even though he was on top of you, you felt like you were in control...and you were going to use it to your advantage. You slipped the head of his cock between your folds, sliding it upward against your clit. He groaned and bit down into the soft flesh of your neck and you gasped at the mixture of pain and pleasure.

You were about to do it again, but Elliot pulled just out of reach. "Baby if you keep doing that, I'm gonna lose control."

Your eyes widened innocently. "What if that's exactly what I want?"

His eyes widened in surprise. "What?" he croaked.

"What if I want you to lose control? What if I like the idea of you fucking me like a feral wild animal? I want you to fuck me so well I can't walk tomorrow. Make me scream, Elliot. Please."

The seductive tone in your voice morphed into a plea at the end--a plea Elliot could not refuse. Not when you looked so gorgeous and needy beneath him...not when you said his name like that...not when you begged him to fuck you like he'd been dreaming about for months.

He grabbed his cock and began to rub it gently against your entrance, earning soft moans of pleasure from you. He knew you would feel incredible, but he was trying to hang onto whatever sanity he had left.

"Relax for me, baby," he whispered gently. He felt the tension in your body ease a little, but he needed you to be completely relaxed or he was definitely going to hurt you.

He gently rubbed circles into your hips, trying to calm your racing heart. "I've got you, doll. I'll go real slow, okay?"

You nodded, expression still worried.

"Hey," he whispered, leaning forward to kiss you softly. "You tell me to stop, I stop, okay? No matter what."

"I don't want you to stop," you whispered.

He smiled gently. "Just in case, baby." He kissed you again before assuming his previous position. "Just relax, beautiful. It'll feel so good--I know you're ready for me."

You relaxed your body as much as you could, but nothing could have properly prepared you for the stretch you were about to experience.

Elliot began to slowly enter you, eyes never leaving your face. Every time you winced or inhaled sharply, he wanted to stop, but you told him to keep going.

Once he fully bottomed out, your breathing was ragged as your body adjusted to his size. He was using every ounce of will power he'd ever had to just stay still.

"You're doing so well for me, baby," he managed to groan out. "Such a good girl."

Your pussy spasmed around him as the words "good girl" registered in your brain. You suddenly needed him to move...

The moment he felt you clench around him, something inside of him snapped and it was game over for him. Whatever self-control he'd had went out the window and he started to move, setting a fast pace from the start.

Your cries mixed with his groans as he slammed into you with force. Somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, he worried he was hurting you, but one look at your face shut that voice down instantly.

You looked much like you did when he'd been eating you out, only this time he had a view of your face. It was a sight to behold--one he didn't think he'd ever get over.

"You feel so good, baby," he whispered.

"Please, El--" you whimpered.

He wasn't sure what you needed and you didn't appear to be in any position to tell him, so he decided to take matters into his own hands. He shifted his body so your hips were angled up, one leg on either side of head. As he thrust into you, you cried out desperately, hands fisting the sheets beside you.

He felt as the head of his cock hit that soft spot inside you--and he knew he couldn't stop now. He kept up his pace, slamming into your g-spot with each thrust.

The sounds coming from your mouth were incredible--he wanted to hear them every single day for the rest of his life. You were shaking with pleasure, body writhing against him as he struggled to keep you in place.

He needed to feel you cum around his cock at least once before he found his own release...so all of his focus was on getting you to your next orgasm.

He started to murmur dirty things to you, noticing the way your body reacted to his words. "Your pussy feels so good, baby. So tight and warm--I could stay here all night."

You were way too far gone to respond verbally, but your body told him everything he needed to know.

"You're taking me so well--squeezing so tight."

He placed soft, sloppy kisses to your calves, hips never slowing their intense pace.

"This is my pussy, you hear me? Mine. I'm gonna make sure she feels so good, baby."

You moaned loudly--clearly liking the idea of being his.

"You like that, huh? You like knowing you're mine? Like knowing I'm marking you? No one else will ever compare, baby--gonna ruin you."

"Elliot!" you screamed as your orgasm came crashing down on you. Your pussy spasmed around his cock, squeezing him so tightly he could hardly breathe.

The feeling of your orgasm triggered his own, sending him spiraling over the edge with a deep groan and whispers of your name. He filled you with his seed, letting your legs fall to either side of his hips as he stuttered his last few thrusts.

He collapsed on top of you, whispering your name against your skin like a prayer. He kissed your jaw and your neck--the affection warming your heart as you lay beneath him, slowly coming down from your high.

After several moments, Elliot pulled out of you and rolled onto his back. You both lay on the bed, breathless, as you tried to regain control of your heart rates.

Elliot grabbed your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours as he lay beside you. He turned to look at you and he smiled, taking in your beautiful post-sex glow.

You turned your head to look at him and smiled warmly. "That was..."

"Fucking incredible."

"I was gonna say decent," you teased.

He laughed and jokingly rolled away from you.

"Come back! I was kidding!" you called after him.

He kept laughing as he looked over his shoulder at you. "Come get me then."

"I can't move," you said simply.

He rolled back towards you, body now facing you. "Oh yeah? And it was just decent?"

"Decent--best sex of my life--same thing."

He grinned wolfishly and leaned in to kiss you. "That's more like it."

You rolled your eyes and affectionately smacked his arm. "Cocky, are we?"

"I know what I'm good at," he said with a shrug.

"Smart ass," you teased.

"But you like my ass," he teased back.

"It does look nice in those jeans you sometimes wear. Makes me wanna bite it."

"Oooo, kinky."

You both laughed.

Elliot looked down and his expression immediately sobered.

"What's wrong?"

"I--I didn't--I was so caught up..."

"What?"

He looked back up at you, a look of regret on his handsome face. "I didn't even think about putting on a condom, (Y/N)...I--God, I'm so sorry."

You shrugged. "No need to worry. I trust that you're clean."

"I am," he assured you. "But what about...pregnancy?"

"Oh," you brushed him off. "We definitely don't need to worry about that. I have a tiny sperm murderer living in my uterus."

"You have a what?"

You laughed. "I have an IUD."

He started laughing too. "Oh! 'Sperm murderer'..." he mumbled as he laughed even harder.

You grinned ear to ear. "I was gonna call it a tiny copper knight defending my honor, but I figured that was too much."

"You're so weird," he teased. "Come here."

You giggled as he grabbed you and dragged you against his chest. He held you tightly as he kissed your skin softly. "You're so beautiful," he whispered.

"Elliot..."

"You are," he insisted.

For the first time in a long time, you felt truly beautiful, but more importantly, you felt seen. He knew who you were and wanted you anyway. He liked you for you...and he liked your body, which was really just a bonus.

"What are you thinking about?"

"If we should get a shower...or go for round two?"

He groaned softly. "I'm an old man, doll."

You rolled over so you were on top of him. "Well that's just a pity...there's so much I wanna do to you."

His eyes seemed to burn as he looked at you. There was absolutely no way in hell he could say no to you. "You're gonna be the death of me."

"At least you'll die a happy man."

He grinned. "No man has ever been happier."

Before you could respond, he grabbed you and pulled you down to him, slamming his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. Your last coherent thought before Elliot sent you into orgasmic oblivion again was I guess that's a yes for round two.

[readychilledwine]

Okay, nightshirt headcanon here, the other person also found it hilarious but didn’t write anything about it. Go for it!

Oversized Nightshirt Headcanons

Warning-implied smut and implied SA

A/N - The number of boobs and butts I went through to find this gif was ridiculous.

Rhys-

It started as a bet when the bat boys were young that Rhys wouldn't be able to pull a female without his fine tailored clothing

Cassian and Azriel were wrong. Very, very wrong. They forgot about you. Rhysand didn't, though. He never could or would.

In fact, that night is when the bond snapped between you two, and after several rounds, you ended up in his baggy night shirt the next morning making coffee. Rhys stood there smirking as Azriel and Cassian secretly slid him their losses.

Since then, Rhys seduces you one of two ways: completely naked or with a sneak peak of his slutty little legs under the baggy shirt

You love the shirt. Just because you know you get to cuddle into it to soak up his scent the next day.

He keeps the baggy thing around for the memory of it alone. It was the night the bond snapped, the night you became his beyond just casual hook ups.

But don't tell anyone else, he sleeps it in before high lord meetings because he considers it his lucky shirt. He'll deny it if you say so, though. He can't be caught dead in it.

Cassian-

Cassian gives zero fucks about what he wears at home, so you see his baggy night shirt frequently.

He's also shameless when it comes to you.

He will lean against a wall, arm stretched up above him, and just smirk at you. He knows the shirt isn't covering ANYTHING.

You won't say no to him, regardless of what he's wearing, but you always know if that baggy shirt comes out, it won't be a serious night.

Don't get me wrong, the orgasms come left and right, but there's so much laughter involved during the sex that you can't help but smile the whole time.

Cassian makes the baggy shirt work for you. It's the confidence and the male, not his clothing.

Azriel-

You gave it to Azriel to stop you from being all over him at night. Those grey sweatpants? Too sexy.

The male thought he could sleep naked instead of grey sweatpants? Absolutely not. One way ticket to pound town.

You thought the baggy sleep shirt would stop you two since it made you think of a little old fae in their care homes. You paired it with a stocking cap just to be really ridiculous.

Azriel took it as a challenge, though.

It turns out it didn't prevent you from having a thing for his arms, and those short sleeves became a big tease, only letting you see the veins in his forearms but not his biceps.

It also didn't stop him from coming up behind you, whispering in your ear what he'd do to you tonight.

In short, the baggy sleep shirt does nothing to stop you from riding Az.

It is hilarious to watch him throw it on for bat boy sleep over nights

Lucien-

Listen, you two couldn't take it seriously the first night he tried to wear a baggy sleep shirt.

He and Tamlin had bought them thinking they'd be super comfortable.

They were right, but you laughed so hard when your husband came into the bedroom.

You were so used to seeing him in fine threads and tight clothing that you were laughing from shock.

From that point, Lucien only wore his fine pajama pants and no shirt. Just the way you liked him.

That is, until after Ianthe. That shirt became his comfort as you two began sleeping in a different room.

He used it as a shield, hiding his new shame and insecurity

It still stays folded in one of the drawers of your shared dresser, coming out when he needs comfort or to feel safe.

There's no laughing anymore when he wears it, just gently praise and snuggles

Eris -

Yeah, he doesn't wear it. Ever.

His mother gave it to him when he complained about how cold the forest house was where the two of them slept.

Beron, as a punishment, ensures the chambers his mother had towards the top of the house, and Eris's chambers were not protected from Autumn's cruel cold nights.

Momma Vanserra, in all of her kindness, thought she was giving her oldest son a wonderful gift.

Eris gagged when he showed it to you. "Imagine me in this, little fox. Who would ever wear this?"

The answer was his father. It was the first time you witnessed Eris burn something without warning, and the only time he used his magic without telling you.

You two much prefer him sleeping in his little silky boxers anyway. Easier access.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage

[fuckyeahisawthat]

So Denis Villeneuve has this particular type of close-up shot that he uses to varying degrees in all his movies but uses a lot in Dune, particularly when shooting Paul. In fact he uses one for the very first shot of Paul in Dune Part One.

There are some common cinematographic elements that define what I would consider the Villeneuve Close-Up (TM), but I'll admit there is also a vibes-based, you-know-it-when-you-see-it element to picking out these shots, which means all discussion here is somewhat subjective and we're talking about general trends instead of fixed categories. But in general, in these shots the camera tends to be at eye-level with the character, which means it can be very low or even on the ground if they are having a floor-based experience.

Sometimes we're in a SUPER extreme close-up where the character's face is filling the frame.

Other times we are not actually that close but we know we are seeing something that other characters are not.

The character may be alone or they may be surrounded by people, but the point of these shots is to reveal something to us the audience that no one else in the scene sees, pulling us into a private emotional world where it's just us and the character. It's a very effective tool for building sympathy and emotional intimacy.

I'm not the only person who's noticed that we lose this specific kind of close-up of Paul entirely in the section of the movie after Paul drinks the Water of Life. I've seen this described as "we're no longer seeing from Paul's POV" or even "he stops being the protagonist of the movie at that point" but I don't think either of these are exactly what's going on. Seeing the world of the story through a certain character's POV is different from what I'm talking about here, and Dune Part Two takes us through many shifts in POV over the course of the movie.

What happens is that we, the audience, recoil from our close, intimate visual and emotional relationship to Paul--or maybe he withdraws from us--for a portion of the movie after he drinks the Water of Life. But, crucially, not right away.

This shot in the "we're Harkonnens" conversation is such a classic Villeneuve Close-Up (TM). We're positioned as if we're sitting right next to Paul, seeing something on his face that is mostly hidden from Jessica, who's standing across the room and slightly behind him.

I think this shot is super important for telling us (even if we only register it subconsciously) that the Paul we know is not completely dead. Drinking the Water of Life may make you see things that others can't, and it may make you a little unhinged, but it doesn't make you inhuman. There's still a person in there.

I would argue that the distancing from Paul starts in these shots:

This is still a close-up; we are not much further away from Paul than in the shot above, but the vibe is totally different. Now we are seeing him the way his followers do, closed-off and purposefully intimidating. We are seeing the image he chooses to present to the world and none of the human vulnerability underneath.

We stay at this emotional and visual distance from him for most of the rest of the movie--but not the whole thing. Because after watching Paul be a terrifying force of destruction for half an hour, we get slammed into remembering he is a person--young, hurt, alone; a person who didn't want any of this--at the very end of the movie.

I think you could make an argument for a few different shots being the first Villeneuve Close-Up of the end of the movie. But where I always notice it is here, when the Emperor is talking about Leto.

While not a particularly close close-up, I'm always struck by this shot as well:

And then we really get pulled in close to Paul during the duel--particularly at the end of the duel when he's already wounded and it seems like he might lose. We get this angle several times:

We get this shot that I'm particularly feral about...

...because while the focus of this shot is (1) the knife and (2) Feyd, someone made sure that the features you notice on Paul's face are his eyelashes and the curls of hair falling in his face, the features that make him look most soft and vulnerable.

And then of course after Paul has won the duel we get this shot, another peak Villeneuve Close-Up (TM) that I have already written about, where Paul is surrounded by people chanting his name but no one to pull the knife out of his shoulder for him.

And we hold onto that connection with Paul right up through "Lead them to paradise."

Which is an insane choice for that moment actually! Once again, this is not a super close close-up, but we're watching him from a perspective that no other character can see and we understand that there's no personal triumph in this moment for him.

Now, obviously, there are a lot of other choices being made in these scenes, in terms of writing, performance, lighting, score, everything. The camera placement is just one element supporting the overall storytelling. But it's one that's very easy to track through screenshots and a good example of how one specific element of filmmaking can be used to influence how we see a character, whether or not we even consciously notice it while immersed in the film.

[originalaccountname]

Finally caved and did my perceived timeline of what happened to Chuuya, from being brought into the lab for project Arahabaki to being taken out of it.

I originally thought about mentioning it in my Chuuya's true original ability being to amplify others' abilities post, but it was way too long, and not as solid an argument to that specific topic.

Because this is about Chuuya being the original, not the clone, but more importantly the why and how that is the case.

Chuuya's humanity is the core question of SB, and the most important part is that in the end, Chuuya chose to accept himself despite it all, and that no matter what, he is himself and no one can take that away from him.

But once we have been given all the pieces of the puzzle, we can try connecting the dots and deduce the true story behind it all.

-

Project Arahabaki was built to create an ability weapon based on the recovered notes of Pan, a French researcher and Verlaine's creator. The technique uses the clone of a human with a "fake" psyche (persona model) who is fused with a singularity life-form. The clone's original should have an ability able to create a self-referencing singularity (to manifest gravity powers). Pan even had a special ability metal to brainwash that individual. Basically, this concept is supposed to create an overpowered flesh puppet.

So. Project Arahabaki. They needed an original with an ability that could produce a singularity on its own, which is super rare. Joy oh joy, there just so happen to be this boy, the son of a military doctor, who fits these needs! They just need his DNA/some cells to create a clone to use in their project. It's the middle of the war, ethics are disregarded, plus no "real child" should be harmed in the making of this weapon. No biggie, right? Lend us your son for the sake of the country!

Except we know that boy, officially at least, died during the war.

According to N's timeline, there once was this certain boy who managed to create a singularity with his ability while under the supervision of scientists, but got swallowed by the black hole it created, never to return.

He also had Chuuya's supposed "original" stuck in a tube full of mystery liquid, the same kind Chuuya once was in, but that one's flesh and organs melted when exposed to air (normal behaviour), changing it into a skeleton that can be ordered around like an overpowered puppet (literally on strings. The tubes in its back controlled it and kept it going, but would severely limit its range)

Back to our Chuuya:

All N does is lie, so we can't take his word as the simple truth. Chuuya was a miracle they never managed to reproduce. Why is that?

In Rimbaud's notes, he says how in their operation to retrieve the new ability weapon Japan was developing (based on Verlaine), they managed to identify the artificial being, aka the clone, A2-5-8. In the flashback, Rimbaud is absolutely positive it is him, so we have to assume this information was recorded as-is somewhere.

And yet, Dazai is the one to suggest later that, perhaps, the original and the clone had been swapped.

And wouldn't that make everything else make sense?

The clone(s) never managed to hold up to the quality standard necessary to be useful outside of their confines. The skeleton approach was the lab trying something different, like N admitted so to Verlaine. There ever only was one successful attempt, a "miracle", Chuuya. The original child is thought to be dead, yet N the liar supposedly had him in a tube, ready to turn him into a skeleton(???). Rimbaud and Verlaine thought for sure they had the artificial life-form, the clone, but they got Chuuya, who has a graphite scar from before he lost his memories, with a past that was able to be dug up by the Flags and Port Mafia.

My conclusion is this: N swapped out a clone for the original child. His research wasn't giving the proper results, but he had found a workaround, where he could use the original instead of his clone, for better/faster results.

Chuuya is the only one who could harness "Arahabaki" in any way that would remotely resemble "Guivre". Chuuya is the only one who could operate autonomously. That's why N wanted to remove "Arahabaki" and try to factory-reset Chuuya before putting it back in: because there really is only one of him, and he couldn't afford losing him if he wanted to continue his research.

[leavemebetosleep]

do you have any good fluttercord fic recs?

OH BOY DO I. In no particular order (except of when I thought of them):

1: Non-Entity by Captain Wuzz: An AU in which, instead of being turned to stone, Discord was shot in the head with a magic arrow that takes away his sentience and magic for a 1,000 years. Fluttershy mistakes him for a wounded animal and brings him home. I loved it so much.

2: Chaotic Neutral by C-Puff: The magic is starting to fade from Equestria, and the Main 6 and Discord go on an adventure to find out why, and reverse it. A bit of AU, in the sense it was written before the show was done, so it diverts in some places because of that. Super sweet, and I love the character development here.

3: Time is Taller than Space is Wide by Dott. Can also be read on Ao3 if you prefer. Soulmate AU (?) fic with a Groundhog Day style twist. I rarely see fics play with the idea of what if Fluttershy and Discord's friendship had started when they first met, so this is fun.

4 & 5: Blank and it's sequel Reconnection by @geekcat. Can also be read on fanfic.net. AU in which, before Discord can choose friendship over ruling Equestria, Twilight remembers a "reformation" spell. He is stripped of his free will, and Fluttershy does her best to bring him back. If you don't like the idea of Twilight being a villain, you might not like this one, but I think her villain arc in this is done in a perfect way for her character. It's super heart wrenching in many places, but in a good way.

6: Our Fair Lady of the Chaos Lord, also by GeekCat Can also be read on fanfic.net. Fairy tale inspired AU in which Fluttershy is a princess who's father is pressuring her to marry noble knight Sir Big Mac. Wanting to be sure he's a good person, she makes a deal with the Chaos Lord, letting herself be "kidnapped" so she can test his character. You can guess who she falls for instead. Honestly I've enjoyed all of GeekCat's fics, so they're getting an extra mention. Check out the rest of their fluttercord fics if you like any of these.

7: The Draconequus with the Dragon Tattoo by A M Shark This is a major case of, strange premise, kick ass results. Basically an AU based off Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Steig Larsson, with Discord as Lisbeth, and Fluttershy as an amalgamation of Mikael and several other characters, but focusing more on the murder mystery aspect of that book, and less on the...everything else. If you're familiar with GwtDT, don't worry, there's no rape scenes. Again, it's more about the murder mystery part. If you're not familiar with GwtDT, then don't worry again, because you don't need to know the original to enjoy it. It's just Discord and Fluttershy playing detective and solving a murder together. It has two sequels, but I haven't read them yet, and it didn't feel right to rec something I haven't read.

8: The Corpse Bride by Bad Horse. Dark fic. No relation to the Burton movie. Fluttershy dies in a tragic accident, and Discord brings her back from the dead as his zombie wife. Her friends (sans Pinkie) are horrified. Has a fantastic twist ending. If you like some of the darker stuff, def worth a read.

Bonus: Comic rec: The Last Adventure by Eveeka. Taking place after the final defeat of Tirek, Cozy, and Chrysalis, Discord gets into a depressive funk after shouldering the hatred from Ponyville citizens for his latest actions, but also because his friends seem to never be available anymore. He starts to think maybe Equestria would be better off without him, as he can't seem to exist with out making everyone miserable, and decides to hide away in the Everfree forest. Fluttershy, worried when he doesn't show up for tea, asks her friends for help, only to discover there's a monster running lose there he and the rest of Equestria might be in danger from. This fic has two endings, so keep reading even when it seems like it's over. You've got one more ending left. This one nearly made me cry.

[ananxiousgenz]

pssst. pssssssst. hey guys. look at what i got y'all (IT'S MORE JARTHUR COWBOY AU)

this one comes with several pieces of info you need to know first:

@percymawce-arts and I are writing this fic together!!! we have entered into writers matrimony for this fic and we are super excited about it!! I wrote the bare bones of the scene you're about to read and he added almost all of the flavor and spice (while i was laying on my bed in the family guy dead pose bc of how good he made it). make sure to go show percy some love for this too!!

this scene takes place after one where john and arthur chase after larson, but arthur refuses to shoot him, and john is more than a little pissed off about it.

and some trigger warnings: this scene contains some fighting (both verbal and physical), child abuse, religious trauma, homophobia, and some suggestive themes

and finally, i will tag @ellamenop and @izel-reblogs bc i have a feeling you will both enjoy this :)

“What,” John snarled, slamming the cabin door shut behind him, “the fuck. What was that?!”

“None of your business,” Arthur replied, ever so prim and fucking proper. He kept his back to John, maybe to hide his face, so John couldn’t read him. Maybe because he was too much of a coward to meet John’s eyes after that stunt. John didn’t care what the reason was. It was only pissing him off more.

“No. Fuck that. It's all my business.”

“I didn't fire a gun. How is that making you upset?”

“You had him right in front of you,” John rumbled, his voice as low and dangerous as thunder on the horizon. Arthur shivered. “And you let him go. You had the opportunity to kill him. To end this, all of this. And you let it slip through your fucking fingers.”

“Maybe I didn't want to kill him.”

“What the fuck does that matter? He's too goddamn dangerous to be left alive!”

“It's not that simple, John-”

“The hell it is! I’m sorry you feel conflicted or whatever it is that’s going on in that head of yours, but this isn’t about you! All you had to do was fire the fucking gun. He was right in front of you, and you didn't shoot!”

“No, I didn't!”

“Why?!”

“You want to know why?” Arthur shouted, whipping around to face John, at last. “Because I can't kill another person! Even someone as awful as Larson! I’m not like you! This isn’t easy for me, alright?!”

As soon as the words had left his mouth, Arthur’s face fell. John could see the regret wash over his face like a cloud over the burning sun, but it only lasted a moment before he was collecting himself. Putting on that same mask of polite-until-you-fuck-with-me he always wore around suspects and targets. John had never had that face turned on him before. He hated it.

“So that’s what this is about,” John murmured, his tone dark. “You think it’s easy… You think I’m a monster, and you’d rather let Larson go free than be like me.”

“No, John, that’s not-”

 “Who do you think made me that way?” John snapped. Arthur’s mouth closed so fast John heard his teeth click. “It was him, Arthur. It was Larson. And thanks to you, he’s going to go and do it to another lonely, scared Native kid with nowhere else to go!” John chuckled humorlessly. “Christ, Arthur, If that’s what you thought of me, why didn’t you just say it at the start?”

Arthur threw up his hands in frustration. “That’s not what I think of you, John. Jesus, am I not allowed to have a minor moral crisis over shooting a man?!”

“He’s not just a man! He’s a gangster! A robber! A killer! You told me so yourself!”

“So are you, John.”

“Yeah, and you shot me for it,” John reminded him. 

Arthur growled and slammed his fist down on the mantle of the fireplace beside them, hard enough that John could feel the vibration travel through the floor. “Jesus fucking Christ, John, I wanted to let the law deal with him! Is that so hard to understand?!”

John took a step in Arthur’s direction. “Oh yeah? The same law that ripped me away from my family and home? The same law that turned me into a monster? Too little and too much for everyone all at the same time? The same law that drove human beings off of their lands and into reservations? That killed thousands of people like me?”

“The criminal law would have placed Larson in jail. Like he deserved.”

John scoffed and crossed his arms. “You think the law cares that he deserves it, Arthur? The law is punishment for those who don’t deserve it and ignorance for those who do. There’s no justice in it.”

“What, so that means it’s your job to deal it out?”

“Yes!” John yelled. “If it means he can’t hurt anyone any longer, then yes. And vigilante justice works a hell of a lot faster than the court system will ever manage!”

“I thought you were trying to be a better man, John.”

“I was trying to be like you,” John said venomously. “My mistake.”

That was the final straw. Arthur took a step forward without warning and swung his fist as hard as he could. It made contact with John’s ribs (he could feel them shift beneath Arthur’s fist), and John made a soft oof sound as the wind was knocked out of his lungs and he was knocked into the fireplace mantle, the corner of it digging into his shoulder. 

The fight that followed was chaotic and messy in a way John had never experienced before, and when he tried to think back to it, it would only be preserved in blurry snapshots, like someone moving in the middle of a photograph. Arthur grabbed John’s braid and pulled. John clawed a deep gouge into his arm. He drew blood. Arthur twisted John’s arm. John cracked Arthur’s rib. Arthur knocked John’s legs out from under him, causing them both to go sprawling onto the floor. Arthur punched. John slapped. Arthur bit. John pinned. And then paused. And then…

In the midst of the fighting, John had ended up on top of Arthur, straddling his waist while pinning both wrists with one hand and grabbing a fistfull of Arthur’s shirt with the other. Both of them had frozen, the only movement the rapid rise and fall of their chests. Their noses were nearly touching, and John could feel Arthur’s breath fanning across his lips, staring into those dark, dark eyes. They weren’t so dark, John realized as he looked into them. They were brown, lovely and warm, with scattered flecks of gold and green nestled deep inside. Hidden gems, wide and wild with adrenaline, flicking back and forth across John’s face without any point of focus.

John’s eyes flicked over the rest of Arthur’s face. Freckles smattered across his nose and cheekbones. Loose strands of auburn hair falling messily across his forehead. The crooked corners of his nose from being broken one too many times. Smile lines beside his tired eyes. Lips like flower petals, soft and pale. Slightly parted and inhaling, exhaling. At some point, John realized he had let go of Arthur’s shirt and was cradling Arthur’s face oh-so gently as he examined it, dragging his thumb lightly over his cheekbone, caressing it. Down the bridge of his nose to his lips, his perfect lips. Arthur remained as still as stone, barely even breathing as he stared blindly back at John.

Somewhere behind the haze of the moment, John wondered subconsciously what would happen if he kissed Arthur. Because, the truth, he realized, was that deep down, in the pit of his stomach, he wanted. He wanted Arthur, in a way he had never wanted anyone else before. He wanted to be close to him, close like this. Closer than this. To be around him always, to hold him, to kiss him. 

What would happen if he took what he wanted instead of what he was told, for once?

He hesitated when he heard Arthur’s breath hitch.But then, when no resistance came, he leaned his head down ever so slightly (there was barely any bridge to gap, by that point), and then he was kissing Arthur. And it was like the world had been set ablaze.

As he pressed his lips against Arthur’s, every nerve in John’s body was alive. It felt like a jolt from a live wire, like a burst of fireworks that would light up the sky on the Fourth of July, like the sparking tang of gunpowder before the shot rang out. It felt like energy, pure and bright and hot and lighting him up from the inside. He felt Arthur’s body respond in kind, arching up to create a line of contact that started at their hands and continued all the way down to their tangled legs, making John shiver. He tasted like whiskey, sweet and sharp beneath the campfire smoke and aftershave, and John marveled at how such a strange and sinful combination could taste like it had just come down from heaven.

He kissed harder, chasing the taste. He nipped at Arthur’s lip hard enough to draw blood, adding a coppery tang to the kiss and eliciting a small moan from the back of Arthur’s throat. It only made John want more. He kissed him again, and again, and again, Arthur’s lips and tongue moving against his with a practiced skill that made John dizzy. He kissed him until his lips were swollen and his head was swimming with nothing but Arthur, Arthur, Arthur. He only pulled away when his chest was burning and there was no choice but to come up for air.

Arthur’s face was flushed, his eyes wide and twinkling. “Oh God.” His voice was hoarse. “Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, John.”

And an unbidden memory surfaced in John’s mind. 

He was back in boarding school, sitting for a mandatory midnight mass in the chapel, his posture ramrod straight. The priests had always been so particular about those masses. There was to be no slouching or fidgeting, and God alone could help you if you dozed off. John had been kneeing in one of the pews, focusing all of his attention on keeping his posture perfect and his eyes open and remaining somewhat alert. 

In the midst of silent prayer, one of the priests, a Father McKenna, had thrown open the doors to the chapel, and dragged another boy up before the altar by his ear. 

The boy had tears streaming down his disheveled face and his nose was red from crying, but the thing that struck John the most about him were his eyes. He just looked so… tired. Not the kind of tired that John was fighting, the kind where a seductive sleep was lingering at the corners of his vision, waiting for him to blink or close his eyes in “prayer” for a second too long. This boy looked like the kind of tired that shot through his bones and grew like rot and rust with every passing day, the kind that only shuffling off this mortal coil a bit too soon could cure.

Father McKenna said the boy had been caught ‘with’ another, with a fury in his eyes that made John wonder in the back of his mind if he had been possessed by the devil. He’d been too young to know what it meant to be ‘with’ another boy at the time, but he knew it must be evil. Father McKenna threw him down in front of the altar, and the boy- John vaguely recognized him to be a child named Alexander- just knelt with his head bowed, like he had accepted his fate before Fate came to dole it out.

Father McKenna was not pleased by this. He smacked the back of Alexander’s head. Hard. He didn’t respond. He picked up a hymnal and smacked him harder still. And still, nothing. 

The priest was trembling with barely concealed fury now, and there was a steady pit of dread opening up in John’s stomach as he began to eye the doors, the windows. Any potential escape from the devil and the punishment that awaited him.

But there was no escape, there never was. So John sat, quietly, and watched as Father McKenna began to beat Alexander.

It was horrible, but somehow John couldn’t tear his eyes away, not even as Alexander’s screams tore through his ears and began to echo off the vaulted ceilings, pleas to stop and promises to never do it again ringing in John’s mind. Not even as the boy’s blood began to stain Father McKenna’s hands and drip onto the marble stairs, as vivid and crimson as sacramental wine. Not even as two of the altar boys had to drag Alexander’s barely conscious, barely breathing body down the aisle and out to the hospital wing.

John was trembling by the end of it. He felt like he was going to throw up. He dreamed of that moment for weeks afterward, never able to sleep without witnessing another religious sacrifice, another crucifixion, another martyr behind his eyelids.

Suddenly back in the present– but not really, never fully out of the past– John scrambled back off of Arthur and pressed his back against a wall, wide-eyed and sweating in sudden, sickening fear. In another life he might have missed the feeling of Arthur beneath him, his waist between his thighs, his lips against his. But nothing could permeate that fear. Nothing would ever be bigger than the fear.

“Wha– John?” Arthur asked. There was fear in his eyes too, but it was different. It wasn’t fear of hell or Father McKenna or whatever had become of Alexander. It was fear for John. It was concern. John closed his eyes against it. “John, what’s wrong? What–,” “Shut up.”

“What?”

“Just, be quiet!” John snapped. “Please, please, just–,” his voice broke. He squeezed the bridge of his nose between his fingers, trying to stave off an oncoming headache. 

“Okay…” Arthur said, quietly. Gently, so cruelly gentle. John could feel the beginnings of tears burning behind his eyes. He squeezed them shut tighter. “Okay.”

“This…” John started. He didn’t want to say it. He knew there would be no coming back from it. No more fireworks, no more whiskey on flower petal lips. Never again would he be so close to Arthur Lester if he said it. But that was the point wasn’t it? Make distance.

Take what he was told, never what he wanted.

“This was a mistake,” John said, firmly. A lie, of course. Inside, his very soul was shaking. The strings of his heart were trembling in a tragic vibrato, a song with no recipient. But he’d always been good at lying. He stood, tossing his braid over his shoulder and brushing the dust of his shirt (his wrinkled shirt, stained with a speck of Arthur’s blood). “It never happened.” He didn’t look at Arthur, because he was a coward. He was everything Arthur thought he was, so he didn’t look him in the eye when he said:

“If you ever so much as mention this, to anyone, I won’t hesitate, Arthur.”

He opened the door to the cabin, ready to step outside, leaving everything he’d never known he’d wanted behind. 

“I’m not you.”

[wirewitchviolet]

It is absolutely ridiculous that I have no way to contact people I care about in 2023.

So I got up today, and saw a big announcement about a certain particularly large company in the games industry did an absolutely massive round of layoffs despite an amazingly good year. You know, as they do. As it so happens, this is a company that, last I checked, employs several people I consider to be pretty good friends, and I feel compelled to toss them a quick message asking if that affected them, ask if poke around on their behalf for freelance work or slap a project of my own real quick they can collaborate on, or whatever.

And it's suddenly sinking in to me that I can't actually do that.

Tabletop game work is writing work, and that means 90% of the networking for most of the past decade or so happened over Twitter. Someone announces they're working on a thing, you message them, e-mails get traded to formally send stuff around. I was on there until I wasn't, so normally, that'd be where I'd be doing my checking in. But that of course is off the table. And like, I don't even have read-access to the site to check if anyone's announcing anything there.

Well, we've traded e-mails, right? We absolutely have. Back when everyone I'm worried about was at this other company, which let this same pile of people I care about and then some go several years ago now. So... those e-mails are no longer valid.

Well, what else is there? Oh right, the one friend has a discord server. It's been super dead for years now since he stopped doing the big weekly social thing it was there for, but it's still - oh, no. It's actually closed out. Same with the one for this freelance artist in that same general orbit... and oh Discord redid usernames and forced everyone to pick new ones. Damn.

Well, there's tumblr here, maybe? Like, there isn't really practically any direct messaging on here but... no, no wait, none of them have posted anything on here since bad policies drove a bunch of people out years back.

There's Facebook? But no, I don't have an account, they're all real legal name focused, and for personal security reasons, I never actually use my legal name anywhere even if I could make one (see, they also insist my name "sounds fake" over at Facebook). Well surely I can just find people's personal websites and send an e-mail but... no, people just don't have personal e-mails anymore, and spam got so bad decades ago now that I can't remember the last time I saw ANYONE post a personal e-mail address anywhere visible. Used to be phonebooks, but I don't think they really adapted to everyone just having a cellphone, and even if they did, they're a local thing.

So yeah. I've got nothing here. Uh... on the off chance anyone's reading this who I'm concerned about, hey, I hope you're OK? I'm still at least periodically checking the e-mails you last used to send things to me? Feel free to reach out and let me know how things are going?

But yeah this just sucks.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

I think for all the discussions we have of "everyone hears the jokes and the piano; after that, they stop listening" surrounding Louis, we tend to still simplify his connection to the piano.

Yes, it's very cute that he sings Clementine a little song when they first meet, and it's very cute that he plays a little prank on her while "tuning" the piano. It's super cute that they carve their initials into the piano and Clementine carves a heart around them. It's mega cute that he names his song he wrote after her when she confesses her feelings. Louis playing Don't Be Afraid at the party is, in my opinion, one of the best moments in all of TFS.

But here's the thing: That piano is Louis' heart.

I don't mean to go all metaphorical on you, but I'm dead serious—the piano is Louis' heart, and when you think about his arc and his romance route with that in mind...?

That piano is his one comfort in a world where the dead walk. It's been with him from the beginning of the outbreak. We know from his backstory that Louis wanted to take singing lessons so he could be a real musician, and his father denying him of that was what set him off to be a "vindictive fuckhead." Louis never got those singing lessons, and it's a very real possibility that Louis taught himself how to play.

Sure, others could've taught him; we know Minerva was musically talented, perhaps she showed him a thing or two. But learning piano, or any instrument, is brutal even with professional guidance. It takes hours of practice until numbness wears fingertips raw; dedication to memorize every key and finger placement to make music pleasing to the ear; self-discipline to keep going through every fumble, every failure, every single cruel thought of self-doubt; intelligence and a creative ear to write his own songs.

And yet, it's severely under-appreciated by everyone. It's annoying. It's distracting. It's unimportant. It's an excuse for Louis to mess around and not do any real work. He doesn't have any actual talent. The music and the piano are brushed off, unheard.

Yet, Louis keeps playing. He keeps singing. He keeps making jokes.

Creating music, the one thing he wanted so badly as a kid that he destroyed his parents marriage, was possibly the greatest comfort he had... a welcome distraction to disassociate from the horror and death happening around him.

It's bittersweet, like a purpling bruise that you can't stop pressing on; it hurts, but there's something else below the pain. The piano is out of tune and it's something that brings him joy... but will always act as a constant reminder of who he was and what he did, why he's at Ericson to begin with.

We first meet him while he's playing; Louis' heart is exposed, but is it really? Is he playing to his true potential? Louis hides behind the mask of a charming, charismatic goof. It's what is expected of him, so he plays a silly song intended to poke and prod at Clementine, to gauge a reaction. That's something we see him do at multiple points in episode one. In fact, we can consider a majority of episode one to be like the song he's playing when we meet him; it's mostly cheery or fast-paced.

Louis is able to soothe AJ with his "alluring" music after the kid bit Ruby is an indication that the two of them will share a bond. Louis is a natural at communicating and bonding with the younger kids [another talent that's overlooked] so it's interesting that he praises AJ for being a natural at piano, as well.

But the song stutters just a bit when Louis and Clementine are in the woods together, though; "There's only one guarantee: this moment. That's the only you got, only thing any of us got. Might as well enjoy it." ...Only for Louis to compose himself and send her away.

It's only when Clementine has a gun in her face, held by Marlon, that the music isn't fun anymore; it's rainfall and thunder and the words "I thought you were more than that" sung through the wind in a melody only Louis can hear.

Then Marlon's dead. The song is over, and reality has arrived.

I've talked at length about Louis in ep2 and his vote in the past. It's one of the most compelling things about Louis' arc and romantic route. It's a tragic mistake driven by trauma and guilt. It's people simultaneously telling him to shut up and telling him to be angrier than he is. Telling him to stop burying his head in the sand when he's never been more aware of everything happening. It's AJ peering up at him with pleading eyes that Louis can't stand to look at. It's Clementine wrapping his heartstrings around her fingers and tugging just enough to hurt, but not break.

Louis missed Clementine. He says as much when Clementine admits she missed him first. I don't even know where to begin with that! I can think of no other way to describe it other than they are half agony, half hope over this... and if you get that reference, you get a gold star. I just- the ache, the tension, the conflicting feelings of finally having a quiet moment to talk but Louis not being ready yet.

Y'know how someone carved "you suck at playing" in the side of the piano? It's something you might not initially notice while playing the game, just as Louis' insecurities aren't apparent at first.. but they're carved in him; never fully healed, still scabbed and bleeding... Until Clementine offers him a bandage.

She won't clean the wound for him, but she'll be there. She'll help him figure out how to do it himself so he can heal. She'll listen to him, not belittle his feelings or pain. She'll make an effort to know his keys and notes and practice playing his song until she understands.

When Clementine chooses him to spend time with him, it's a mirror of their first time meeting... but this time, Louis plays something real: a song he wrote, one that I believe he crafted during the two week time skip... a song he wrote with Clementine on his mind, for better or worse.

If the piano is Louis' heart, he literally asks her to sit there and try to tune it, which ends up being a joke but I say she's already tuned your heart, my guy. It's there before them, changed in the warm candlelight. He plays for her and opens up about how no one actually listens, but Clementine did.

And remember, this is the night of the raid. They don't know it's coming, but they know it'll be soon. Louis understands that he could very well die, so what does he do? He carves his initial into the one thing he's always had, and he asks Clementine to do the same.

I'm sorry, how are we NOT more feral about this? Prior to this scene, the only thing we see carved into the piano, into Louis' heart, is an insult. This thing that Louis cares so deeply about, this instrument that's become so intertwined with who he is... he wants to leave his mark on it just in case he dies. A reminder that it was his and he belonged to it just as much. Something so important, and he asks Clementine to carve herself into his heart where no matter what, they will be immortalized together in this moment.

And when Clementine carves a heart around their initials? Yes, his reaction is very cute and that's great... but she's not ashamed of him, or her feelings for him. She wants everyone who looks upon his heart to know that. She tells him how she feels and Louis is so giddy, and warm, and he names the song after her and I am going to start biting anything that moves, I can't-

Oh, and let's discuss the party scene in episode three, shall we? Y'know, where the heart covered initials are on full display? Where Louis tells the story of why he was sent to Ericson to everyone?

Louis is so... vulnerable. Sincere. Ashamed of what he did. This is the exposed nerve, the one he was so afraid of showing Clementine but there it is... and she doesn't reject him. Sure, she can say it's fucked up if you choose to, but she doesn't break up with him over it.

Also the fact that everyone sitting around him finally listens when he's at his most unshielded only for Tenn to ask him to play Don't Be Afraid for them after...? How do you not see the connection? Are you trying to make me cry? In that moment, Louis' heart was heard and appreciated and beautiful and strong and-

Listen. I am fine. I'm so normal about this. And fine. I'm fine.

But I also have to add that during the walk in episode four, if you let Louis choose what to add to the imaginary house, he picks a brand new piano because he wants a new heart to reflect the confidence and growth Clementine helped him achieve and because he loves her and AJ so much that wants the new heart to not just be his but also theirs and I am so fine with this, okay.

[galactic-rhea]

I love your empress padme au, they should be evil and unhinged. I'm misly curious as to what the kiddos are up to, (and some of the other characters, I imagen they're mostly side eyeing anidalla like "wtf is happining over there???") Anyways I kind of love the consept of "evil chaos family fun"

Neither of them are stay at home parents but the imagen of vaderkin in a frilly apron trying SO hard to cook for his family has popped into my head and will not leave

Vader should get a cloak wich has "property of Padme" embrodered on the back

dfkjgnkjngfdjk thank you, Padmé would ask him to cook with an appron and nothing else

About the question, well! Just yesterday someone asked in the comments about the twins too! And well, you see, I'm undecided! This will get long!

See, when I originally envisioned the empress Padmé AU, what I had on mind is that Padmé spent about 5-6-7 years with the rebels, and that's why we have Vader as...as we known him, you know, almost-classic Vader. Unknown to the rebeels that Padmé's goal was sliiiiiightly different as theirs. She would have the twins (or at least, known where they're being hidden, and visint them and everything) and her goal would be to reunite her family, she's a bit obssesed with having her family fully and complete.

But! The idea that, for example, after having the twins she was unconscious for several days or something, and it was decided that hidding the twins was the better choice and told her they died it's so very tasty and angsty! Vader and Padmé would be EVEN MORE codependant and messed up out of the grief (also THE GUILT Vader feels about thinking he caused their kids death as he sees Padmé so distraguth?!!!! He wants to constantly kill himself, he probably wants Padmé to kill him, tasty angst) If she believes her twins to be dead, then she believes she only has her husband, and she's very overprotective of him (and possesive, a lot).

And then you would have the plot following slightly similar to the movies, but now the twins have to redeem BOTH of their parents who are kinda enabling each other so hjhbdgdfsf

(Either Leia wasn't given to Bail and Breha because...come on, or I'll have to invent a super duper and convenient explanation)

Also @squad-724 suggested the idea of Padmé and Vader somehow sort of bringing Ahsoka (inquisitor ahsoka, wahoo!) into this and now I won't stop thinking about it (unconsciously) having Ahsoka as their stand-in-daugther because they lost their twins. Messed up, messed up and all these conflicting feelings guys!!!!

BUT! On the other hand, Imperial twins raised by both EVIL PARENTS is super fun, like, this poor galaxy can't catch a breath. Because my Vader raises the twins AU have them being double agents with Vader trying hard to cover them up so the emperor won't kill them. But here it probably makes them less likely to turn against their parents! However, 5-6 years being raised among rebels, and then being raised in the imperial palace and becoming prince and princess and at the very least knowing your mom kinda betrayed the rebels is probably enough to give you suspicion and "huh,,,this is kinda bad? Maybe"

For Padmé and Vader though, I think it would bring a very devoted and angry protectiveness for both Padmé and Vader; they aren't that invested in the empire and power tbh, they just want to have their Little House On The Prairie fantasy with a family fully complete and safe, at all costs. It would make them even more of a team and less weaknesses. Though, I once kinda as a joke just imagined Padmé getting tired of all of it and going "ah whatevery, let the galaxy burn by itself while we ran a way somewhere" and that's it because seriously Padmé wanted to actually give up on all the work, no big redemption or big epic dramatic moment, the imperial family just disappeared one night and no one knows what happened (surely they were murdered?) when they're just chilling in some super random and secret corner of the galaxy doing, idk, the most boring thing ever, farming. Luke and Leia get bored and become spice smugglers . The end.

For the last question, though, I think half of the people think Padmé is a victim of this terrible situation somehow (oh noooo, she was kidnapped by that monster, who knows what she's enduring, or she's being mind-controlled :( ), that she's some sort of puppet empress while Vader actually makes all the choices because,,,come on, that was the emperor's second hand right there. The other half of the people remember Padmé was a bit of a political apprentice for Palpatine, and they're also both from Naboo, and it was also thanks to her Palpatine became the Chancellor, maybe she did want power from the start, maybe Naboo is fucked up, never let politicans from Naboo have power again.

And then there's the third secret thing, which is only a very limited number of people like Obi-Wan and Bail (and Padmé and Vader's palace staff lol), that are fully side-eyeing her.

There's also the problem that since she actually worked with the rebels, she,,,knows a lot, she probably knows almost all the names of the rebels' leaders, she probably knows there's a underground society helping jedi run and to which planets. She knows so much, and yet she doesn't actively chase them (or more like, she doesn't actively send Vader to chase them), and if she does send her husband, which is rarely since she wants him to stay where she can see him (remember when I said obssesive and possesive and overprotective?), she's probably doesn't tell him that much info because it's entertaining, giant galactic chess game, lmao.

Also, her empire isn't half as awful as Palpatine's, like, it's still very bad but it's leagues better and she does probably finally forces the good charity projects she never could as a senator, and well, complacency it's extremelly dangerous for freedom. So there's that.

[lightandfellowship]

An aspect of Hoder's death that I find pretty compelling outside of just the effect her death had on the cast + the events of the game is the fact that her brother and friends seem to just be guessing at what she would have wanted or what she would have done in their shoes. And quite possibly guessing incorrectly. Which highlights one of the many tragic elements of death apart from the death itself: the dead not being able to speak for themselves.

Vidar turns to Kingdom Hearts because it might save Hoder's brother and he thinks that's what she would want. After all, her brother is someone precious to her who she's willing to protect with her life, as she demonstrated in Enchanted Dominion when she sacrificed herself to save him. But saving her brother via Kingdom Hearts means potentially harming the worlds, their residents, and the entire universe in general, and considering Hoder chose to confront a super powerful fairy all by herself to try and save Aurora, a random stranger she had only just met, endangering innocents for personal reasons sounds like the kind of thing she might seriously disapprove of. But it seems like Vidar, Vala, and Vali never considered that possibility, assuming that it was just a given that Hoder would risk the entire world for her brother.

And while Baldr's motivations are kinda complex and can be interpreted in a number of ways, it wouldn't susprise me if part of the reason why he wanted to purge the world and kill the upperclassmen was for the sake of getting revenge on Hoder's behalf. We know he blames the upperclassmen for not saving her, and it was the evil of the world that drew Hoder to the castle and got her killed in the first place. (There's also the element of "Baldr blames himself for her death but he can't handle the guilt so he's going to blame everyone else instead as a coping mechanism.") Once again, someone close to Hoder is risking the lives of countless others for her sake, ostensibly (though I'm sure Baldr is just telling himself that he's doing it for her when really he's mostly doing it for himself, unleashing his grief and wrath upon the world that wronged him.) And it's not just strangers at risk this time, her friends are getting killed one by one, all because her brother thought they deserved it for failing to save her. I don't think it's a stretch to say that Hoder didn't blame her friends at all for what happened to her and had no interest in getting "revenge" on them.

What makes Hoder's situation interesting/unique though is that she technically does get several opportunities to speak for herself after she dies, unlike most characters who die suddenly and prematurely. Once in the Underworld after her spirit gets temporarily brought back to meet with Xehanort and Eraqus, and several times after that when she's hiding in Xehanort's heart. But for most of these scenes she chooses not to speak, and when she does finally reveal herself and speak, it's during a scene where all of her dialog was potentially just a ruse to get closer to Baldr in order to take him out, and thus it's hard to say exactly how genuine her words were. Even when given the rare and precious opportunity to express her true feelings and desires post-death, she remains quiet, or chooses to speak but potentially with ulterior motives. Which actually fits how she acted in life as well. So maybe dying was never the problem, maybe part of her tragedy is that she never would have made her feelings clear even if she were alive. Which I think is a pretty interesting character trait for her, a character who values actions over words, a character who doesn't seem to be too concerned about explaining herself or being understood by others, a character who would rather just take matters into her own hands instead of clarifying her wishes to others who could act on her behalf...and the tragic accidents + miscommunication that occurs because of those secretive, proactive, and independent aspects of her personality.

Anyway, I have to imagine she kinda resents seeing her loved ones do these really terrible things in her name. Especially since she probably thought that her sacrifice was going to be the only one, no blood on her hands except for her own, only for that death to cause ten others. And as I've seen other people speculate, this probably contributed to her choice at the end to intervene. All of this tragedy happened because of her, because of her reckless actions and because of her friends and brother's love for her, and she needed to take responsibility for it.

"Dying was the worst decision I ever made." <- Hoder, probably

[xjulixred45x]

Can you headcanon of Mark Grayson/Invincible x Scarlet Witch fem reader from Marvel; she is serene, and kind-hearted please?

Awww yes of course! Thanks for the Request!

(SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY😭🫠 HOPE THIS IS OKAY)

Mark Grayson/Invincible x Scarlet Witch! Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: female

Warnings: Spoilers from INVINCIBLE most recent season AND Wanda's Maximoff past(MCU), typical violence, Reader is good but has some heavy trauma, PTSD from both parts, comfort, fluff.

THEY= HYDRA

The life of a reader was quite complicated, even before the powers came into her life.

Living in a poor country, with a poor family, you had to do everything humanly possible to survive.

The reader's parents were good people, hard-working, honest, but thanks to this they were not at home much, they had to feed TWO children after all.

Therefore, the reader spent much of the time with her twin brother, Pietro.

Everything seemed to be going right in their lives, she remembers it well...

It was a quiet day, at night, her parents had been able to buy a television and they were all going to sit in front to have dinner and watch it.

She felt so happy...

...and then the missile fell...

Everything was dark for a long time, until Pietro was able to wake up reader, under the rubble of the house.

Their parents, dead.

Their house destroyed.

And worst of all? The missile was still there... flickering, as if it were going to explode at any moment...

It was the worst week of the reader's life, but the really bad thing was yet to come.

when THEY came into their lives.

The reader doesn't remember their names well, it doesn't matter now, not after what they did.

They saved them, but in compensation they wanted to use them as test subjects, who would help them create "heroes"

and since they had no one else, they went with them.

and the process of obtaining powers...was much more painful and straight out of a nightmare than the reader could imagine.

but they did it.

They got powers.

Pietro super speed.

reader...could almost warp reality.

equal.

but they were powerful enough to flee from THEM and try to seek justice into their own hands.

They were going to go after whoever bombed their house.

That was when they officially met Invincible.

To be fair, there were already reports of some thief with inhuman speed who was stealing in several cities (curiously, mainly food and clothing...)

But this was the first time he had done something BAD like attacking a company and not only that, but he was accompanied.

And at first that was their dynamic, Mark would try to prevent the twins from destroying the weapons company and hurting people, he would receive a beating/lore drop and they would leave due to a tactical disadvantage.

Even if Mark is fast, he can't outrun Pietro or the reader portals.

Which, by the way, is the most difficult to fight.

Mark tries to reason with her when they are still "enemies" while they fight (or rather Mark throws blows and she redirects them with magic) and while he can see that it works, he knows that it is difficult to forgive that easily. especially when you don't have all the context.

Although, ironically despite the initial beatings, Mark ends up enjoying these almost weekly encounters with the twins, especially with reader.

Why? because she is precisely the one who kicks his ass the most.

Don't get me wrong, he doesn't underestimate Pietro, but several of the reader's tricks have definitely left him in trouble several times... more than he can count.

Apart from the fact that while they fight, they talk about anything, the reader gradually opens up to Mark and evolves from being totally hostile to being hostile, but enjoying the dynamics, feeling in CONTROL of the situation.

(Probably on some occasion the reader got into Mark's mind, saw all the trauma he went through, and from there she understood him a little more, she was more understanding as she no longer only saw him as a hero)

apart from that Mark realizes several things.

one, that reader and her brother really don't want to hurt people, two, that they are exclusively going after a specific company, and three, reader is holding back on him.

She dosen't want to hurt ANYONE. None of them want to.

Mark realizes that they really aren't bad people, they just have something to figure out, but he can't just let them hurt people.

..but he could help them if they would let him.

reader is undecided, while Pietro is VERY vocal about it being a BAD idea, since the last time they allied themselves with some organization it ended in a lot of pain.

and, well, Mark understands that VERY WELL.

but at least now they stop attacking weapons installations so brutally. It's progress!

I can definitely see Mark trying to approach the reader like civilians (for that matter, Wanda doesn't even wear a mask) and because they no longer need to fight to see each other, their relationship improves.

Pietro and Mark are still a little tense, but at least he no longer attacks Mark when he sees him😅

Mark tries to introduce the reader to things she might like that she hasn't had the chance to try.

Can you imagine that the reader ends up liking Science Dog? Mark is so confused (and secretly happy) why she likes something "for kids" (mark)':) and the reader would open up about how she couldn't even have those kinds of things as a child, so having the opportunity to reading them even as an adult makes her very happy (:

(It's like the equivalent of an adult buying a toy they couldn't have because their parents didn't have money).

Probably thanks to that, the reader has more predilection for things from science fiction, amusement parks, sweets, etc.

reader healing her inner child😭

and thanks to this, the reader is calmer, more serene, more mature.

now she has a life ahead of her without THEM or revenge on his mind, he can live.

Pietro may end up finding his way in his own way too. probably lending a hand with his speed when needed.

By the time the reader starts having a relationship with Mark, she and her brother probably become some kind of vigilante duo, no, they don't work for Cecil, but you could tell they try to do things right.

Mark also helps them out and defends them if their teammates get defensive.

reader definitely uses magic to do certain everyday tasks, including tidying up when she's at Mark's house. Who knows, she can even remodel if she wants😅

Probably thanks to this, Debbie really likes reader, not only because she is a charming young woman, but because she has a good influence on Mark and vice versa.

Reader and Pietro don't really go to school, so they probably study at home, Mark can give them a hand with their homework! Of course, in the topics in which he is not very VERY behind🤣

They both really enjoy the time they spend together in general. Whether it's reading comics, flying, even when they find themselves patrolling, it's enjoyable.

well, except for Pietro who is now condemned to be the third wheel🤣.

I can definitely see Mark giving some of his old toys to the reader as gifts instead of throwing them away like last season, since as much as she got excited about the comics, the toys left her CRYING. IN A GOOD WAY!!

A part of Mark's heart breaks a little thinking about all the trauma the reader went through for THAT to make her cry.

just like other things.

for example, I think Reader would HATE alarm clocks, especially the ones with flashing lights...

just like she has HUGE claustrophobia and fear of the dark.

Any of those things can cause either a slight tremor or a full-blown panic attack.

and that combined with powers does not end well at all.

Mark is the only one who can calm her down during these outbursts and come out alive😅 along with Pietro obviously.

Also despite the great difference in power between the two, Mark continues to be protective of the reader, not only because of his history of trauma, but also because he told her about the times in which she has been manipulated/used (e.g. THEM) and partly Thanks to the big heart of a reader, Mark is worried that she is a little naive/easy to fool.

although in general it is the reader who saves her skin in risky situations. whether finding it in another dimension, preventing buildings from collapsing while fighting someone, sending an enemy to another planet, etc.

he definitely finds her cute (and hot when things get bad, but this is sfw so).

When the Viltrumites come to Earth, you can bet these protective instincts rise TO A THOUSAND (reader will probably try to use magic on Mark's house so his enemies will have a hard time tracking him down).

Mark introducing the reader to Oliver and her doing magic tricks to entertain him ✨(Mark falls in love again lol)

In general, a couple that supports each other through the good and the bad. together .

(Pietro will forever be the third wheel though🤣)

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[kayluh1915]

psssst, disclaimer…

@swiftllama: *texts me with no context* EVERY BTS THEY GET GAYER AND GAYER

Me after watching said BTS:

It's Ianthony moment breakdown time, BBY!

I know I've been gone for a while but I've really been going through it, y'all. I want to post more from here on out, but I can't make any promises. Executive disfunction and ADHD paralysis sssuuuccckkkkssss.

Anyways, back to our regularly scheduled screamings!

Also, this is from a members only video. If you can, please support Ian and Anthony directly. I do not share content outside of small Ianthony moments like these.

The noise that came out of my mouth was not human in anyway, shape, or form! Anthony has carried Ian like this before, but it was before his departure. Back then they were really stiff and awkward with each other since their friendship was strained, as they have mentioned several times. Now they're super close and don't give a flying fuck and MY HEART CAN'T TAKE IT!

Sam has been keeping me up to date with everything and I just can't believe the timeline we're in. Everything else might be shit, but at least Ian and Anthony are back together and give us moments like these on the weekly! 😭They keep me sane.

ANYWAYS, I made some gifs of the moment because AHHHH and I'm going to break down the little moments that made my fandom heart flutter

Let's get to it!

Right off the bat, Ian very minorly freaks out when Anthony picks him up and immediately grips Anthony's arm. Logically, I know that anyone would grab onto the closest thing on instinct in this situation... but my Ianthony brain is screaming: "AWWW! ANTHONY MAKES HIM FEEL SAFE!!!!!!!"

Okay, my logic brain is calming down now because this gif just confirmed that Ian not only trusts Anthony whole heartedly but also FEELS SAFE! As soon as Anthony reassures him that he won't let him fall Ian relaxes and starts to let go of the death grip he has on Anthony's arm near the end of the gif.

Another demonstration of how much Ian trusts Anthony. He doesn't even flinch when he lifts him up and even has that face he makes that screams: "yeah yeah, we know Mr. Buff." after Anthony comments on how easy it is for him to hold Ian.

DUDE! The way Ian just goes limp after Anthony once again lets him know that he's got him. IT'S SO FUCKING CUTE and, again, is proof of how much he trusts him. He knows Anthony won't drop him and just decides to relax for a second, putting his full weight on Anthony's shoulders. I CANNOT! It's so intimate!!! Ian probably also took notes from Rhett's "I'm Dead" move he pulls on Link which I find hilarious.

Okay, this is my favorite one of this whole gifset. The way Anthony looks back at Ian to make sure he's still comfortable and then smiling to someone about it!?!? BRING AMBERLAMPS! MY HEART HAS STOPPED!

Damn, I needed these two in my life so badly right now. The fact that they pulled THIS SHIT just makes it so much better. I know they've said and done things more damning within the past few months, but I enjoy more intimate moments like these. Yeah, it's for a bit, but it shows just how much Anthony cares for Ian and how much Ian trusts him.

Lord have mercy, I need a nap after all of that. 😮‍💨

[impishtubist]

AU Wolfstarbucks - Sirius and Remus have been fucking each other during OotP as a source of comfort to ease their shared grief. Somehow, miraculously, James comes back from the dead but Remus can’t help but be dismayed knowing that he’s only been a stand-in for James.

Cue Remus being a little passive-aggressive, jealous wet noodle. Sirius still tries to initiate but Remus is super annoying and withdraws, convinced it’s only a matter of time before Sirius chooses James. While Sirius confronts Remus one night, James walks in and realizes Sirius and Remus are having an affair.

This interests James. Deeply. And he comes to a few more realizations of his own. And he makes a proposition to the two of them…

Yes I love this!!! I am already a big fan of Sirius and Remus starting to hook up for the first time during OOTP as a way to deal with grief/loneliness/the horrors. And then James comes back! And Remus is like "oh well of COURSE the two of them are going to get together, they've always been obsessed with each other" and pulls away, is passive-aggressive, etc. Sirius doesn't understand why Remus is pulling back from him! James walks in on their confrontation and has to become okay with several things REALLY quickly, lol: both of his best friends are interested in men, they both sleep with men, they have been sleeping with each other.

And after the shock of it wears off, James finds he can't stop thinking about it. He's...way more interested than he should be in his friends' sex life. He definitely starts looking at his friendship with Sirius in a new light, too, because they've always been inseparable. Maybe there was something more to it. Maybe...what they had wasn't a normal friendship and is something else altogether.

Anyway James overcomes a lot of internalized homophobia and discovers he likes men. He especially likes men who are his two best friends. He and Sirius start hooking up and then they bring Remus in as their precious princess who they love to fuck and spoil, the end.

[doubleslashkarma]

I've been having a lot of thoughts about Poafa recently, and I'm gonna try and condense it into something comprehensible so bear with me for a second.

Poafa is afraid of trust. He's said it many times, but on top of that, he's said that Zam is changing that. Why? Why is he so afraid of trusting people, and why is Zam's actions the singular thing that makes him reconsider his past several seasons of self-isolation?

Poafa has never had the privilege of being important. Which sounds really fucking mean but let me explain for a second. He doesn't get involved in most conflicts in a super meaningful way, and he's never the one leading the charge. And that's just because he doesn't log on as much, to be meta about it (but let's be real, we can't talk about Lifesteal without being meta). But what that means is that his deaths ultimately mean less than people who are more prominent to others on the server.

When Poafa is killed, it's never a dramatic moment where people are upset that he is the one that's dead. For a lot of Lifesteal, he's served as the stand-in for "innocent bystander" that people kill when they want to make a statement about something. People kill Poafa when they need a body on the floor to make a statement, not because Poafa himself, as a person, has actually done anything wrong. Either that, or as a free heart. People kill Poafa to affect others, he's a proxy. And no one has ever really... cared? People get upset about it, sure, but only because of the aforementioned "innocent bystander" position he fills. The last time I can think of where he participated in an actual team was S3, and he's already said he never felt like he fit in with Poggies. And then there was Cleanup Crew, but, well... I think everyone remembers him mostly because of the shitshow THERE. People still make Medusa jokes about him because that's the big thing he's really known for, and you know what role he filled there? Strawman. Fall guy. Never really part of the team, just there to distract everyone else from the real masterminds. The important people.

(And PLEASE understand when I say important it's not to like. Diminish any of the Lifestealers, it's just a shorthand for "more active, more likely to stand out due to their willingness to make big moves".)

And Zam is guilty of this! He killed Poafa during the S5 impeachment of MinuteTech to make a statement. To kill an innocent player, to mess with Minute. Hell, he originally said he was going after Spepticle! The target didn't even matter, but it was Poafa who paid the price for other people's conflicts, and fuck, man, I'd self isolate too! If I was only ever seen as a pawn to be used to fuck with other people, and nearly everyone on the server was guilty of either doing it or falling for it, I'd have a hard time trusting as well! In how many of these situations do we see people going after Poafa and making sure he's OK after? How many people offer to help him re-gear or give him a heart back? Everyone's too busy dealing with the threat that used him as a demonstration.

But then Wemmbu jumps Poafa and he calls Zam, the only other person online, for help. And he immediately starts kicking himself for it! He says that he needs to be self-reliant, because asking for help only ends with people wanting something from him in return. But Zam shows up and helps out and when he does it's for Poafa. "Stay away from my Poafa, Wemmbu." (CRAZY sentence but that's beside the point here). And Zam DOES stick his neck out and DOES go out of his way to tussle with Wemmbu, and even tells Poafa to just run. He puts himself between Poafa and danger, and he CARES about Poafa making it out. Because he's Poafa. Because he's been building and repairing spawn, and Zam noticed, and he CARES.

And then Poafa reaches out to Zam saying that Zam can rely on him, even if he doesn't feel 100% like he can rely on Zam just yet, but he's considering it. And then The Incident happens. And Poafa is killed twice, by Wemmbu, because he can. Because Poafa is free hearts. But Zam did try and stop them and he GIVES HIS OWN HEARTS TO POAFA as an apology for not being able to save him. And suddenly his life means something to someone. He's not another death message in chat, he's not "aw man, not Poafa! He hasn't done anything :(... oh well!" It's "fuck, Poafa, I'm so sorry, I should've been able to help you." And Poafa is like. Dude. It's OK! You don't have to protect me, I don't want to be someone you have to take care of. He says that this is the way it's always been, and he's right! This is average treatment of Poafa, right up until someone actually gives a shit besides "killing innocent player at spawn >:(".

And like. Holy shit dude I really hope they interact more and continue to team up, even though they stream at different hours. Because oh my god. They've both been burned pretty bad by The CycleTM but I feel like Zam is going insane without anyone to talk to about all the shit he's putting up with and Poafa could really use a relationship on the server where he feels like he actually matters. Can anyone hear me. Please don't let this story line die out i will cry