#when that is literally what the post is about lol

[leashybebes]

Hi!! Can i please request the prompt "caring for each other while ill" for bucktommy? ✨💖 It can be post 8x15 or not, i'm not picky, write however the muse hits! (Although i do agree that many of these prompts give post 8x15 vibes! Like what do you mean "reacting to seeing the other one cry" we literally just saw that happen in canon😭😭)

Anyways no pressure of course and also i love your writing! Have a nice day! 🤗

also for @devirnis 💖 went with some nebulous point after they get back together so let's say this features schroedinger's father figure lol

Buck's learned a lot of new things about Tommy, this time around. What he likes, what he hates, what he's scared of. It's been like watching a flower unfurl. It's beautiful to begin with, sure, but you give it some light and you make the soil right, and it becomes something you'd never have been able to predict, with colours and textures and shapes that take you by surprise.

It's wonderful. It's a privilege. 

It's a nightmare and Buck is going to murder him.

Because the latest thing that he's learned about Tommy is that when he's sick, Tommy is apparently an absolute asshole. 

He doesn't really get sick, is the thing. He has allergies in the summer for which he pops antihistamines and merrily carries on. He has a bum knee that he cheerfully RICEs when the air pressure goes too high. Buck has seen him bruised up from Muay Thai, concussed from a rope rescue that went bad, on oxygen for smoke inhalation, and now…now he has a cold.

The first two days, he'd miserably denied he was getting sick (I feel fine, Evan), refused to take any medication (because I don't need to be drowsy, Evan), went to work (I can't believe they grounded me, Evan), and spent the evening sulking on the couch (I'm not in a mood, Evan). 

The third day, he found Tommy at the kitchen table at 5am wearing Buck's favorite blue hoodie with the hood pulled up and the drawstrings pulled tight, a pile of used tissues at his elbow, the tip of his nose bright red, and his eyes teary.

"I woke you up," he says, except it comes out I woag you ub, and the tears spill.

"Uh," Buck says. "Hey there."

"Hi," Tommy says, and scrubs at his eyes with the cuff of Buck's hoodie which…rude. "I think I'm sick." I thig I'b sig.

"You think?"

Buck loosens the drawstrings on the hoodie, pushes the hood down, scratches his fingertips through Tommy's sweaty hair. Tommy nods pitifully against the touch, like he'd managed to completely miss the sarcasm.

"I'm sorry I was mean," Tommy says. I'b sore-y I was bead. "But I think I'm dying." Bud I thig I'b dyig.

Buck bites his lip so he doesn't laugh.

"Okay," he says. "Well, would you rather die in bed?"

"Yes please." Yed bleadth.

Buck does a mental inventory of the medication in the house, the ingredients for a spicy chicken noodle soup while he helps Tommy back into the bedroom, peels him out of his stolen clothes, presses a kiss to his clammy forehead.

"You're a big baby," he says gently, and Tommy gives another one of those miserable little nods, letting his forehead drop onto Buck's shoulder.

"I'b sore-y."

"I'll forgive you if you lay down and take some pills."

"You still lub me?"

"Yes, I still lub - love you, dummy."

Tommy's eyes well up with tears again and Buck tries to remind himself what people say about colds - two days coming, two days here, two days going, right? They've survived worse.

Probably.

[aeniiverse]

CO-PARENTING A CAT

Synopsis — You and Karina broke up three months ago. It was clean, it was adult, it was entirely her idea. But neither of you thought about what it would mean for Miso your shared, overly dramatic, tuna-obsessed cat who now requires joint custody and emotionally complicated drop-offs.

contains — fluff, angst (maybe a sprinkle), exes to lovers, miso is a bit sassy 😭 (I love her), not much warnings lol

WORD COUNT — 2.5k

A/N — Karina just wants to get back together with you and the cat is a perfect excuse 🙏, have this short fic while I start planning out a longer one

You don’t expect to see her when you open the door in your oversized hoodie and one sock missing, but there she is. Karina. Holding Miso in one arm like a prize she’s just won in a claw machine, lips pursed and eyes wide like she wasn’t planning on seeing you either. The cat meows bored, judgmental, as if she’s the one being inconvenienced and Karina finally speaks.

“She was at my door again,” she says, shifting her weight like the three seconds of silence have started to burn. “Scratched it too. I think she hates me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Miso hates everyone. She’s fair like that.”

“She didn’t hate you when we were dating.”

You pause. And that’s the thing about Karina. She’s always been good at slipping the most dangerous sentences into the most harmless moments. Like she’s tossing grenades in with the groceries. You open the door wider, silently letting her in because fighting in the hallway would mean acknowledging to your neighbors that you’re still, sort of, accidentally, in each other’s lives.

Karina walks in like it’s still her place, like she remembers the way the floorboards creak near the fridge and where you keep the emergency Miso treats even though you moved them last month. Miso jumps out of her arms the second she spots the empty food bowl, trotting off like this whole “shared custody” arrangement isn’t ruining your peace.

“You cut your hair,” Karina says, and you swear her voice softens. You resist the urge to touch it, resist the part of you that wants to explain how post-breakup chaos spiraled into a salon visit where you panicked and said “surprise me.”

“You dyed yours,” you shoot back, because this is what the two of you do now, dodge real things with stupid observations. But then you see the way she smiles, just barely, and you hate how much you missed it. How much you still know it by heart.

Karina crouches to pet Miso, who rolls onto her side and purrs like she didn’t just abandon you two hours ago. “I think she’s manipulating us.”

“She’s a cat.”

“She’s your cat.”

You don’t say it, but that’s not true. Not anymore. Miso was a joint decision. She was an “our” cat. Back when you were an “our” instead of a weird arrangement involving Google calendar custody swaps and avoiding the third drawer in the kitchen because it still has Karina’s chopsticks in it. You don’t throw them out. You don’t know why.

“So,” Karina says, standing up and dusting her hands like she just did something heroic. “Should we talk about the scratching or…?”

“She’s probably just mad you don’t feed her the good stuff.”

“I literally bought that overpriced tuna mousse she likes.”

“You mean the one you used to say ‘smelled like ocean trash’?”

“I’ve grown. People grow.”

You snort, and you hate that it feels natural. You hate how she still makes you laugh in that stupid, knee-jerk way. Like your ribcage remembers her before your brain can stop it. She notices of course she notices and that smug, infuriating smile spreads across her face like it never left.

“I can leave,” she offers suddenly, even though she hasn’t moved an inch. “I just didn’t want her to get run over again. You remember last time—”

“I remember you crying harder than she did.”

“She had a cone! She looked like a furry UFO!”

You laugh. Really laugh. And for a second, it feels like you’re back in that strange little bubble you two built together. Where nothing made sense but it didn’t have to, because at least you had each other. But then the silence creeps in again, heavier this time. And you both know what’s missing.

Karina clears her throat. “Anyway. I can… take her back tonight if it’s too much.”

You want to say no. You want to say yes. You want to ask her if she still uses your Netflix profile and if she misses falling asleep next to you and if she meant it when she said it was better this way. But instead you say, “She’s already here. Might as well let her stay.”

And maybe you’re not just talking about the cat.

You’re halfway through a sad microwave dinner and a worse true crime documentary when your phone buzzes with a message from Karina: ”Miso’s acting weird. Like… really weird. Is she supposed to do that thing with her eye??” There’s a photo attached. Miso, mid-yawn. Not dead. Not dying. Just annoyed. You blink at the image for a long moment, then reread the text. Twice. Because it’s either an actual emergency or Karina being dramatic, and you’ve known her long enough to know those two things often look exactly the same.

Still, she said “really weird.” And that’s just enough to push you out the door.

When you show up at Karina’s apartment, you’re out of breath and slightly pissed, mostly because you didn’t have time to put on real pants. She opens the door in her stupid soft cardigan and even stupider wide eyes like she’s genuinely surprised you came. Which is insane. She knows you. She knows the second she says “Miso” and “weird” in the same sentence, you’ll drop everything.

“She stopped blinking for like twenty seconds,” Karina says as you step inside, voice hushed like Miso might hear her and take offense. “That’s not normal, right?”

You walk straight past her to the living room where Miso is perched like a smug little gremlin on the back of the couch. She looks up at you, unimpressed. You reach out a hand, and she immediately headbutts it, purring like an engine. Zero signs of trauma. No eye twitching. Just healthy, spoiled indifference.

“She’s fine,” you say, turning around slowly. “You made me run over here because she blinked weird?”

“I panicked!” Karina throws her arms up. “It was either call you or Google it, and I didn’t want to see something that said she had feline eye cancer or some shit.”

You want to be mad. You really do. But she’s doing that thing again wringing her hands in her sleeves, lips pressing into a guilty pout, eyes flickering everywhere but your face. Like she’s trying to look casual and failing spectacularly.

“You could’ve just said you wanted to see me,” you mutter before you can stop yourself.

The silence that follows is loud enough to make Miso flatten her ears.

Karina looks at you. Actually looks. And for a moment, it’s like you’re both back at the beginning, before the breakup, before the calendar swaps and cold distance and pretending you don’t miss each other. Her face softens, jaw unclenching just slightly. “I didn’t think I had the right.”

You sit on the edge of the couch, gently scooping Miso into your lap. “You gave her tuna mousse last week. I think you forfeited your moral high ground then.”

Karina groans and flops onto the other end of the couch like she’s been holding her drama in all day. “Okay, but have you seen her face when she eats it?.”

“She’s a cat.”

“She’s a tiny angel with expensive taste.”

You roll your eyes but don’t argue. Miso stretches luxuriously across your legs, clearly enjoying the attention. Karina glances at the two of you, then hugs a pillow to her chest like it might keep her from saying something stupid. It doesn’t.

“I thought I was over this,” she says quietly.

Your heart stutters. “Over what?”

“This. You. Wanting to make up reasons to text you. Sitting around hoping you’ll ask for a sleepover again just so I can pretend it’s not a big deal.”

You freeze. Because you weren’t expecting that. Not from her. the one who ended it. The one who said she needed space, clarity, whatever. You’d nodded, swallowed your hurt, let her go. But now she’s looking at you like none of it made her feel better. Like maybe walking away wasn’t some strong, mature decision but a mistake wrapped in fear.

“Then why’d you end it?” you ask. The question hangs in the air like smoke thin and choking.

Karina doesn’t answer right away. She picks at the edge of the pillow, lips tugging down. “Because I thought you deserved someone who wasn’t scared all the time. Who didn’t freeze every time things got serious. I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“You ruined it anyway.”

“I know.”

And that’s the part that stings the most, how calm she is about it. How she says it like she’s been carrying the guilt around every day, tucked inside all the moments where she played it cool and acted like she didn’t miss you. You shift under the weight of Miso and the truth pressing down on your chest.

“I kept your hoodie,” she says suddenly. “The blue one. It still smells like you.”

You blink.

“I didn’t mean to. I just… never gave it back. And now it’s like… this comfort thing? Is that weird? That’s probably weird.”

You stare at her. “Do you sleep in it?”

She shrinks into the pillow. “Sometimes.”

Your laugh is soft, disbelieving. “You fake a cat emergency and sleep in my clothes and you’re wondering if that’s the weird part?”

Karina groans and hides her face. “God, I sound so creepy.”

“No,” you say. “You sound like someone who didn’t want to let go.”

She peeks out, hopeful. “What if I don’t?”

You look down at Miso, who’s blissfully unaware of the emotional mess she’s caused. Then back at Karina, at the flush on her cheeks, the nervous curl of her fingers, the quiet hope in her voice. She doesn’t look like someone who’s moved on. She looks like someone who’s been waiting for a sign.

“You didn’t have to pretend,” you say softly. “You could’ve just said you missed me.”

Karina bites her lip. “I missed you so much it was pathetic.”

You smile. “Good.”

Her eyes widen. “Good?”

“Yeah,” you say, nudging Miso gently to the side as you shift closer. “Because I missed you too.”

There’s a pause, charged and soft at the same time. Then she leans in like gravity’s pulling her there, like she’s done waiting. Her voice drops just above a whisper. “So… does this mean I can stop inventing medical emergencies to see you?”

“No promises,” you tease. “But maybe next time, just say hi like a normal person.”

“Normal’s boring,” she murmurs, and then she kisses you.

It’s tentative at first. Careful. Like she’s afraid you might change your mind. But you don’t. You kiss her back, slow and sure, and when she exhales against your mouth like relief, you realize you’re both still in love. Just slightly less afraid now.

Miso meows loudly between you, possibly out of protest. Possibly because she’s no longer the center of attention.

Karina pulls back, grinning. “I think she’s jealous.”

“She’s just mad she can’t fake another crisis now that the truth’s out.”

You both laugh, leaning into each other, the tension finally breaking.

And maybe it took fake emergencies and tuna mousse and an emotionally manipulative cat to get here, but you’re here. Together. Again.

Sort of.

Almost.

Just enough.

You wake up to the sound of purring and something soft against your cheek. For a brief, disoriented second, you think it’s a dream the one of those warm, sugar-fogged ones where everything is right again and Karina’s still yours. But then you blink, and the ceiling isn’t yours, and the blanket smells like Karina’s detergent, and Miso is fully sprawled across your face like the world’s most possessive weighted blanket. You groan, gently shifting her to the side, and that’s when you feel it. Karina’s arm curled loosely around your waist, her breath steady against the back of your neck, like she never let go at all.

You don’t move. You don’t even breathe for a second. Just lie there, frozen in this strange, tender limbo where maybe you’re not exes, maybe you never were, maybe last night was the first step back to something you weren’t brave enough to fight for before.

Then her voice breaks the quiet, sleepy and rough at the edges. “You drool in your sleep.”

You reach back and smack her arm without turning around. “You kissed me last night.”

“Technically, you kissed me back.”

You finally roll over, careful not to disturb the ball of fur between you. Karina’s hair is a disaster, her eyeliner smudged, one cheek creased from the pillow and she still looks stupidly, unfairly pretty. You hate that it makes your heart do cartwheels. You hate that all it took was one dumb night of honesty and tuna mousse to unravel weeks of distance.

“You really missed me?” you ask, quieter this time. Not teasing. Not testing. Just needing.

Karina nods, eyes meeting yours. “I missed you so much I started naming my plants after you. Even the cactus.”

You stare. “Why the cactus?”

“Because it’s prickly and hard to take care of but it still makes me happy.”

You bury your face in the pillow to muffle the groan. “That’s the worst metaphor I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been emotionally constipated for weeks. Let me live.”

There’s a beat of silence, just long enough to make both of you feel the shift. Like something fragile is settling between you, just out of reach. You lift your head and meet her gaze again, softer now.

“So what does this mean?” you ask. “Was last night a one-time makeout brought to you by guilt and cat anxiety, or…?”

Karina hesitates, then slowly, carefully, reaches for your hand beneath the blanket. Her fingers lace through yours, and her grip is warm. Steady. “It means I want to try again. If you’ll let me. No more running. No more hiding behind Miso.”

You glance down at the cat, who is now asleep with one paw dramatically draped over Karina’s stomach like she’s claiming her.

“She forgives you,” you say.

Karina smiles. “What about you?”

You think about the hoodie she kept, the look on her face when she kissed you, the way she’s holding your hand like she never wants to let go again.

“I think so.”

Karina squeezes your hand. “Good. That means I’ve got time to win you back properly.”

You arch an eyebrow. “Properly? Is that code for elaborate gestures or more fake cat emergencies?”

She grins. “Oh no. I’m done lying. Next time I want to see you, I’m just gonna show up with coffee and a tragic playlist and say, ‘I’m still in love with you, please let me in.’”

You snort. “That sounds terrifying.”

“Yeah, well,” she says, tugging you closer until your forehead brushes hers, “so is losing you again.”

And when you finally lean in, kissing her like you mean it this time no confusion, no fear. Miso lets out the most offended meow imaginable and storms off the bed like she wasn’t the reason you’re here in the first place.

[kaysdelights]

when you're forced to marry an alien himbo | 🔞

words: 5004 fem reader x male main character w / au's: alien!au, himbo alien, arranged marriage, getting off in front of him summary: you're a brand new bride to a himbo virgin alien warrior that is obsessed with making you happy:) a/n: i told myself i wouldn't repost ALL of my shitty stories again for the millionth time while i figure out what i wanna do with my life BUT i desperately wanna get inspiration for this AU again because it was SO FUN TO WRITE! so im posting it again and also i need to tell myself i can do whatever i want to be happy D': okay love you <3 there is another part to this hehe also this has nothing to do with the other alien au i posted recently... i was just in a mood late last year writing about hot aliens lol

“You might want to have a seat when I tell you this, bestie.” You hear the impending doom in the tone of her voice coming in clearly through the speaker of your phone. “You’re an alien bride.” 

As if things couldn’t get any shittier for you. 

You got fired from your job because you were running late due to your car breaking down. You couldn’t afford to fix the part on your car because your bank account was overdraft due to your A/C breaking the week before. But it’s not like you could have even paid for the A/C when your boyfriend (now ex) broke up with you, drained your account for all he could, and took off with your sister to Vegas. Now you’re an alien bride thanks to the leaders of earth making a deal with the alien’s that they would protect all humans from the other invasive species of the universe if they send mate’s for the aliens in return. 

“Or, is it an alien's bride? Are you an alien bride if you’re human and you’re marrying the alien? Or, like, are you the alien’s bride because you’re the alien’s? You belong to the alien. The alien’s woman? Either way… that’s you, girl.”

The sound of your best friend rambling because she’s scared shitless for you barely snaps you out of your daze. 

“Is he rich, at least?” You sigh into the speaker. What’s one more weird and oddly specific thing that could go wrong? Just add it to the list. Alien, or maybe alien’s, bride? Check! “Because that would solve half my problems, Sera, and honestly when you’re only adding one problem back in, it evens out. Girl math.”

“Listen, you didn’t hear it from me-” But, you did. Sera works for the earth-intergalactic species representatives resources department. This is the only reason you’re finding out about this now. Normally people are just snatched up from their homes to go off and breed ginormous alien babies. Or, at the very least, marry an alien. You aren’t too sure on the specifics of what happens after that, but you have always been a little curious… “Your alien is a total hottie.” 

“What are you insinuating?” You gasp, part offended and part imagining how hot your alien husband-to-be actually is. “I just go up there and let this alien have his way with me to completely destroy me? I heard they’re not gentle! They’re mean and rough and ugly. So, really, how hot could he be?”

“You’ve never even seen one of them before!” She begins to whisper, as if someone is coming closer that could hear and potentially get her fired, or worse. “Look, you’re one overdraft fee away from homelessness. Don’t look at this as a bad thing. You’ve got no choice.”

You know she’s right. What other choice do you have? 

You’re beamed up to the alien spaceship that hovers earth the following morning. Literally. Beamed up in a blink of an eye. One minute you’re on earth, the next you’re surrounded by cold, steel walls in a circular room with two bags of your things and your cat, Jellybean. Jellybean hisses at thin air as he looks around, clinging to your shirt like it's his lifeline. His orange fur begins to fly when you try to soothe him, all before a sliding door opening to the right, and in walks the dreamiest, most charming, hunkiest man that ever hunked. 

Was this your alien husband-to-be? God, you hoped so. You were going to end it all if you haven’t even left earth yet, knowing this divine specimen exists and you couldn’t have a chance with him.

He clears his voice, a nervous smile on his lips, before he tells you his name. “I’m your husband.” 

Relief floods you. She was right. He is hot. Beyond hot. Your knees quiver as he steps closer, heart racing. As he walks into the yellow cast of the light overhead, you notice his brown, military style uniform, matching cap on his head, and black boots. Of course, all the aliens are trained soldiers well respected across galaxies for their skills in combat. It’s why earth so happily accepted their protection. They needed to remain safe, and the aliens needed mates. 

Jellybean hisses again to pull you away from the thoughts roaming. He looks down at the cat, then back to you. You expect him to be rude, mean even, maybe make an insulting comment, but he only smiles. 

“Would you like to see our living quarters? Let your friend get something to eat and drink while we settle in?”

“S-Sure.” Okay, you weren’t expecting that. Aren’t these aliens supposed to be mean? Horrid? Rough? Terrible? Ugly?! So far he was none of these things. He doesn’t even have a problem with Jellybean. Your ex hated Jellybean, but to be fair Jellybean hated him, too. 

God, speaking of, has it really been that long since you’ve been laid that you’re getting all hot and bothered over this alien just for being nice and not minding your cat? He leads you down corridors of metal until you’re suddenly thrust into a bustling living area full of other aliens and humans, lounges, TVs, little food carts with any option of burger, chicken wing, or pizza you could imagine. You name it, it was offered in those delicious smelling stands, though you wonder what kind of meat they used. Alien technologies are clearly far more advanced. Even their fauna was beautiful and ethereal looking, sparkling off the synthetic sun overhead while the koi fish in the ponds around them swam gracefully.

Though food and decor didn’t keep your attention for long. A couple you walk past looks as lovey-dovey in love as one could be. He’s much larger than her as she snuggles into his side while the two read the intergalactic news articles in the morning paper. She leans up and gives him a kiss on his cheek. As if she just couldn’t help herself, and you really can’t blame her either when you notice all of the aliens are pretty hot.

Not as hot as your alien, of course. There’s no alien like your husband. 

“Um, husband?” You shuffle your feet quickly to reach his side, grabbing onto his arm with the hand that isn’t holding Jellybean. 

“Yes, wife?” A shiver races down your spine at him calling you wife. God, were you really about to fall head over heels for an alien? The odds seemed likely. At this point, what did you have to lose? You only had everything to gain. Like a super hot, super attention and sweet alien husband who was no doubt packing downstairs. 

“Where exactly are we staying aboard this massive ship?” The alien spaceship was big enough to serve as a warning to the other space travelers to stay away, but also big enough to host every trained soldier from their home planet. 

“Just down here,” he says, leading you out of the living area down a more lively looking hallway with plants and pictures of army captains. Then he stops down another hallway in front of a door seconds before it slides to the right. “Right in here.” He carries your two bags through the threshold into the most normal looking foyer you have ever seen. Ahead are even a set of stairs made from hardwood floor. To the right, a kitchen. To the left, a living room. A house that jumped straight out of a magazine. You expected the alien spaceship to look like something from Star Trek, and part of it does, but some parts…

“This looks so…”

“Human?”

“Yes!” He chuckles at that, setting your things down while you let Jellybean  out of your arms to go sniff everything. “Why?”

“To make our mates more comfortable. To feel more like home.”

You can’t help your frown. “What if we don’t want it to feel that way?” Your voice is a whisper as you take in the surroundings. You’ve never lived anywhere this nice. It’s way too suburban, picket fence, three kids and a dog for you. 

“If the living arrangement is not to your standards, we can make changes.” There’s a frown on his face now. He actually looks disappointed you don’t seem happy. You definitely hate that look.

“It’s great! No worries!” You offer him the biggest smile you can muster, watching his grin return. “So, shall we get started?” you ask, beginning to take off your coat considering shoes were already left at the entrance. The coat falls to the floor before you begin unbuttoning your jeans.

“Wh-what are you doing?” He blinks a few times before turning his head from you. “If you needed to get changed, I could have stepped away.” He won’t look at you, so you stop fidgeting with your jeans. 

“Changed? No, I meant sex and alien babies.” He snaps his head at your words. “Isn’t that what I’m here for?”

“You’re here to be my wife.”

“Yeah… which means sex and then having alien babies. Right?” 

He looks confused. Now you feel heat rushing to your cheeks. You quickly pick your coat from the floor, covering yourself to not feel as exposed from your embarrassment. Not like it would help. He’s already eyed you up and down and back again at the mere mention of sex. 

“I’m… not sure.” He looks down, rubbing the back of his neck. “We were told marrying a human would give us strength, power. That what we receive from our mate would make us nearly invincible.”

Your jaw hangs open. “Excuse me?” You blink, taking a step toward him. “What the fuck are you saying?”

He gulps, not bothering to meet your eyes due to him cowering like you’re a foot taller than him. To be fair, you do have an intimidating gaze when things start to get complicated.

“Being with a human means being powerful,” he repeats, though it doesn’t make an ounce more sense. “We were told our humans would teach us what we needed to know to be successful lovers.”

You choke on your own spit from the words, coughing. “So being a good lover makes you more powerful?” You shake your head. “Being with me… being a good lover… makes you more powerful?” You’re squinting at him, no longer frustrated, but curious if he’s saying what you think he’s saying. If so, you have one hot himbo virgin on your hands and he’s in dire need of a sex lesson from you. 

“Yes, that’s it.” He nods, finally looking you in the eyes. 

“Well, you know what? My life sucks so what the hell? Whatever it is, alien husband, I’m going to make you more powerful! And you know what else? My life could still suck but at least I don’t have to go to work anymore and have Creepy Andy stare at my tits all day.” 

He frowns, anger spreading in his features. The shift in his demeanor is so sudden, it catches you off guard. “Is this Creepy Andy a problem?”

Oh… you like that. This alien is awakening something in you that makes you… horny? Scared? Maybe both. He’s big, and dangerous, and from another planet and it kind of turns you on he is willing to do, well whatever he would do to Creepy Andy if you said yes. No human man has ever made you feel this way. This stirring of excitement and adrenaline mixed with fear of the unknown washing over you as he looks at you like he would eat you up and worship you. Of course, what’s his has been threatened. From his tone, his posture, his words, you realize he’s a territorial man. So your hot himbo virgin alien is the jealous, protective type. Somehow you find him even more attractive.

“Not anymore,” you tell him, sighing, pouting, earning a little more of his attention which you realize you actually adore in the moment. He steps closer, placing hands on your arms. “I mean, it got pretty bad there for a while. He was always trying to flirt, and make weird comments about me, and just be creepy, you know?”

Okay, you didn’t have to go into detail, but to watch your new alien husband get worked up over another man’s comments about your body does something to your confidence. This alien has claimed you for his keeping, and it’s clear no one else should dare to even look at you or this alien super soldier will not be so nice.

“Where can one find this Creepy Andy?”

His question has you bursting into giggles. “Don’t worry about it.” You reach to pat him on the chest, feeling the hard muscle underneath. “It’s not something I have to worry about anymore.” 

You pull away to go get Jellybean settled in while he takes your things upstairs. After a while of soothing Jellybean and coaxing him out of his hiding place under one of the lounges in the living room so he would eat something, your husband comes downstairs to offer you a cooked meal.

“You cook?”

“Sometimes.” His sheepish grin has butterflies swarming your stomach. How can he be so hot, and intimidating, yet cute? You follow him into the kitchen with the standard fridge and oven, with a sink and dishwasher close by. Looks just like something you would see on earth, if it weren’t for the unique gadgets and interesting trinkets here and there. You assume they are alien created, and you’re curious how they work.

You guess a lesson on alien tools will have to be another day as he gets to work creating you a meal that smells delicious. He tells you it’s some sort of delicacy where he’s from, but you don’t question it. You haven’t eaten all day, too nervous about meeting him. So you take a bite, and to your surprise, it’s not half bad. There’s a few flavors you recognize in the dish, what look to be like noodles, and some kind of meat. You don’t ask the questions you normally would. You don’t want to spoil it if this is what you have to live with. 

“Would you like to join me while I wash up?” he asks while taking the plates away to place them in the dishwasher. A man who cooks and cleans up? You’ve died and gone to heaven. 

“Wash up? As in… shower?”

“Shower, bathe, whatever you wish to do.”

It’s hard to turn him down when he’s being so generous. “S-Sure.” Though, you are a little nervous. It’s been so long since you’ve even seen anyone in their underwear. Better to go ahead and get the awkwardness out of the way. This is your husband, after all. 

“I would love a bath. My muscles feel so tense from being nervous and I think I sweated so much from the anticipation of meeting you I would really like to wash up.”

He’s smiling at your rambling. Okay, you’re a lot nervous. Not that you don’t have confidence around men. You do and you enjoy taking charge and demanding what you want, but this is no ordinary man. This man is gorgeous, understanding, sweet, and kind. From out of this world. This man could have been written by a woman, maybe mother nature herself, and that’s what is making you so nervous. Why does he seem so perfect? You were so convinced the aliens were mean, and rough, and ugly, but he’s shown you the opposite. 

“Come with me,” is all he says before you’re following him up the stairs, down the hall into a room that looks more alien than human. The door slides to the ride to reveal marble steps leading to a dais filled with water. The platform sits low as a soft hum emits from the inviting bathing pool, lights glowing all around in alien markings you can’t decipher. 

“This is simply gorgeous,” you sigh, taking in the purple and blue fauna all around the room. Steam rolls off the water, shimmering beneath the glowing markings. 

“I’m happy it pleases you, I spent a while setting it up for you,” your big alien husband says, his tone giving him away that he could be blushing. “This is where I can bathe you every night while worshipping your body in any way you see fit. It is one of the more intimate ways we can bond so you can share your gift with me, so I feared I might be rushing things, but I admit, I was excited to show you.” 

You’re nearly brought to tears from the way he speaks to you as well as this steamy, inviting bathing pool he’s brought you to. Earth men could never. 

“Thank you,” you whisper a second before jumping into him. Your arms wrap around his neck while his hands pull you in closer. “No one has ever been this nice to me or done something so sweet.” He took you away from at least half your problems, doesn’t mind your cat, gave you a cozy, comfortable house to live in, cooked for you, built your own personal, lavish bathing pool, and wants to give you orgasms every night. Could your life get any better? You might have just fallen in love. It’s not too soon if he’s an alien, right? 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he says, pulling away. “I just wanted to show you tonight, and if all we do is admire one another in our flesh then that’s okay with me.”

Your heart swells. Could your husband get any sweeter? “No, believe me, I want to.” Suddenly, you’re not feeling so shy. The confidence has returned in full force as you take your coat off once again, allowing it to fall to the floor.

“Well,” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding your eyes. “If you’re sure you’re comfortable…”

The mood shifts suddenly. You picked up on the tone of his voice, the uncertainty there. 

“Hey, are you alright?” You stop in the middle of unbuttoning your jeans once again, stepping to him to look into his eyes from below. 

“I just…” He lets out a breath and your heart sinks. 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, either,” you remind him, reaching to give his hand a squeeze. “I’ll admit, this whole situation is bananas, and the fact that I have a husband who is an alien is wild to me, but we don’t have to rush anything just because that’s what we’re supposed to do.”

He looks into your eyes, the subtlest of wrinkles between his brows. “It’s just… my whole life I was trained to be a soldier. I’ve spent well over twenty of your earth years testing my combat skills, my war knowledge, my stamina and wit and endurance. It wasn’t until our last years in training did they talk about our need for a human mate from earth. I… I want to be a good mate to you, a good husband, because it’s important to both of our species survival, but I don’t know how.” 

Tears finally do begin to well behind your lids as he speaks. The familiar tightness tugs behind your eyes, heart breaking into pieces. You only thought about how the situation makes you feel, not how your new alien husband would feel. You feel a little sick at the thought of disregarding him just because he’s not human. Of course he has feelings and boundaries. 

“I’m sorry,” you exhale, shaking your head. His expression turns into confusion, brow wrinkling and lips parted. “I guess I’m just used to the men I’ve been with and their ability to only speak with their dicks. This is the most adult conversation I’ve ever had. I don’t know how many times I can say this, but earth men could never!” 

He chuckles as you speak, happy to see his smile return since he’s unbelievably beautiful when he does so. “I like the way you talk. It’s funny.”

“Funny?” You raise a brow, but you can’t stop yourself from grinning. 

“It makes me happy and I just want to keep smiling.”

Oh… he thinks you’re cute. Your stomach flip flops just the same as your heart. 

“Why don’t we start as slow as both of us need to.” You step away from him, gesturing toward the bathing pool. “Let’s just bathe tonight.” 

He agrees and you both begin to take your clothes off. There’s hesitation in every motion and he can’t stop stealing glances at you. Your jeans slide to the floor, his shirt follows. Piece by piece until you’re both naked before one another. His eyes travel down your body, taking in every enticing curve, every dip, every expanse of skin until he’s gulping. You take him in as well, the muscles twitching beneath your gaze, the smooth skin, the fact that his cock is half hard and growing as he looks at you. A big, thick, delicious looking cock that you aren’t sure how is going to fit inside of you, but God do you want to try. 

You don’t want to stare for too long because you don’t want to make him uncomfortable. If he was written by a woman, he was built by a God. It’s hard to pull your eyes away, but you finally manage to make your way to the edge of the steamy pool. The water is crystal clear, noticing glowing markings on the bottom and sides of the pool. The blue, shimmery light guides you to step down into the water, taking each step slow until you’re submerged up to your ribs. 

“How does it feel?” His voice behind you earns your attention. You turn to face him, watching as he follows your steps into the pool. The water comes to his waist as the two of you slowly dance around one another, gliding in the water as the heat relaxes your body. 

“Feels amazing. Like I’m being massaged all over. And what’s that smell?”

“Honey and rose. Comes from the water. The massage feeling is intentional due to the currents created from the vibrations in the walls.”

So that’s where the hum comes from. Interesting. “This is too cool, honestly.” You begin laughing, then he joins in. As if neither of you can believe the situation. All you can do is laugh. 

Until his smile fades and the mood shifts. “Can I see you?” he asks, and at first you’re confused, until his eyes sweep down your body. 

“Didn’t you see when we undressed?”

“I want to see all of it,” is all he says, eyes traveling down once again, and landing on the little V between your thighs. Your heart skips a beat. There’s no way you can tell him no. Not when he looks like he wants to eat you like his favorite dessert, he just may be a little confused about what toppings he wants. You’re willing to show him as you back up to the closest step to hoist yourself up onto the ledge of the bathing pool. His eyes are glued to you as you part your legs for him, giving him the perfect view of your pussy. 

He licks his lips, eyes darkening. The mood has shifted entirely. There’s a heaviness between the two of you now. One of longing and desire. He may not know all the intricacies of sex, but it’s clear he wants to. 

His exhale is heavy before he speaks. “Please, teach me.” He huffs again, like he’s struggling with holding himself together. “Teach me what I can do to make you feel good. 

You bite your lip for a second. “They didn’t prepare you for anything?”

“Not much. We got most of our knowledge from hearsay, though the basics were taught.” He takes another deep breath. “We expect our partners to teach us, that way their needs are met. It’s important to me for you to be pleasured properly. So, please, I’m not asking you to give me a lesson, I’m asking what makes you feel good…”

You inhale a sharp breath. The last thing you want to do is take things too far if he isn’t comfortable. Though, now you’re wondering if he just isn’t comfortable because he doesn’t want to let you down. That’s why it’s so important to him for you to show him.

So your hand falls between your thighs to begin stroking the soft skin of your pussy. Feather light strokes earn his attention quickly, watching so you only play for a few seconds. 

“If it makes you feel better,” you begin, middle finger finding your clit to begin teasing yourself there, “I’ve never done this with anyone before.” His eyes remain trained between your thighs, watching your finger softly circle your clit. 

“You’ve never touched yourself in front of someone?” he asks, and you bite your lip while shaking your head. A grin forms on his lips. “I’m your first?” 

You nod, then sigh when you dip your hand lower, finger easing inside of yourself to feel how wet you’ve become. Then you trace a line back to your clit, beginning to rub in slow circles once again. 

“I’m getting so wet already,” you whisper as he takes a step closer. “It must really turn me on when you watch me.” You don’t consider what you tell him dirty talk. It’s only the truth. You’ve never been watched like this. He takes another step toward you, and another, until he’s pressing his palms to the water’s edge near each of your thighs. 

“I hear it’s a good thing,” he says, looking between your pussy being pleasured and your head tossed back with lips parted. “If you get wet for me, it means you are enjoying yourself, yes?”

“God, yes…” Your fingers dip again, easing inside of you as your hips begin to roll against your hand. 

“Have you ever gotten this wet for anyone else?” he asks as his hand lazily falls onto your thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb. The added attention, even if so innocent and curious, adds to the pleasure, jolts of electricity surging from where he's touched you. 

“I don’t think so,” you tell him in a raspy breath, and once again, it’s the truth. He’s a jealous alien, so he needs reassurance. You feel yourself dripping onto the edge of the pool. No one’s ever made you this hot just by watching you. Normally you have to work hard to get yourself close, but you feel yourself on the edge of bliss within minutes. Slowing down, you bring yourself back in, wanting more than anything to make this moment last between the two of you. 

“Good,” he groans, and it nearly brings you right back to the precipice of your orgasm. “I want to be the only one that gets to see you like this. Touching yourself. Dripping wet for me.”

“Yes!” you cry out, falling back to lean on one hand as he grips your thighs, parting them wider for him to see. The other hand continues to work your clit in messy, quick circles. Your breaths deepen as soft moans escape your lips. You’re getting close to the edge again just from the way he watches you touch yourself. 

“The noises you make are making my cock ache, baby,” he nearly growls, suddenly full of sexual frustration, but he keeps it together. Warmth floods your body from the pet name. It’s never sounded so good coming from anyone else’s mouth. “Does it feel that good, or do you just enjoy me watching you touch yourself that much?”

“Both,” you whimper seconds before the pleasure is bursting from between your thighs. You couldn’t hold yourself off any longer, warmth surging through your body as the bliss takes hold. You cry out for him, reaching to wrap an arm around his neck and pull his body close as you ride out the pleasure. He takes hold of you, wrapping you up in his embrace until you’re coming down and catching your breath. 

Panting, shaking, he holds you against his naked body for what feels like an eternity. He strokes your hair and back, pressing his lips to the top of your head. 

When you pull away, you look him in the eyes, then your gaze falls to his mouth. “Will you kiss me?” you ask, and a darkness ignites in his eyes, the question fueling his evident desire for you. He leans in, pressing his lips to your own. Softly at first, just to feel each other’s skin, then he leans in further. He takes hold of you and the moment, slipping his tongue past your lips to play, to tease. You can’t help but moan against him, becoming lost in the very thing you swore was going to be terrible. 

He finally pulls away from you to begin tending to you as he would if he were really bathing you. He washes your body with the softest cloth and the same smelling gel from a little vial he had prepared. While he washes you, he explores your body, taking his time to go over every inch until you begin to feel worked up again.

When you’re both clean, he helps you out of the pool to dry you off. You giggle at the ticklish spots and he laughs at your giggling. He already has a cozy looking pajama set prepared on the bed which you will share with him when he takes you to the bedroom. 

When you’re dressed for bed, you snuggle between the sheets and he pulls you as close as he can to his body. 

“Good night, wife,” he whispers, placing a kiss against your temple.

“Good night, alien husband,” you reply, smiling to yourself since it seems, not half, but all of your problems have disappeared because of him. 

[krystella-shifts]

Everything is clicking for me y'all!!! ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ Part 2 lmao

If you need help with: • how to stop reacting to the 3d • stop looking at 3d for validation & be ur own validation • how to manifest shifting/shift using loa • manifest FASTER cuz you won't be wavering anymore • ALL OF IT CAN BE ANSWERED FOR YOU IN THIS POST

First of let's take a example ✨

Manifesting money example ★*'•

let's say you Affirm for money, you script it or whatever you do and you get movement. You see signs or hear about a promotion at your job or idk hearing your parents talk about giving you sum cash lol BUT THEN you check your bank account and it's the same amount or you didn't see anything, you didn't hear anything else from your parents and you get discharged like "oh wtvr. Didn't work. Nothing is happening" blah blah

If you're not a shifter you don't have to read this.

Shifting ⊹ .° ୭̥

as a shifting blog (yes it is 😭) let's take a shifting example & explanation for understanding and applying in shiftings case.

So you were trying to shift to your dr and you felt all the symptoms, lights, emotions and sensations that you are there, you affirmed,you did the method, you felt like you ARE there but you were still nervous to open your eyes, unsure if you shifted but you finally did open your eyes.... And it was your bubble reality (I call this shiz bubble reality deal with it 💀) THEN YOU GOT FRUSTRATED AND PUT LABELS ON THIS ATTEMPT AS A "FAILED ATTEMPT" AND ROLLED OVER AND CALLED IT A DAY.

My honest reaction if you've done anything like that:

First of all- why're you "TRYING"?? you're the one deciding here, you're the creator of your reality. No matter what kind of reality you're experiencing, you 🫵🏻 created it. Yes you did. And all those symptoms, yeah tbh it's fun to feel symptoms but they're just the effects on body and your body is NOT the one shifting so don't focus on it too much, use it as a placebo effect rather. if you get symptoms believe that they mean you're shifting/have shifted. You did all that affirming, visualizing and felt it, you were almost certain you shifted.. but the thing is you need to be FULLY certain instead of almost certain. No matter what you see, you keep having it in your mind/imagination. HERE'S WHY YOU DO NOT LOOK AT THE 3D FOR VALIDATION... CUZ IT IS LOOKING RIGHT BACK AT YOU RIGHT IN THE FACE FOR VALIDATIONNNN. you're the validation here.

4d is above 3d for a reason. Why we call it more real reality is because it is the one creating. Imagination is the creative mode, like a factory where it's all made. Physical world is just a reflection of it so what's more real bruh? A mirror? Absolutely not. So why would you look at it for validation. It's like wanting to put on mascara but you're putting it on the mirror and asking why it's not working. Cuz YOU ARE THE ONE WHO NEEDS TO CHANGEEE. if you are not even changing then don't even be upset that the 3d is still the same pls. Ofc it is cuz your core beliefs are still the same as well!

You don't look outside of you for validation when you're literally creating the outside from the inside (your imagination.)

It's like reading yesterday's news paper and expecting today's news.

A very important thing that clicked for me was when I Affirm/visualise/script wtvr, it's inevitable that I'm gonna get what I want so there's ABSOLUTELY NO REASON ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH TO CHECK THE 3D BRUH. it clicked for me that 3d is so ducking powerless 😮‍💨 unless ‼️ YOU give it power. It's ONLY a reflection of who you are, what you're being/your state. Idgaf, the law doesn't gaf. whatever you assume IS true.

So why are you letting 3d decide if you have it or not? If you shifted or not? If you stick to the fact that you do have it, NOT for the 3d to confirm, cuz that's inevitable, but for YOU. do it for you bro, do it for you. And OBVIOUSLY it's gonna be reflected in the physical IF YOU ARE STICKING TO THE NEW STORY. Don't go back and forth with "oh I have it" "no i don't FML" "i am in my dr" "when will I shift from this reality? It sucks" YOU CAN'T SERVE TWO MASTERSSSS

So stop looking at the 3d for validation cuz you're the one who created and is creating it. Even if you open your eyes here- no you didn't. No you DID NOT. You're literally in your DR, wtf are you talking about? You're literally slaying. I am in my dr cuz I said so. Idgaf what 3d says.

TMI: my wallpaper literally says "Go within, everything you need is there" No matter what it is, it's gonna happen if you have it in the 4d.

[balrogballs]

I came across that silm nobel prize argument you mentioned in yr tag. I’m not asking about the ship war stuff, I know you don’t do ship stuff but only if you don’t mind, I was interested in hearing yr thoughts on the accessibility stuff they were talking abt, like what makes a fanfic acessible. I was thinking of your post on making your AU acessible for a fanfic reader, and it made me think that the nobel prize OP was using the word inacessible in a wrong way?

I assume this refers to that ‘Silm writers are inaccessible & elitist compared to TROP writers, nobody wants to write an essay about the fanfic they read, flower shop AUs have more ‘real human emotion’ than thematically dense fic, it’s AO3 not the Nobel Prize longlist’ nonsense unless there’s another one floating about in which case jesus fucking christ lol

It’s an interesting one lol… I don’t follow the page or post about the show so I didn’t see it, but a bunch of people have DMed it to me across the last couple weeks, since while the OP was speaking in general or collective terms, I tick a few of their shitlist boxes in a rather obvious way lol. I’ve said variations of this across said DMs and other writers may have a different opinion but essentially:

I personally don’t treat ‘accessibility’ as a concern when it comes to fanfic, unless we’re talking disability accommodations like alt-text or not using emojis, or tagging for triggers. ‘Must be enjoyable for people who like a certain style of writing’ is not an accessibility requirement, it’s your Goodreads wishlist. I do not care about what you want Santa to bring you. Perhaps it’s because I’ve not been in fandom long enough but I genuinely cannot think of a response aside from ‘get a fucking grip lol’.

And re your question about my AU, what I meant there by adapting the story for a fanfic audience was that I toploaded it with regional context and diaspora eyes before getting into the actual narrative in a way I wouldn’t have done if (god forbid) I wrote it as a novel. That isn’t a comment on style or theme, it’s literally just because I’d expect that someone walking into a bookshop, picking up, and paying for a book about a Marxist madhouse in North Kerala full of intertextual elements so thinly veiled as to be practically wrapped in clingfilm, would be at least vaguely familiar with the genre and context.

This is something I would not assume of people scrolling through AO3, because there’s no reason to expect that, hence providing extra info, being conscious as to what I can’t presume people already know, putting some extra elbow grease into “world building”, translating within the text itself, answering questions about regional/historical context etc… it’s not an accessibility measure, I’d say it’s closer to providing an appendix/glossary.

I don’t know, like imo it’s kind of ridiculous to sit around shitting on people for writing narratives more complex than what you personally like, but that’s your space, preference and prerogative… go ham and shit away, it is your toilet, not mine.

My irritation is mostly with the language of “accessibility” and “elitism” and trying to make it sound like a societal ill by using such buzzwords. Yes, there may well be elitism or lorebros or whatever in a general fandom sense, but I don’t know what fanfic has to do with that.

The Silmarillion probably does have a higher concentration of whatever they mean by Nobel Prize fics but that’s not exactly due to some oppressive feudal fandom hierarchy, it’s literally just because the fanbase skews older and the source text is conducive to a certain style of literary writing being relatively popular… it’s not some big injustice, it’s pretty normal, generally speaking, for fanworks to reflect the style and tone of the source text regardless of how transformative they are, simply because the one thing most people in any given fandom share is their enjoyment of said source text.

I like to think of myself as being well read but there are tons of books ‘inaccessible’ to me beyond reading preferences. When I was at university I worked on regional literature but I always specified Malayalam rather than ‘South India’ even though the college used the latter as a tag, because I can’t read Tamil or Kannada etc—that doesn’t mean those languages are inaccessible languages. One’s experience as an individual is not a benchmark for something already as subjective as accessibility. I’m not exactly going to call the Dance Mums fanbase elitist gatekeepers for writing fanfiction just because I’ve never seen an episode of the show.

Also not to be an insufferable pedant but like… if someone wants to use ‘publishable standard’ as a negative term, they should probably look up what it means. Publishable standard just means that a work is fit for publication, it’s not meant to be a comment on genre, style or content. The Cat in the Hat is of publishable quality but that doesn’t mean Dr. Seuss should win the Booker.

Finally, I know the OP was speaking in general and refers to a ‘group’ of writers but speaking for myself, l’m sorry I simply cannot see how on earth a style of writing can make someone elitist: I don’t deny I’ve spent years with the academic silver spoon up my ass, I have openly acknowledged it on multiple occasions both joking and otherwise, and also do not deny that comes across in the way I write.

However, my blog is 80% pure shitposting. My AO3 page isn’t required reading. You do not have to enjoy my writing style in order to interact with me, you are allowed to find it insufferable because it often is insufferable. Hell, you can even tell me you hate it, preferences are subjective. There is no gatekeeping here. Nobody is holding quiz nights about 1970s India and beating people if they get a question wrong.

TLDR: yes, yes, fanfiction doesn’t have to be of a publishable standard because it’s people writing for fun yes, yes, elitism is bad, yes, yes, but that doesn’t mean ‘not writing a flowershop AU’ is some kind of systemic oppression against the AO3 proletariat lol.

Hope this went some way to answer your question!

[lokisknife]

Golden Girl - John Price

Summary: In a London club alive with the victory celebrations of Task Force 141, Captain Price just wants a night free from formality and the weight of war. But amidst the revelry, a new kind of tension emerges as his attention fixates on his newest sniper, Y/N, his "Golden Girl". Battling thoughts he knows are inappropriate due to his age and rank, Price finds himself drawn to her in a way that defies duty. pulling towards something undeniably "risky. And wrong. And so, so tempting".

Warnings: not sticking to the canon; age difference (do I really have to say everyone is an adult here? we're talking about the military, helloooo); heavy drinking; implied size kink; implied corruption kink (just a little bit!).

Word count: 2.3k~ish

Author's note: ok, this has been sitting on my drafts for quite literally more than a year. this month sucked, my pet died, high stress at the job, high stress at uni and I've been hospitalized with a kidney infection (plz drink water and pee after sex. i beg you). I'm too scared of writing actual smut, and I wanted to post this finally, so... sorry if this is too short. I don't think anyone is going to read this lol is cod hype even a thing anymore?

It’s a typical Friday night in London. To the civilians, at least. The club is buzzing with life, with groups of all sizes chatting and laughing, drinks being spilled by drunk people on the dance floor while the colored lights keep flickering. Red, blue, red, blue, purple. The unusual thing about tonight is that the club is packed with soldiers —they aren’t spotted by their uniform, no, they are all dressed to the occasion, thank you very much. But they are spotted, instead, by their demeanor: loud, expansive, with a certain arrogance to know that they can celebrate as hard as they want because they deserve it. Their drunken grins showed a type of euphoria you could only feel if you had just won the war. And that is precisely what happened.

The infamous Task Force 141, with the help of Los Vaqueros and the Shadow Company, spent thirteen months of non-stop hard work completely annihilating a major terrorist group that presented an international threat. Unfortunately, as part of the job, the soldiers' stress levels only grew in proportion to the way the dangerous organization crumbled to ashes: all of them, by some months of work, presented stiff muscles, dark underbags, and snappy responses. And Captain Price was a traditional man: was there a way of de-stressing better than drinking your body weight in alcohol and shit-talking with your friends? He didn’t think so. His boys deserved a little fun; they did an excellent job under his command. So, order everything you want on his tab.

And there she was, the Captain’s Golden Girl, basking in the energetic booming music that made the concrete floors shake. Being the newest one on the team, she earned the nickname from her teammates, who always found a way to tease her about the non-subtle preference of the older man for his newest sniper. Innocently, Y/N thought it was a consequence of her professionalism: she was reliable and precise, always following her superior’s orders without any hesitation, and her accuracy with her rifle was impressive. She was very proud of it, always biting back a grin when the Brit called her “my golden girl”, so, of course, her friends wouldn’t dare burst her bubble. After years under his wing, they knew the bastard too damn well to know that his acts of endearment to the rookie were very far off from the paternalistic proudness Price felt towards the rest of the Task Force. Especially when his drunken state can’t take his eyes off her, sitting so pretty on the other side of the table. 

“We’re off duty, so we better act like we’re off duty” was Price’s motto for the night. After the stresses of the battlefield, he only longed for a night out with his friends, and not an awkward happy hour with coworkers. So, not only was it mandatory to boast all you want, it was essential to leave all the formalities back at the compound: for tonight, at least, there were no ranks, no dog tags, and no uniforms. Wanting to impress someone (even though he said to himself that he shouldn’t), he dressed nicely: before stepping out, he spent an embarrassingly long time perfecting his beard and applying cologne, kicking himself for caring too much. He really shouldn’t; it’s not right.

Staring at the girl in front of him, taking in her mini-skirt and the top that enhanced every single one of her curves, he forced himself to think about how he was too old for her, and not how the clothing would look scattered on his floor. Analyzing the way she did her make-up to perfection, he repeated “I’m her boss” like a mantra, instead of focusing on how incredibly plush her lips look with that shiny lip gloss.

Price is pulled out of his thoughts as shot glasses are slammed down on the hardwood table, followed by the sound of tipsy giggles. As Soap pulled a disgusted face at the burning taste of the tequila, Y/N wiped her chin from any remnants of spilled alcohol. Unaware of the glances coming from the other side of the table, she watched the banter that was initiated between the Scotsman and Alejandro at her side. 

The Captain shouldn’t be so enticed by his snipper, and God, he tried to convince himself he didn’t feel a thing. She is pretty, he has eyes, and he is lonely, simple as that. But he couldn’t attribute the burning sensation at the pit of his stomach to all the whiskey he had downed, not when it only started when he paid attention to the scene in front of his eyes. He felt like a possessive dog, watching her laugh loudly at one of the Soap’s jokes, and the sweet cadence of the sound reached his ears above the music he didn’t recognize. MacTavish was a funny guy, Price gets it. He would laugh just as loud at the humorous remark if he weren’t so stuck in his head. His fingers turned white as he gripped his cup, gulping his drink away. He should be the one sitting so close to Y/N, making her laugh so hard her eyes crinkle. Not Soap. Not anyone else. She is his golden girl, what the fuck do they know about her?

“I’ll be heading towards the bar, have another round” Price spoke up, almost mumbling to himself.

He needed another one, that’s for sure. Whatever it takes to endure the sight of her flirting with other men. But was she actually flirting, or was his mind playing tricks? Could he know that with one hundred percent certainty?

The only thing clear in his wounded heart is that he ached for her attention. It was clear from day one when his golden girl skipped into his office lighting the dark space with her bright smile. Taking notice of her joyful personality, he remembers he thought how the job would ruin her. He was wrong: she ruined him. He turned soft; he was a 37-year-old man who blushed like a teenager whenever he made an excuse to talk to Y/N. It was embarrassing.

The loud music and the intoxicated state of his mind didn't allow Price's well-trained ears to catch the following footsteps, trailing behind in the direction of the bar. Sitting on the wonky bar stool, kicking at himself for letting inappropriate feelings ruin the night, his breath hitched when he finally noticed her small figure at his side. Y/N's hand, much smaller than his, gently grazed his biceps to catch the Captain's attention. Looking up at him with pupils so dilated he could barely see the color of the irises, she smiled innocently. What he wouldn't give to ruin that pure, sinless expression...

"Just checking up on ya. You are oddly quiet, are you okay?”. Her grin was like that of a Cheshire cat under the flickering lights. The snipper kept her palm on his tense muscles for three, four, five seconds before resting it under the chin. It was enough time to make his body feel like it had been electrified, and his heart was hammering so loudly you could hear it above the music. She had to know his effects on him; it could only be on purpose. It couldn't be just a simple, thoughtless act.

"I'm fine. My mind is just... on other things." He trails off, gulping as her skirt rolls up to reveal more of her legs as she sits at his side. It moved barely an inch, but the sight of her glistening thighs was like a full meal to the starved man John Price was. Especially when his thoughts started to become more and more unfiltered with each drink.

"Thinking about what?" Y/N urges innocently, tilting her head to the side and unconsciously exposing some of her neck. The soldier looked genuinely concerned about his mental state, but her captain could only think about covering the smooth, delicate skin with hickeys until the whole team recognized his ownership.

Price shakes his head slightly, trying to drown these thoughts. He felt dirty. And drunk.

"I shouldn't be thinking about you this way..." he snickers, turning his head to the front and drinking some sips of whisky. It's almost as if he didn't notice it was said out loud.

"This way?" She arches a brow, tilting her head again. Again, with those adorable puppy eyes, with that sweet perfume that urged the man to bend her over that very same pub counter, and– And then she leans closer, apparently to hear him better. An innocent act, as innocent as her, he tries to convince himself. "What way?"

No, she must know her effects on him. His mind is taken over by images of how Y/N would look with her eyes rolled all the way back while he pounded relentlessly into her. His body feels mostly numb, as if all of his blood went straight to his crotch. Trying to look away and calm down, he catches her gaze sparkling with mischief, bottom lip caught between teeth.

Shit.

"You know what that way means" Price's eyes trailed down, meeting her cleavage with dilated pupils. It almost made him uncomfortable, the situation looking too good to be true. A beautiful piece of forbidden fruit, taunting him to make a foolish mistake. She couldn't be possibly offering herself on a silver platter like this, not to him of all people. He blurts out, before gulping another sip of the glass "You are too young for me. And I'm still your commanding officer".

"What? I didn't say anything, Captain," She purrs, feigning the purity of her intentions once again. Smiling, she snakes her hand down to his, gently pulling him out of the stool. "C'mon, Price. We are off duty, so we better act like we're off duty, right? Give me a dance".

John could stop Y/N if he really wanted, but he let himself get led to the crowded dance floor, holding her soft hands in his rough ones. He wasn't a religious man, not at all, especially after all the horrors he saw in his line of work. But right now, he makes a mental note to thank God later as the DJ stops playing the hyper techno music he didn't like to give place instead to a slow, 90's R&B, he could recognize the low bass anywhere. The Captain watched with glee as his favorite girl closed her eyes and smiled widely as she sang along to his favorite lyrics. Five minutes ago, he would have told you a whole different answer to what his favorite music is, but the sight in front of him changed everything.

The brief wholesomeness of the moment quickly shifted as Y/N placed her hands on his broad shoulders, swaying her hips easily to the bass of the music, smiling up at him. Now, John recognizes it under the bright red lights: her smile is far from sweet and innocent, but tempting like the devil up on your shoulder that whispers the sweetest and wicked ideas in your ears. With that mischievous sparkle in her eyes, what was the point of fighting?

He was off duty. For one night, he wasn't anybody's boss.

So fuck it. Right?

Price can't bite back the lustful smirk stretching his lips as he finally grabs Y/N's hips and pulls her closer the moment she turns her back on him. The act doesn't scare her at all like she acted in Price's most lucid daydreams. No, in fact, the woman pushes her dancing hips against his, looking up at his icy eyes above her uncovered shoulder.

"Took you long enough" Y/N teased over the loud music, running a rosy tongue tip over the bottom lip. One hand traveled to rest on top of the one that gripped with strength the skirt's waistband, while the other moved back to his broad shoulders, incredibly tense to someone at the club. Price chuckled, not believing his ears.

"Took me long enough? Don't you know I work above you, you little rascal?" The captain teased right back, tilting his head down to speak right into her ear, the feel of his beard tickling the sensitive skin enough to give goosebumps, even with the heat of the night.

"Ah, c'mon, Price. I've seen you. How you look at me, always pairing us both together on missions, even if Gaz would be way more useful to you most of the time" She laughed, almost quietly, the mischievous smile plastered on that cute little face of hers. Following the music with a slow, calculated swing of hips against his crotch, she added. "I think you want to be above me in other ways, am I wrong?"

Goddammit, that was risky. And wrong. And so, so tempting.

Price sighed, his tongue pressing on the side of his cheek, looking baffled with himself. Accessing what was left of the captain inside of him, in this inebriated state, the Brit scanned the room, searching for any pair of familiar eyes on him, but instead, found his table full-on bantering about football or something that looked completely stupid and meaningless right now. This, and the crack of light coming from the back door of the club, leading to an alley that hardly gets any attention this time of night.

"What a witty little thing," John whispered in Y/S's ear, hot alcoholically breath fanning over her skin. One large hand rested beautifully on her waist, pressed back, forcing her to feel how hot his body was burning, how tight his denim probably felt now at this state. How desperate, how much he fantasized about something like this happening to him. "So clever... Let me see how sharp that tongue really is, hm?"

[saxlochapologist]

I really wonder if Saxon has had some less than ideal situations unfold the other times he's taken drugs. Like he clearly and explicitly did NOT want to get high that night and was obviously pressured into it. I'm so curious about what kinds of experiences informed those feelings for him! Does he just always become comfortable enough with himself to finally kiss boys every time he trips? Or is it something darker. was he possibly taken advantage of in the same way as Lochlan? maybe. and maybe he was alone when it happened, on his own. Was his night with lochlan some kind of fucked up psychosexual reenactment where Sax thinks he can "save lochy" from the same experience he had by being there and pulling all the strings from the sidelines? Is this some kind of desperate attempt to gain control over the things that have happened to him by watching them happen to Lochlan while being on standby to protect him?

Also for your consideration, is there ever a situation where Lochlan would be frustrated enough by Saxon's complete reluctance and inability to confront or talk about what happened between them that he...takes things into his own hands? like in some kind of chaotic attempt to create similar conditions to the ones at play during the full moon party? bc literally the only time Saxon's guards were far enough down for Lochlan to slide in was when they were both completely off their faces lol. Im imagining lochlan maybe slipping something into Saxon's drink at the next family event (I feel like Sax ends up avoiding him so hard post canon that they'd probably only be seeing each other at family stuff for a while tbh). Watching Sax starting to lean into all of his little touches, finally smiling at him again without the tension and restraint. making breathy sounds whenever Lochlan gets too close to him. Would sweet demure lochy even be capable of something like that? would he ever want anything badly enough to go through with an idea like this? I know this is twisted but I hope someone else is seeing this vision with me lmao please feel free to join me in sicko saxloch world

[peanutheaddd]

Hey, um. I already posted some thoughts of mine via tags on your most recent DM/Detey comic post. And um, I just wanna say that it genuinely, literally made me tear up. I know that's stupid because it's fucking DOGMAN. And please, don't feel bad, because I don't mean for this to come off as a negative thing. But wow... You've outdone yourself

Idk if this'll mean much at all (it does to me context wise), but media (art/video games/TV shows or movies/etc.) hardly, if ever, makes me tear up. That isn't to say I don't feel sadness or anything when it comes to sad moments, but it takes a lot for me to tear up. It's only happened once or twice, I think? I believe one of those times was due to a video game. But art? Never teared up to it before. Never... Until now

Um wow. This is all cringe so uh. TL;DR thank you so much for existing. Thank you for creating and posting. Admittedly I'm kinda. Going through it ahaha. But regardless, art like this has never moved me (emotionally speaking) so damn much before. So um, congrats. I hope life is nothing but good to you and your loved ones

Oh anon this means So much to me . This means So So So much to me . Thank you.

i totally understand w the not tearing up easily thing . i have yet to Ever tear up over artwork . sometimes i Want to tear up but i cant LOL . That means So much to me.

iReally put a Lot of my own thoughts into that comic about just. Love and Memory and Life and Death. Love especially. and how i personally think about it and how theyre all tied together. how i personally cope with how Scary death is bc im Terrified of dying .

someone left a comment on my comic that contained the phrase “no me molesta, así es la vida” (im not bothered, thats life) and Really thats ultimately what i was thinking as i made the comic . Death is just Natural. Thats life. And it doesnt Have to be something scary. it doesnt necessarily mean a neverending soulcrushing grief. Theres more to it than the death itself.

Yes he died Yes hes gone Yes petey misses him but just by the sheer force of his Love he still exists in a way just through every one of peteys actions and memories and thoughts . and yes death is so so So terrifying even if i remind myself its natural and indiscriminatory befause that doesnt change the fact that i dont know Anything about what comes after death and i never ever will .

but still isnt it beautiful how if u just love strong enough love with ur whole being then you can somehow continue existing despite not being there ? how ur very soul becomes a part of the rest of the world, just like in the extra kiss, or the generous tip, or the warmth of the sun itself ? in the extra chair next to the tree, or in the records, or in the folded corners of a poetry book . you can be just One person but if love hard enough and purposefully enough and loudly enough the worlds never ever gonna forget it . and maybe thats all that matters ultimately . “And love lasts forever and ever” from mothering heights yk ? “but its gonna change their world” from fetch 22 yk ?

in general this kinda thing is just a concept i think about a Lot and it means a lot that i was able to articulate it well enough to get that kind of reaction from someone .

thank u for sending this anon . peace and love.

[sk1nn1girlsworld]

@n4 recipes!!!!

Here i will add some recipes i make that are lowwww in kc@@@l. Will update with new recipes when possible :)

Im only mentioning cal0ri3s, because i dont really care about other macros lol. The cal0ri3 count fits my measures, if you want larger or smaller portions, you should recalculate!!!

1. Falafels

The picture only shows half of the batch. I was able to make 25, coming out to 19kc@ls each. You can have up to 5 for under 100kc@ls!

Ingredients: 1 cup raw spinach (27c), 1 cup dry chickpeas (295c), any seasoning you like (i used salt, pepper, paprika and garlic powder) and a sprinkle of lemon

How to make:

- leave the chickpeas soaking overnight. They will double in size, and add volume to your recipe!!!

- the next day, put all your ingredients in a blender and make a paste. Literally as simple as that!

- with the paste, make tiny balls, around a spoonful each. My batch made 25 falafels, you can change the size to what you prefer ofc!

- airfry for 180⁰c 15min, or make them in the oven. Enjoy!!!

2. Pizza

This recipe is posted step by step on my tiktok account: @sk1nn1coke

Ingredients: 2 egg whites (32c), 40g tomato sauce (9c), whatever fillings you prefer (kc@ls will vary) i used 30g mushrooms and 23g onions, parmesan cheese

How to make:

- beat the egg whites until fluffly, spread them onto a baking sheet. I airfried it for 10min 180⁰c, but you can also cook them in the oven.

- once baked, put the tomato sauce and the fillings on top of it. Finish it off with cheese. I didnt mention the kc@@ls of each ingredient because you can switch it up to your taste. I used mushrooms and onions!

- airfry it for 15min 180⁰c, or oven. Enjoy!!!

3. Lettuce wraps

Also on my tiktok! This recipe made 6 wraps, around 26kc@ls each.

Ingredients: 6 iceberg lettuce leaves, 1 can of tuna (77c), 1 hard boiled egg (70c), 100g cucumber (16c)

How to make:

- cut up the hard boiled egg and cucumber into small pieces. Drain the tuna and mix all the ingredients.

- fill each leaf of lettuce with the mixture, and wrap them tightly. You can eat them as they are, or use whatever sauce you want with them! I loved them with 10g of sweet chilli.

4. Sushi

This recipe makes one roll of sushi, which you can cut into however many bits you want!

Ingredients: cucumber (16c), 10g light cream cheese (14c), smoked salmon (96c)

How to make:

- use a vegetable peeler to peel thin layers of cucumber, and lay them flat, slightly on top of eachother to create a sheet. Dry it as much as you can with a paper towel.

- add the cream cheese on top of the cucumber, and then the smoked salmon.

- roll it up as tightly as you can, add pressure as youre rolling so it wont fall apart lol. Cut into as many pieces as you want!

- you can eat this as is, or add sauce to it! It goes great with spicy sauce!

5. Sweet potato and chickpea sandwich

This recipe can be altered! You can eat this on a bowl, if you want to skip the c@ls of the bread.

Ingredients: 2 slices of gluten free bread (50c each), sweet potatoes, chickpeas, vegan vanilla yougurt, herbs

How to make:

- when i made this, i made a big batch for my whole family, so i dont know the exact quantities im sorry. Anyway, make as much as you feel is good for you!

- cut sweet potato into small pieces and boil them. It should take around 20min.

- meanwhile, airfry or put in the oven your chickpeas for 20-25min 180⁰c. No need to add oil, just salt, pepper and whatever seasoning you enjoy. The goal is to make them crispy and crunchy. Suggestion: make more than you need for this recipe, and save them for later as a healthy snack! They have the same effect as chips or cheetos!

- once the potato is done, simply smash it into a paste and season it.

- in a small bowl add a little bit of vegan vanilla yoghurt with some herbs. This is optional!!!

- toast your bread and add the mashed sweet potato first, then the chickpeas and then the yogurt sauce! Thats all!

- alternative: if you want to skip the bread, put the mashed potato in a bowl, then the chickpeas and then the yogurt. It works just as well!

[accio-victuuri]

i’m on board the clown car for this one. 🤡🤡🤡

while i do admit that shanghai is a busy city and “the place” for anything entertainment related — it’s still sus and there are other bits that seem to tie this all up pretty nicely.

0423, xzs released episode 2 of GG’s Europe vlog. tbh, that was unexpected for me to the point that i forgot we were still waiting for content. tho he did feature his Barcelona trip more. i saw someone mention that there was a focus on a car tire which some were saying is a clue for racer 85. i was meh about that but on the same day, wyb flew to shanghai and posted about his race. what emoticon did they use? yep. a car tire/wheel. 🛞

and yes. yes. this could be a coincidence. there are other reasons etc. but for this to happen on the same day. as a cpf, it got my attention 👀👀👀

and now we’re here, the next day, 0424, XZ is in Shanghai. ✈️ Hongqiao International Airport. This is close to Jiading, the city where Yibo’s race is gonna be taking place ( Shanghai Audi International Circuit ). 30 minutes away kind of close is what i’m talking about here.

majority are saying that he is there for work. some are even so precise saying it’s for 3 days and he specifically requested for this time period. take these things as fanfiction tho.

what gets me tho is how quiet his solo fanbase is about this. that actually says a lot. even on weibo. i think the first and only shot of him at the airport was close to 10PM. that’s still pretty early for his big fans to post about it and even for it to trend on weibo. such a big difference to when he was seen in Wuhan randomly at the airport. tho i have to say, the one related to Wuhan, there was a pretty clear video. compared to this one in Shanghai, it’s a screenshot from a video. not your usual airport video. which leads me to think that none of us were supposed to know about this but somehow — we did. his so/os could literally pick this up and boast about how he is booked and busy like he always is even with just but they didn’t. because they know who is in Shanghai right now. they know what the two of them being in the same city will imply. and just a day apart at that. this is confirmation enough for me lol. not that they will be together or anything, cause no one can absolutely confirm that to us, but it confirms what we always knew. that these solos are nervous as hell and are sensitive with the potential cpns 😂😂😂

some are saying that xz wants us to know that he is there so he showed himself. but with the type of material we got ( maybe i could be wrong and hours later we get a clearer video ) i’m doubting that claim. i’m 50/50 on that. there’s also the rumor that it’s a 3-day work trip. that’s highly unusual for XZ. his time is expensive. his shoots usually only last a day. or maybe it’s a different kind of work that he’s doing. who knows.

now we are all rethinking that cpn related to a video taken in a previous race. so was he really there. 👀

then you add how smiley yibo is in the content shared. tho of course i don’t attribute this all to XZ. he loves to race. this is his passion. so of course he will be happy. but like, he’s clearly in good condition — and inspired.

i have a feeling that this is not the end of the story. let’s see what things happen along the way. whatever it is, good luck to our dear racer 85 🙌🏼

…..and to the cpfs who will be there, well, they gotta keep their eyes open for a specific visitor. 🤣🤣🤣🤣

-END.

GG is in Shanghai 'for work'.

It's just a coincidence. 🤷🏼‍♂️

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

hi ari :3 i saw your post about how suguru loves through service and geto loves through worship and i am stupid so . i am staring at you with my big wet stupid eyes asking you to explain how you view them differently and elaborate on anything you’d like to !!!

HELLO MY SWEETEST AWEA !!!!!!! 🥹 i’ve been so excited to answer this hehe… i was hoping somebody would ask ….. the teen!sugu -> cult!sugu pipeline is a delicate one because they are obviously different but still the same at their core !! suguru’s love is a very heavy one, regardless of which version we’re talking about — he’s so, so devoted to you. and i think a core difference is that while suguru (<- teen!sugu) tries to hide the depths of his devotion as to not overwhelm you, geto (<- cult!sugu) has no shame LMAO . he couldn’t hide his devotion if he tried. when i say that he loves through worship i really do mean that — worship is heavy, and blatant, and overwhelming. service, on the other hand, is a way for suguru to show his love without having it all spill out at once. they do obviously overlap, and service is a core to suguru’s being (no matter the version) but since his cult leader self is so much more blatant in his love worship suits him better. he wants you to feel every bit of his love. he’s spent too long bottling it up.

… so, basically, when i say suguru loves through service and geto through worship, i mean that his love comes out differently depending on what stage of life he’s in. as his high school self his love is subtle, and shown through acts of service — as a cult leader his love is all too easy to feel and weigh, and he likes to show it through acts of worshipping you, whether it be literal worship at-the-altar-of-your-feet or just acts of service that are very heavy in nature <3 if that makes sense !!! geto is a lot more black/white in the way he treats people, which makes his love for you more overwhelming and affectionate than you’d expect from him. it’s a facet of his transformation that i really really like :3c teen!su is more careful lol

[kkpaaw]

In what started out as art of Jay and Rogue quickly turned into a whole other au...

I really don't know how it happened I just took one look at the sketch after about an hour and was like, "this could be an au" and fate took the wheel LOL

Because of that this picture won't be finished so have this forever wip

SO instead of Jay and Rogue meet Yin & Yang, two halves of Jay split apart due to the huge influx of new magic as a result of the realms merging together.(logic is where?)

They wake up beside eachother memory less, knowing nothing, not even eachother. However they know they are connected in...some sense, and as such stick together and travel around the merged lands

Don't ask why Yin has a broken arm cuz man I couldn't tell you. My brain was just like 'break his arm' and I was too weak to resist

NOTE: they aren't mean to be Jay & Rogue. They are supposed to be JAY, Split into two halves. This is all before Jay adorned the Rogue identity, heck before he ended up in the administration. Basically post Merge, but before any of the shit Jay went through happened

Designs not final cut I literally had no plans for this when sketching it out. like I said it came outta nowhere

[nottodayupstarts]

God I'm so tired of these "takes"

1. “Zuko was absolutely ready to fry Azula during their Agni Kai...”

Yes, he fought her. No, he wasn’t gleefully trying to fry her. He fought to defend Katara and to stop Azula from claiming the throne, not because he had bloodlust.

2. “...and how he mentally kicked himself for thinking she wouldn’t survive her fall lol.”

He didn’t “lol” at it. He was deeply conflicted. Zuko’s entire arc is built around guilt, compassion, and responsibility. When Azula fell apart, he clearly wasn't fucking laughing, he was watching. He may have believed she would survive, but that doesn’t mean he wanted her to die. That comment he made was bitterness over the fact that someone who regularly torments him will continue to torment him in the future.

3. “In his mind she’s the antichrist who just so happens to also be his annoying sister.”

Okay, hyperbole, but even then, no. He feared her, was traumatized by her, but he also pitied her. That’s the nuance these posts often skip. Zuko never saw her as evil incarnate. He just recognized that she was dangerous.

4. “Azula who literally ends up setting him up with his future wife...”

This is wild. Azula’s “matchmaking” was a manipulation tactic. She brought Mai along to keep Zuko compliant, not because she was shipping them from the sidelines. She wasn’t playing wingwoman—she was keeping him on a leash.

5. “...dragging him back to the Fire Nation so he can reclaim his throne and gain favor with their dad...”

She brought him back to be a PAWN. She lied about killing the Avatar so that Zuko would unknowingly take the fall if Aang survived. That wasn’t a power move in his favor, it was an insurance policy AGAINST him.

This is manipulation, not generosity.

6. “...looked out for him at the beach...”

She mocked him INCESSANTLY at the beach and brushed off his emotional struggles. The only time she showed a flicker of humanity was when she said, “My own mother thought I was a monster,” and even that moment wasn't directed at Zuko, it was a rare crack in her mask. She never "looked out" for him there. She judged him.

7. “...and at the palace with the Iroh visits.”

She used Iroh’s visits to gaslight and spy on Zuko. She wasn’t protecting his relationship with Iroh, she was investigating on it, gathering information. Azula doesn't respect Iroh, and she knows Zuko's bond with him is a threat to her control.

8. “To her, Zuko’s just her older dweeb brother who’s cool so long as their dad thinks so.”

This is almost true, but still missing key context.

Azula's entire worldview is filtered through power and validation from Ozai. She doesn’t see Zuko as a "dweeb", she sees him as less. She’s always needed to be better than him, above him. And she’s only “cool” with him when he’s useful or beneath her. The second he threatens her position, she turns on him like clockwork. Agni Kai? She taunts him and throws lightning at not him, which he would've redirected, but at Katara, who he wouldn't have been able to save. That’s not a silly little sibling rivalry. That’s scorched earth.

People really out here rewriting Azula as Zuko’s misunderstood little sister who just wanted the best for him. Meanwhile, in canon:

Manipulated his return for her own political gain

Gaslit him, undermined him, and used fear to control him

Weaponized his trauma and isolation to keep him compliant

Zuko didn’t see her as the antichrist. He saw her as someone who's hurt him too many times, and that’s what made it tragic.

Keep thinking about how zuko was absolutely ready to fry azula during their agni kai and how he mentally kicked himself for thinking she wouldn't survive her fall lol. Like in his mind she's the antichrist who just so happens to also be his annoying sister.

Which of course brings us to azula who literally ends up setting him up with his future wife, dragging him back to the fire nation so that he can reclaim his throne and gain favor with their dad, and looked out for him at the beach and at the palace with the iroh visits. On the inverse, to her Zuko's just her older dweeb brother who's cool so long as their dad thinks so.

X

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

i think it is probably a sign of the process of healing from the trauma of having every word out of my mouth ripped apart, mocked, and treated as an unforgivable offense warranting Extreme Rage and Vitriol, and having it explained to me in excruciating and hateful detail why my thought processes and basic turns of phrase and the things i thought were worth expressing were stupid worthless gibberish, unbearable to listen to, and the root of everything wrong with society, by redditor-ass faux-intellectuals in my life growing up for being awkwardly phrased/not concise enough/mildly whimsical, that some days i'm proud of my meta and some days i can barely stand to look at it. but god that does not make the second one more fun.

[yourlocaloser]

Something about Viktor and Jayce waking up and cuddling in bed idk. I was sleep deprived and finished this at 6am in the morning after being up all night. So that’s why the lighting doesn’t make the most sense.

[starcrossedxwriter]

Media literacy is so deadddddd and it’s not even funny lol spoilers ahead cause I have thoughts on how well Sinners/Ryan explored race in this movie

What I loved about sinners was that it was 100% about race but honestly did not feel like it was beating you over the head with it imo

Ryan captured and infused the racism of the time in a such a natural way. And he explored so many complex themes well in 2 hrs:

- the politics of being a white passing woman and the trouble she ultimately instigated forcing herself into a space she knew she shouldn’t be in. How Stack told Sammie not to even look at her and he himself didn’t want to be seen talking to her because she looked like a white woman

- Grace being the weakest link (le sigh) and the general historical look at Asian Americans in the Deep South. And the fact that Remmick KNEW she would be the weak link and manipulated the one non black person to let them in.

- The symbolism of Annie - a black woman - being the only one to realize what was going on and Smoke actually listening and deferring to her even though he doesn’t believe in all the things she does.

- the complexities and origins of black music and how white people steal literally everything. The historical complexities of the villain being Irish, the reality that he did all this and kills almost? an entire town to essentially steal a black man’s soul and talent

- The lack of shock when they find out that the Klan was going to double cross them at sunrise because that’s just what white men do. And that they were prepared for it with multiple machine guns lol

- Even the not subtle internalized racism/colorism in stack using the term “field bitches” so casually when talking to Mary.

And those are just the things I remember off the top of my head lol some are far more subtle than others but even with all that commentary, honestly none of it took me out of the experience, it just got me more invested.

And what’s remarkable to me is not that he incorporated all these things. Because I think his catalogue highlights his thoughtfulness in every project. But that he managed to do it all without making me feel like I was watching Black suffering and trauma for two hours lol

Instead, I felt like I was watching a really well done, extremely engaging thriller that told a beautiful heartbreaking story about the supernatural, about family and love and music and home and freedom. With Black people and chose to lean 100% into the realities of what being black meant in that time period. And I honestly don’t think many filmmakers thread that needle well imo

This was a rant no one asked for and is not fully relevant to the original post 😂 but anywho, this is where my sinners commentary goes lol

people are dumb *end rant* LOL

Someone said Sinners isn’t about race. I’m going to bed