#which like. listen. it's very convoluted

[blueskittlesart]

is detcon actually good

no <3 hope this helps

[demilypyro]

So I reread Gwenpool Strikes Back and I think I actually like her "616 mutant origin" more now than I did before. Because I didn't fully get what they were doing before.

The inciting incident that starts the miniseries is Gwenpool discovering a new ability. It isn't very well explained in the moment, but it boils down to this: she can imagine things happening before or in-between the panels of the story, and if she then "flashes back" to them in her thoughts, they will retroactively become real events that really happened.

The best way to explain this is using the battle royale she organizes in issue 3: she imagines having set this up off-screen, and it became retroactively true. She initially didn't have a prize in mind, but just has to imagine that Tony Stark donated a bunch of money to be a cash prize, and suddenly it's like that happened. It became true retroactively. She seems to be able to just decide things happened off-screen, and the universe will agree.

As far as abilities go, this is absolutely King Crimson levels of convoluted, and this definitely makes Gwenpool a ridiculously powerful character, but for the purpose of the story, sure, let's say she can do that now.

Now, as we all know, at the end of the miniseries, Gwenpool has a conversation with Ms. Marvel. Kamala doesn't believe Gwen's claims that the Marvel universe is a comic book, and suggests an alternate theory: she may actually just be a mutant with amnesia.

We the audience know this is not true, and so does Gwen. She IS from the real world, and Kamala simply can't comprehend Gwen's perspective on her universe.

But what matters here is that while listening to Kamala's theory, Gwen imagined it. While unintentional, she used her power. She had a "flashback." Which made it real. Retroactively real.

Entirely by accident, there are now two truths:

Gwenpool is from the real world, and is a normal person

Gwenpool is from the Marvel universe, and is a mutant

Though this wasn't Gwen's intention, these statements are now both equally, irreversibly true, and always have been. And so, the Krakoan gate opens. The universe now considers her a mutant.

It's not just that she was accepting Kamala's version of events. She WASN'T a mutant. But now she is. Her powers changed the past. She accidentally retconned herself into being a mutant. Gwen and the audience both know that her 616 mutant origin didn't really happen, but as far as the universe is concerned, it did. Her power made it true.

I feel like they could have done a better job explaining this, but they probably didn't have all the pages in the world to spend on exposition. Either way, I like GSB more now that I properly understand what they were going for.

[ambiguous-avery]

When He Slides In...

Dean Winchester x fem!Reader/You | WC: 2768

Summary: ...And says “Fuck, I missed you.” After a hookup with the (in)famous Dean Winchester, you figured that would be the end of it. Too bad you could never seem to get him out of your mind. People always told you that you got attached too easily. And they were right. You were just another notch in his belt. He couldn’t possibly remember you...

Tags/Warnings: Smut 18+ MDNI, no use of Y/N, she/her pronouns, femme nicknames (sweetheart, pretty girl), reader is AFAB, oral (f receiving), P in V sex, PWP (Plot? What plot?), pining, pure filth because I have no chill, no beta we die like men

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for far too long. This was the title of an audio I listened to, and the line lives in my head rent-free. Plus I figured this would be a great birthday gift for our one and only boy!

The first time you met the Winchesters – and subsequently ended up beneath the eldest – was when you had called for some back up with a vampire nest you had found in a rural town in South Dakota. It was a routine hunt, but the nest had taken up residence on a farm with far too many places to be ambushed from. Thankfully, there was enough practiced experience between the three of you that the hunt only left you with several bruised ribs, Dean with a too-close-for-comfort almost bite, and Sam with a bloody gash cutting across his cheek. All in all, it could’ve been much worse. You had joined the two of them at a bar in town, eager to take a well-deserved moment of reprieve. And you left the bar with Dean. Just Dean.

After you parted ways, you fully accepted that it would be a one night stand, and your paths would never cross again.

Fate had different plans for you.

It was a standard haunted house case that pulled you to a small town in the middle of bumfuck, Iowa. Something something father killed his family when he was discovered having an affair before turning the weapon onto himself. And now he was killing other cheaters in the town. You’d have been tempted to leave him be – was he really doing harm by getting rid of those kinds of people? – if it weren’t for the fact that he would go after the affair partner as well who wasn’t always aware of just who they had gotten in bed with. It was a cut and dry case. Except you couldn’t find where the damn body had been buried, so you were having a hell of a time salting and burning the bones. The extended family had been so ashamed of what their son had done that they had buried him in an unmarked grave on the outskirts of town. 

You had just about hit the end of your rope when two very familiar Winchester boys rolled into town in a sleek Impala that purred like a kitten. And there he was. The one and only Dean Winchester, all swagger and bravado, and fuck, had he gotten hotter? Seriously, God hadn’t played around when chiseling him from marble.

“Hey, sweetheart, long time no see.” He grinned at you, his voice rumbling. 

Leave it to the grave-desecration-brothers to pinpoint where the cheater had been buried. It took several hours in the library pouring over a convoluted family tree before the three of you eventually found a living descendant and another hour talking with her and convincing her to let you guys go through old family books she had stored in her attic. Cheater’s sister happened to jot down which grave was his in her diary. Bleeding heart saved the day. You had ‘cheers’ed to that before knocking back your beer and excusing yourself from the bar with Dean in tow. 

Despite the long span of time you had spent apart, Dean was still familiar to you. The way his lips felt as he kissed you. The way your body seemed to slot against his just right. You couldn’t forget how he felt. Not when every touch of his had seared your skin and left imprints in its wake. Dean had ruined you for anyone else. Because he didn’t just leave his marks on your body. He had carved out a piece of your heart and taken it, leaving a hole in it that ached with every beat. Dean was a heartbreaker, and you were just another name on a long list of casualties. But you were on that list, and you lied to yourself, convinced yourself that it was good enough for you. 

“Dean,” you sighed against his lips, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“Glad you didn’t forget me, sweetheart,” he said quietly, kissing you again. You could never forget him. Could never forget the way his hands felt as they teased at the hem of your shirt before sliding up your side. Could never forget the scent of leather and bourbon and cedar that encompassed him. Could never forget the way he looked at you and you let yourself believe just for a fleeting moment that maybe, maybe, you were something more than a hookup in his eyes. Dean’s touch was a flame, and he was going to kindle your entire world to ashes. And as long as he kept looking at you like that, you would let him. Over and over and over again. 

He trailed kisses along your cheek, across your jaw, and further down the side of your neck. His lips left your skin just long enough to slide your shirt over your head and make quick work of the clasp of your bra. He sucked a bruise just below your collarbone then soothed it with his tongue before dipping lower. Dean was attentive, leaving no part of you physically untouched but all of you still wanting. His nose dragged between the valley of your breasts, leaving another mark there. 

“You’re gorgeous; I hope you know that, sweetheart,” he murmured, and your response died in your throat as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, toying with it with his tongue.

There was so much you couldn’t say. Couldn’t tell him how much more you wanted from him. It was silly. You barely knew him in the bedroom and even less outside of it. But there was an undeniable spark between the two of you that you couldn’t shake. An unspoken pull. Something that kept the two of you in the other’s orbit. You were doubtful Dean felt it. It was just you and your silly little heart looking for anything to quell the loneliness that threatened to consume you. 

Dean moved lower, deftly ridding you of the last of your clothing so you were bare for him. And then his mouth was on you, stubble scratching lightly, and all thoughts were wiped from your mind in an instant. His fingers dug into your thighs, all lips and tongue on your clit and folds and fu-uck. You carded your fingers in his short hair, nails scratching against his scalp. He groaned, a low and guttural sound that sent vibrations through your core, and your answering cry was breathless, fingers scrabbling for purchase on his head or the bed sheets or anywhere. The sigh you let out when he slid a finger in you must’ve unraveled some of his self control because a second one joined it none too soon. He curled them, and your back arched.

 If you could form coherent thoughts, you might have had the wherewithal to wonder about when or where or how he learned his talents. But such wasn’t the case as everything tightened. Your tension collapsed into a litany of moans and gasps, and Dean was a solid presence between your legs. He was a maestro, and you were his instrument. He plucked at your strings until you came shuddering around his fingers, your nails biting into his skin. He coaxed you through your release, gently sucking and keeping a steadying hand on your leg. Your head fell back against the pillow, chest heaving. There were too many words that threatened to be the next to spill from you, so instead, you pulled Dean up by the hair and put every word you wanted to say to him in a kiss. It was deep and longing and you tried so hard to tell him just how lucky you felt that you got him for the night with it. If that’s all you ever got of him, it would be enough. It wouldn’t really, but you could delude yourself long enough to convince him.

He met your passion, one hand tangling in your locks and the other slipping beneath you to press against your lower back to provide counterpressure as he rolled his hips against yours. Your jaw went slack as you felt the length of him pressed against you, hot and heavy and hard beneath his jeans. You tugged at his shirt, desperate to get more skin to skin contact. Gasoline coursed through your veins, and if Dean didn’t set you ablaze this very instant, you were sure you would spontaneously combust. Thankfully, Dean was a smart man. He picked up on your desperate plea and stripped out of his shirt before briefly standing up to strip out of the rest of his clothes. 

As he looked down at you, his green eyes met yours, and you could see him searching for something. Acceptance? Approval? Adoration? All three? You’d give him all of those. Whatever it was, you could only hope that he found it as you looked up at him, sprawled out on the bed and propped up on your elbows. You took your time taking him in. The cut of his jaw. The broad expanse of his shoulders. The tattoo that sat just above his left pec. Your gaze dropped lower, and you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip before dragging your eyes back up to his again.

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” you ask, a sly smile tugging at the edge of your lips.

Dean pounced. He yanked you into a kiss, messy and primal, crushing you into the bed with his weight. You responded in kind by dragging your nails down the length of his back, needing to leave a mark of your own on him so maybe he’d remember you for more than a fleeting night. Dean groaned low in his throat, the sound ringing in your ears. There were no barriers left between you two, and you arched your body up into his, looking for all the contact you could possibly find. His hand dropped down to your ass and pulled you against him, his cock frotting against the junction of your hip. You raked your fingers in his hair and pulled it, pressing your mouth to the side of his neck and biting and sucking there until Dean was cursing under his breath.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” Dean bit out. You released him, eyes locked onto the angry red mark you had left. He fumbled with his discarded pants for a brief moment before pulling a condom from the pocket. 

“Smart man... smarter than me." 

It was good that he had his wits about him because you were more than ready to throw caution to the wind. You were a hunter. You risked your life every day. What was one more risk? You knew you’d be thankful when your brain wasn’t drowning in lust, though. He rolled the condom over himself before kneeling between your legs again. He grabbed the backs of your knees and spread your legs wide, lifting your ass off the bed before settling it on his thighs. Dean took a moment to guide his cock into place. His gaze met yours again, waiting and pleading. You gave him a subtle nod.

Dean rolled his hips, sinking into you with slow thrusts. You audibly sighed as he bottomed out.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He said your name, reverent and sincere. He said your name. Not sweetheart. Not baby. Not some nickname he probably used to mask the fact that he forgot the name of the woman under him. Your name. You whimpered.

“Dean... I missed you too,” you admitted. But he didn’t understand the depths of your words. He couldn’t. He kept a hand on your knee, keeping you splayed open for him. You braced a hand on the headboard and turned your face aside, biting the knuckle of one of your fingers and panting into it.

“No, no, pretty girl. Keep your eyes on me,” he said, leaning forward to grab your chin and guide your eyes back to him. The shift caused him to sink just a little deeper into you. You squeaked when your eyes met green ones. There, behind the lust and desire, there was Dean. And for a moment, you could see the vulnerability there. The lonely man who wanted to be needed. Needed to be wanted. 

“Move, Dean. I need you.”

And that’s all it took. Dean surrendered to what felt good and snapped his hips, pounding into you, thrilling at the way you moaned and moved with him and accepted every aggressive stroke like you were made for it. He lowered his body and leaned forward onto his hands so he could drive himself deeper into you. His hands found yours, and you entwined your fingers with his. He pinned you to the mattress, caging you beneath him. You shouted in response, your legs clenching against Dean’s sides and the drag of his cock setting every nerve alight. 

“There you go, pretty girl. You can take it. You can take me. I know you can.” His words were fuel for the inferno that threatened to devour you. You were trembling. Aching. He was the musician; your body was the instrument. You were a violin string. You were tuned too tight. You were breaking.

Your groans and cries turned to fervent whimpers, and you fought against his hold as your release danced just beyond your reach. Your eyes fluttered shut, and Dean clicked his tongue, commanding your attention. You stared up at him, eyes wide and bright, drinking in the sight of him as though it would be your last.

“Please,” you begged. Your voice sounded so utterly wrecked in your own ears, but you didn’t care. You had abandoned your dignity long ago. “Dean, please. Need more.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He let go of one of your hands, and his thumb found your clit, drawing tight circles around it. “Come on, pretty girl. Need you to come on my cock.” His breaths mingled with yours, and your answering cry was high and thready as you lost yourself in him. Your voice, so needy and desperate, must’ve been enough to be Dean’s undoing because the hand holding yours tightened as he rutted into you until he came in hot, throbbing pulses that sucked the energy out of the rest of his body. You clenched around him, and he let out a strangled groan as his whole body shuddered above you.

He pressed his forehead against yours, brushing stray hairs out of your face with his free hand. His other still clasped yours tightly, fingers still laced together. You leaned up to kiss him, and your lips met in a tender way. An unburdened, unhurried kiss. A kiss for the sake of kissing.  You could’ve stayed like that forever, but all too soon, Dean broke the kiss and peeled himself off of you, his hand leaving yours. He stood, moving to discard the condom before grabbing a towel from the bathroom. You sat up, watching his retreating back and taking pride in the red lines your nails had left in their wake. You could only hope he would remember you.

When he returned with a damp washcloth, he coaxed you back against the pillow as he wiped the sweat from your brow, muttering sweet nothings all the while. There was silence between you for a long while, and you realized too late that your time with him was coming to an end. He had set you aflame, and now you would have to find a way to rebuild. But you’d do it all again if Dean asked it of you. But when he spoke, you hadn’t expected the words that came out of his mouth.

“Do you maybe wanna... you know... stay?” he asked quietly. “For the night,” he added. You swallowed.

“Um... isn’t Sam due back sometime... soon?” Why were you making excuses? This opportunity didn’t even show up in your dreams. Dean wet his lips, not quite meeting your gaze.

“Well... not to be presumptuous or anything... but I might have told him to get his own room for the night.”

“Oh.” Oh. He had planned on you staying with him? You were done for. 

“Yeah... Uh, nevermind. You don’t have to. You’ve probably got somewhere better–”

“I’d love to stay,” you blurted out. “With you,” you clarified, as if it weren’t obvious. The smile that split across Dean’s face was blinding, and it became your new life’s mission to do whatever it took to see it directed your way time and time again.

“How about I order us some food? We can watch a movie and cuddle?” And really, you were only human. A request like that from Dean Winchester was as easy to fulfill as breathing.

---

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[leclarifies]

THE NUMBER YOU HAVE DIALED IS CURRENTLY UNAVAILABLE (LN4)

꒰ lando norris x ex!reader ꒱

synopsis┊in which lando keeps dialing your number even after you've changed it.

genre┊angst (im not sorry)

word count┊ 2.1k

aria yaps┊remember how i broke ur hearts with carlos sainz angst for my first fic about him? YEAH HERE'S THE LANDO VERSION!!!!!!!! i know yall love it either way so, enjoy reading! very short btw, i just wanted to put something out for today

"where did we go wrong? i know we started out all right. where did we go wrong? i swear i knew we'd last this time." - lany, "13"

it takes three rings.

then he hears that stupid automated voice again, "the number you have dialed is currently unavailable or disconnected, please try—"

"for fuck's sake."

after he ends the attempted call, the furious typing is apparent in the empty, dark room. the artificial keyboard clicking fills the room as he tries his best to reach her. it's futile really, with every text he sends, the more agitated he becomes.

he knew that he shouldn't do this, that she was probably trying her best to move on, but he couldn't. he couldn't let her slip away from his grasp so easily.

"i just want you here for my races, is that so hard to ask for?" lando sounded desperate, he was desperate. he was a guy who needed his girlfriend and it didn't help that his girlfriend couldn't be there with him when he needed it the most, especially at times like these.

she was tired, he could tell, he didn't want to turn this into an argument but he was going to base it off of how she was going to respond, "lando, i can't. you know this. i have family here that i need to support, i can't just quit—"

"i'm not asking you to quit, i'm asking you to come just when you can," lando ruffled his hair so hard that it hurt, "the races are on weekends— for fuck's sake! why can't you just listen to me and actually hear what i'm saying?"

"i am listening! you're not listening to me!" she had tears in her eyes now, he hated it. he hated when he got riled up like this. it wasn't her fault, he knew it but he wanted her around him at least every few races, he hadn't been able to see her on the paddock at all this year and it pained him.

an exasperated sigh leaves his lips and he tries calling again, he knows she's not gonna pick up. he knows that he's probably blocked everywhere, but he wants to try. he wants to talk. he just wanted to fix things.

"the number you have dialed is—"

the next thing he heard was his phone shattering against the wall after he threw it across the room.

it was only two days later when he got a new phone and tried again, it wasn't going to go through. he knew it, but he just wanted to try. he wanted to show her that he was willing to make a compromise with her, just to make sure that she was there for him.

he didn't understand why he raised his voice so easily when it came to her, maybe because emotions ran high and he didn't know what else to do to express himself. he didn't know. all he knew was that he was a selfish prick and he deserved all of this.

he tried again.

"the number you have dialed is cu—"

he wanted to smash that brand new phone into the wall like its predecessor but he held himself back, he knew that the money that was needed to buy him a new phone was priceless to him, he was a formula one driver. it was pennies to him. all that money and he couldn't keep the most priceless thing to him, her.

he didn't care how selfish it sounded, or how convoluted their issues were. he just wanted her here, to hug, to kiss, to just comfort him. he had so many things on his mind right now and it could've been solved just by a simple touch and kiss to the forehead.

he was losing his mind and he knew it.

something akin to a sob bubbles from his throat when he hears the automated voice again.

"the number you have dialed is currently unavailable or disconnected, please try again later."

he fucked up, he knows now. she didn't have to rub it in his face like this, by changing her number and disappearing off of the face of the earth.

he just wanted to be home.

gentle knocking wakes her up from her slumber, it's unusual to get guests at this hour and on top of that, she wasn't expecting anyone. a huff escapes her lips as she gently takes the covers off of her and sits up on the bed. the knocks become more persistent as she begrudgingly gets up from her comfortable bed.

at first, she contemplates whether she should open the door or not but she opens it against her better judgement, her eyes widening when she realizes who it was.

"lando, what are you doing here? aren't you supposed to be in aus—"

she gets engulfed in a hug before she could even utter another word.

inhaling her scent after so long had been a breath of a fresh air for lando, he missed her. she's confused on how lando even knows where she lived. she had moved out of her last flat to avoid him on purpose, and now he's here, when he's supposed to be all the way in australia getting ready for a race.

his hug wasn't reciprocated, unfortunately for him.

"lando—" she was cut off by her ex standing in front of her, his eyes were glassy, puffy, like he had been crying all the way from australia to here.

"i just wanted to see you, that's all."

"we broke up two months ago, you can't just show up in front of my flat like this."

"i know but—"

"there aren't any buts lando, didn't me changing my number make it clear to you?" she folded her arms in front of her chest, her hair was still a mess from sleep and she was in pajamas, but her eyes were nowhere near his, not wanting to have any type of eye contact.

lando could only look down on the ground in embarrassment, he knew it was wrong. he knew he shouldn't have asked her friends where she lived, all of them had turned down his questions, telling him that she wanted nothing to do with him anymore but it wasn't anything a little persistence couldn't solve.

"is that all? you have a race to catch," she didn't even give him the chance to speak before trying to close the door on his face, but he blocked it with his foot, he wanted to talk. to fix things. he knew that things were irreparable but he wanted to try.

lando pushes the door open, despite her insistence of not letting him in, "i want to fix things, love—"

"there's nothing to fix lando, we're done. we've been done. what part of done do you not understand?" she was on the verge of tears, she didn't want to end it with lando, no, not at all but she felt that it was best for the both of them, she couldn't provide him with what he needed and he couldn't with her either, so it was best to just separate because why be in a relationship when you don't feel the love?

her eyes were still on the floor, not even daring to look up at lando's. it hurt for her too of course, just throwing away their year-long relationship out the window when the beginning of their relationship was so lovely, but now all there was is resentment and she didn't want that in her relationship.

lando couldn't utter anything out his mouth, he was stuck in place by her words. he let himself in earlier after he pushed the door open, he gently closed the door behind him before sighing, "we didn't even talk about it, you just decided for yourself that you didn't want to be apart of this anymore, you didn't even wait until my race ended before i could respond. how can i let it go?"

she swallowed the lump in her throat as she looked out the window, still refusing to look at lando, because she knew that if she did, she would start crying, "you just do lando. sometimes break-ups aren't always mutual, sometimes it's one person who doesn't want to be in a relationship anymore. it takes two to tango."

lando tousled with his hair, what could he say to that? she wasn't wrong. she couldn't deny the hurt and sadness that was in his green eyes, she hated that she made him feel that way but they were nothing. they've been broken up. by definition, they didn't have anything to do with eachother anymore, but she still had that care inside of her heart for him. after all, it had only been two months.

"just hear me out, and by the end of tonight, if you don't want to see me anymore, i'm gone. i won't try to contact you anymore," lando gave an ultimatum and she was fine with that, because she knew well that whatever he said, she would still say no.

she sat down on her couch, patting the space next to her to at least give him some sort of hospitality, wanting to hear him out even though she was steadfast in her decision.

"i won't bug you to come to my races anymore, i'll even help you with helping your family—"

"you can't throw money at this problem, lando."

"i'm not throwing money at it, i'm just saying that it's an option and you can take it if you feel like you need it," lando's voice was always pleading— begging for her to hear him out. he wasn't that type of guy, never. all of his exes got the same type of treatment, if they said that they were done, then lando wouldn't even bother.

he was a formula one driver, he didn't have the time.

but for her, he did.

she looks up, her arms still folded in front of her chest, legs curled up beneath her as she tries to find a comfortable position in an uncomfortable situation. glancing at the clock on the coffee table, it read in bright red neon numbers that it at 4:27 am, far too early or late for him to be here.

"we've had a similar conversation before, and i refused. so i'm refusing again," she sighs before meeting lando's eyes for the second time tonight, "i don't understand why you would want to keep this relationship. it doesn't benefit you for dating a poor girl."

"do you really think i care about your financial status?" lando asked, almost if it the thought of him caring about his (ex)girlfriend's financial status was ridiculous. he didn't care, it's the way she made him feel for the entirety of last year. she made him feel whole, like even if the world was against him, she would still be there.

she was used to men coming into her life who could think that they could "save" her and lando was no different to all of those other men. sure, she was definitely struggling trying to pay for her younger siblings education while working and pursuing her degree at the same time but that doesn't mean she was a damsel in distress and she expressed that to lando.

lando closed his eyes in frustration, "no, i didn't mean it like that—"

"well you sure as hell worded it like that," she looks away from him yet again, refusing to meet his eyes again until he had to leave. her eyes were glued to the window that overlooked the city, it was beautiful, calming— peaceful even, "i'm not changing my mind lando, we're worlds apart. i don't need you helping me, i can take care of myself."

with that, lando bit his lip and she ushers him out of her flat.

it had been months since lando's seen her, but he never forgot. he couldn't. the way she smelt, the way she laughed, everything still stuck in his brain as he continued his career.

the world didn't revolve around him, so the show must go on.

calling her old number had also become routine, almost an obsession. every finish, every weekend, anything that had to do with his career, lando would try and call her and tell her how his races were going, as if he wasn't talking to an automated robot on the other end of the line. the automated voice was practically his best friend because he's heard the damn voice so many times.

"the number you have dialed is currently unavailable or disconnected. please try again later."

and try again later he would.

he didn't understand himself, was it an obsession or was it the comfort that it gave him when he dialed her number? he didn't know. but sometimes he would hold up that phone to his ear and talk as if she was on the other end of the line, even though lando knew that there was no one waiting on the other line for him, not anymore.

but, the show must go on, right?

[mxrcurysb1tch]

Rating my astrology placements (and yours... maybe)

Inspired by @abyssalfaith

Cancer venus- 8/10 I feel like I feel this one quite strongly. I fall in love (or the idea of it lol) quite quickly and I can really romanticise people. I can't always tell if I am in love with someone or just really admire them platonically, which is a bit confusing ngl. I can never have a crush on more than one person at once. I have so much empathy and love for my friends and I'd genuinely do anything for them. I think there is so much beauty in longing and just emotions in general. ALSO I am obsessed with the friends to lovers trope.

Gemini rising- 9/10 Honestly if it wasn't for this placement I'd be the biggest freaking recluse ever. I literally have to give my opinion/share my experiences on everything especially online lol. I find socialising very exciting. My mind is all over the place and I have so many conflicting thoughts at once. Very adaptable, good at blending in with social situations. Having a broad knowledge of a lot of things is helpful too but sometimes I struggle when it gets too specific. I luuuurve being percieved as witty and funny. Sometimes I find it difficult to calm down or to focus on one thing. ALWAYS losing, dropping, forgetting stuff. INDECISIVE AF and childish in a good way.

4h Stellium- (sun, mars, mercury, jupiter) 6/10 Honestly have a love/hate thing with this one. I have such a weird relationship w/ my family, especially extended family. I love my home and I feel deeply connected to it, especially that I've lived in the same house all my life. My home is a sanctury to me and I want it to be as cozy as possible. Being an only child, it has always been my dream to grow up and have a fairly big family, 3-4 kids.

Capricorn moon- 7/10 Sometimes I wish I was more able to be soft. I am very nurturing but in my own way. So loyal and steady and reliable and strong but people don't always appreciate these things. Emotional nurturance growing up was almost non existent. Very sensitive underneath. This placement is kind of like an armour. I have to say though, although I am very dedicated to my work and use it to avoid my feelings, I have never met a capricorn moon that wants a corporate job and is the stereotypical 'workaholic'. We're actually susceptible to getting burnt out pretty easily. Very cautious even when I was a kid, hate taking risks. The pessimistic thing is absolutely true though, we're just good at hiding it.

2h venus and saturn- 8/10 I have never really had to worry about money which is great. Tricky relationship w/ food for most of my life but I really do love it and use it as a comfort.

8h moon- 5/10 This is a placement that everyone knows sucks. And yeah it kinda does especially as a child. Financial and physical support, big inheritance from family but basically no emotional support at all (+ capricorn so you can imagine). Guilt and other very heavy emotions imposed by family. BUT I do feel like this is a very baddass placement. I can feel the energy of people and places without even having the words to describe it. I have become very good at knowing who is good for me and who is not. I can always see things coming ages before it happens. Doesn't mean I listen to it though LOL so I am always disappointed but never surprised.

Leo mercury (retrograde) 6/10 Oh man. Having mercury retrograde is interesting. Leo mercuries are funny and bright and communicate with 'flare' I feel like. And while I do this to a certain extent, it can get a bit convoluted along the way. I am a pretty entertaining storyteller, I talk fast, I am pretty dramatic (outwardly at least) and I love making people laugh and love talking. I dislike small talk, I just kind of find it boring and pointless and kind of uncomfortable at times but I can do it fairly well, its not like I don't know how to, I would just prefer not to. (I feel like being a gemini rising kind of counteracts some of the issues I have with mercury being rx in my chart). Im very introspective but I think about myself way too much, too much internal jumbled dialogue, like pls just SHUT UP. Growing up I LOVED being on stage and I would still probably be doing it had life not taken me down a different path.

[nipuni]

We are all caught up with Doctor Who!!! We were five episodes behind with all the travelling and family visiting but we did a DW marathon and MAN WHAT WAS THAT!!! We were not expecting that finale at all LMAO going to share our thoughts about it under the cut for spoilers at the end of the post!

In other news my family flew back to Argentina a couple of days ago so we are back to normal schedule, meaning I have a lot of art to post and a lot of games to play, and by that I mean mostly Clair Obscur!! Been dying to start it, I've heard so many great things about it and I feel I'm going to love it so I'm excited!!

Now DW thoughts!

My favorite episodes this season were "The Well" and "The Story & the Engine" Even though I don't think The Well needed to be a Midnight sequel and could have stood on it's own I'm not too bothered and I'm a big fan of cosmic horror and sci-fi episodes so I'm biased. And the Story and the Engine, absolutely gorgeous visuals and themes, the characters too just consistent and great all around. Joy the the world was also fun, I love the concept of the Time Hotel. I miss the monster of the week self contained episodes I think we need more of those!!! As for the other episodes I think some were fun to watch and aesthetically so impressive but I kept getting distracted by the convoluted and questionable politics, what in the Kerblam was going on with the messaging lmao!! what's with the protester turns terrorist villain theme? the conservative podcaster arc? the Eurovision power of song fixes racism and genocide? I'm trying so hard not to read much into it because it's infuriating I'm going to bite someone. I also don't like the portrayal of UNIT in these seasons, or UNIT in general tbh but that aside, what are we doinggggg 😭

Now for the final episodes I have so many thoughts. The Belinda character assassination was so rough and unnecessary, every Ruby appearance and role in this season could have been Belinda's I really don't know why we needed to bring Ruby back so soon if at all? The ending felt and was confirmed by RTD to be very last minute and you can tell the exact point at which they knew that Ncuti had to leave and pivoted the narrative but I still feel it could have been done so much better. Did we really need to give Belinda a motherhood plot one episode after we established this as a nightmare scenario in a 1984-esque world, and put her in a box for the entire episode hello? Now this is very personal and not an objective critique of the plot but I really dislike stories about babies to an irrational degree so I was not very happy about that whole debacle in the end and so much of 15th's run having something to do with babies and family aaaaaa But!! I also have a feeling that there is something bigger going on with this recurring theme that has yet to be resolved, and it probably leads to Susan so I'll wait it out.

That reveal in the end!! 15th deserved a 3rd season, the seasons are already so short now there is not enough time for full character arcs please!! I understand that Ncuti had to leave for work reasons apparently? but this felt so sudden and jarring!! and listen I don't think Billie is going to be the 16th doctor, she was not introduced as such in the credits and her posts about it on social media are also very vague so I'm pretty sure she's some version of Rose / Bad Wolf and she is going to be only in the specials acting as a sort of in between like the 14th doctor for another arc of closure (I also feel David and Billie are Russel's panic button when something goes awry in production and they need someone to step in to fill in the gaps lmao )

ALSO!! I think reality is still altered for a reason that we will eventually find out once we deal with the whole Pantheon. Maybe I'm being too hopeful lmao but I think those little changes left like the color Teal, the border between Sweden and Norway (Bad Wolf bay?), Mavity, the Poppy focus and flower motif, Ruby's memory and overall mystery, Susan's messages and the focus on family and The Doctor's lineage. I don't know it all feels like it's wanting to go somewhere and I'm hoping it does and Russel can land it better this time along with The Boss and the remaining Rani (speaking of her, why didn't Omega eat the other half instead!!! I wanted to see more of Archie Panjabi come on!!! she was so good) and uuhh Rogue in superhell or whatever. But also I tend to read too much into things and trust the writing promises and then get disappointed so we will see uughh 😭🤞

That being said!! BILLIE BILLIE BILLIE BILLEIIEIFJIEIGHAIOFH MY GIRL MY GIRL AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HELLOOOOO ❤️❤️❤️ I'm playing with 14th and whoever Billie is now like dolls in my mind, I can't wait to see where this goes. I'm here for it!!! I'd be fine with her being 16th too honestly!! I don't care!!! nostalgia bait fan service perhaps but I'm the fan being serviced baby let's goooo

[boasamishipper]

Christopher McQuarrie: In that first test, when I walked into that theater in Paramus, New Jersey, I turned to my wife and I said, This is not a test of the movie for me. This is a test of the audience. Because the audience can quite rightly reject this ending. 15 year old boys can quite easily reject this ending. I'm waiting for the cards that say there's just too much fucking talking at the end of the movie, that voiceover. It's just like, you know, we just want to see people kick ass. And they embraced it. I came away from the first test knowing, you know, first act was still a real struggle. But I was quite moved. I was because I really felt with Dead Reckoning I'd lost my connection to the audience. I understand every movie I make is flawed. I understand, I've been there. There are very few movies that aren't but I was, and there are things that just kill me with Dead Reckoning that we just - because with these movies you don't just make a plan and go shoot the plan. You're wrestling with these movies all the time. You're struggling and you're fighting with them and you're pushing and you're pulling and it's pushing and pulling you....

And no Mission: Impossible doesn't have some level of flaw. It doesn't have some level of convolution. That's all because of the ambitions of this movie. The shit that works in the movie works because of the shit that doesn't. And so when I walked into that theater, I knew, and I accepted that the audience could reject this ending. And I knew there was no arguing with that. If all those people in Paramus, New Jersey, had said What the fuck is this, it'd be gone. You'd never have seen it. I didn't know what I would put in its place. I didn't know what it would put in its place. And I didn't know if I'd ever make a movie again. Because it contains within it things that I felt were important to say and more importantly things that were important to feel and say. And when the audience embraced it, I was - I knew - I knew this journey had been worth it. And I knew, I knew I was. I knew I still had a future.

That didn't mean that the movie was a slam dunk. It didn't - I didn't go out like, Yeah, now everything's working. I was just like, Thank God they accepted this. I was so grateful. I had such gratitude that the audience accepted it and accepted it in such half-baked form at that stage. That was like, that's what got me through it. That got me through a very very very difficult post: the fact that they're hearing it, they're actually listening. And you know I've been talking to you [Chris Hewitt] for years about how the audience isn't listening and I don't trust them to listen to the dialogue and I don't trust them to respond emotionally to words, nor have I expected to since everything post The Usual Suspects, which is entirely about words, it's essentially a stage play. I've gotten further and further away from my reliance on the word as an emotional conveyance.

And i remember very distinctly when I read Tom that ending - which was at that point the denouement, not the coda. And when I read him that ending….[I saw] how it hit him because he's really my………..you know Tom will not feel something he doesn't feel. Tom won't talk himself into feeling something. Eddie [Hamilton] won't talk himself into feeling something. If those guys don't feel it, it doesn't work, and it's never going to. And movie-making a lot of times is you talking yourself into shit just 'cause you gotta, you just want to finish. You just want to make your day and you just want to get out of here. And you reach what Ed Zwick's called 'the great fuck-it'. These guys don't have that. They just don't have it. So that became - so those stakes and that emotionality and all of those things that are at the end of the movie are there because of that and are really there because of - you know, if you're listening to this and you were sitting in that test audience in Paramus, New Jersey, once upon a time: thank you. Thank you for believing in the movie.

[Empire Spoiler Special - Christopher McQuarrie On Mission: Impossible - The Final Reckoning (Part One), 36:06 - 41:22]

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

2.3k words- wanderer comes with you on a job. things are likely to go up in smoke.

"this. was such a stupid idea." wanderer hisses from his spot beside you. back pushed against a well-aged stone wall, his hat in his hands since the obscenely round headwear makes hiding behind a wall a very convoluted endeavor.

you, who was standing nearest to the corner of the wall, peaking around it every so often swiveled your chin towards him and brought your finger up to your mouth to harshly shush him.

"i didn't ask for you to come. you invited yourself!" you hiss quietly back at him. the veins in his forehead from your return fire felt like they were around to fry and malfunction.

"no," he rebuttals, "buer insisted." which was... half true.

nahida had caught wind of a very interesting commission posted on behalf of the adventurers' guild on treasure street. something involving old books or scripts and she took a liking to it. 'you already know all of whatever's in those dusty tomes,' he had told her. still, nothing beat recovering the physical wisdom she already had so she could hold it in her small hands and fawn over it... so she claims. that's why he was here in the first place.

going along with whoever decided to take on the job beat out over having to endure her pressing gaze that lit his back on fire. the problem was that you were the one who took the commission.

while he tolerated your presence and didn't dislike you being around or yapping even if he was in a sour mood, when you were working out on the field- even he knew you were a reckless lost cause. did you bring results? yes. but you always found the most ludicrous ways to get there. if he took his eyes off you for a second, who knows what trouble you'd get yourself into.

presently, you and he had successfully snuck into the hideout of which the lost books were rumored to be. an old stone building that once stood as a small manor. the books were rumored to be in the last remaining tower on the east side of the main building; or so says the suspiciously detailed commission. of course, this hideout wasn't without its squatters. treasure hoarders infested the place like worker bees in a hive.

you both had gotten lucky so far. reckless as you are, he was half convinced you'd storm the place, guns blazing and just bull doze yourself all the way through.

as for what was going on around the corner, you were currently listening for the small group of treasure hoarders to pass by; or you would be if your hat wearing companion would stop nagging. shushing him between your teeth once more, you swirl your head away from him. annoyance bit at the back of his neck, still he obliged you by staying silent. one of his feet propped up against the wall behind him as he idled.

the chatter between the men you were both sneaking around faded into a murmur as he watched the back of your head from the corn of his eyes. the adventure's uniform was always tacky to him. apparently you thought so do, if all the changes you've made to yours was anything to go by.

"okay," you whisper. wanderer kicks himself off the wall before placing his hat back on his head with practiced grace. "coast is clear, let's go before someone else comes back around." as you take off around the corner his eyes roll before he's chasing after you.

for all his moaning, the previous nomad had no reason to doubt your skills. you were good as what you did. it was just always more trouble than it's worth sometimes.

with the same tactic of wait, listen, dash and repeat, you both managed to get to the tower and pushed past an old, domed wood door. the spiral of stone steps leading higher into the tower was so visibly unsafe, one wrong step on the wrong piece of rock would send a typical person tumbling all the way back down. of course, if that did happen, wanderer would just latch onto your collar and fly you the rest of the way up by your fabric scruff.

after an annoyingly long trip up in upward circles, you come to another door identical to the one at the bottom. wooden, domed and built with iron latches. twisting the handle and releasing the latch, the door opened, and the scent of dust hit your nose.

you step into the old room that looked like a small library once a upon a time and waved your hand in front of your face to stave off all the dust in the air. you coughed on it as wanderer watched you with crossed arms.

"you're so dramatic," he sassily told you before walking further into the library. a perk of not needing to breath was not caring about dust apparently. your lungs were currently envious of his mechanical innards.

"oh... shu-t up-" you choked, following after him.

the library itself wasn't grand. it was obviously old. cobwebs on the ceilings and in all corners, layers of dust that could easily create a thick quilt if it was all gathered in one place. the room of shelves held so many books draped in peeling covers and age-damage. still, somewhere among them was the books you needed to find.

it took a long time, longer than you wished, and more battles between dust clouds, spiders, and cobwebs that you care to admit, but you had finally found what you were looking for. placing any loose pieces of paper into your satchel on your hip, you take the book and wrap it up in cloth before also tucking it away.

"i think that just about does it." you say, latching your satchel up securely. "let's get out of here before-"

the sound of echoed, rushed footsteps stomping their way up the stairs behind the cracked door of the library interrupted you. spinning around, you faced the door as wanderer clicked his tongue.

"you just had to go and say something dumb."

"why are you blaming me?!" you screech.

"there's someone up here alright!"

one of the owners of the rushing feet shouted. wanderer's glare towards you made you look away quickly with sweat running down your cheek. you were guilty of nothing that he can prove. he stomped over to you and pulled on that cheek, his fingers pinching the flesh as his insides whirled in irritation. "you loudmouth!" through your squinted eyes did you see steam puffing from his mouth?

the cracked door blew open and behind it came rushing in three treasure hoarders. a knife thrower, a burly man with a shovel, and an excentric looking fellow in a red overcoat. 'oh great,' you think.

wanderer releases your cheek as the three men rush in. he grabs your arm and shoves you away from him and kicks starts your legs for you. you duck between the bookshelves as they give chase. the knife throwing man tries his luck, his projectiles lodging into the bookcase just as you find safety behind it. skidding to a swift turn, you counter with your own throwing skills- although with a stray rock on the floor inside of a knife.

a satisfied thunk sounded among the scuffle as the rock struck him on the head and he soon followed it to the floor. he deserves the headache he'll wake up with. your small victory was short as you yelp when the burly man with a shovel swings it and you just barely managed to duck under the woosh of its motion. rolling away from him you run, leading him towards a bookshelf you noticed was unstable earlier. once he was in place, you shoved the shelf with your shoulder, toppling it over the man.

books pelt him before the wooden encasement pins him to the floor. it was just heavy enough to keep him down long enough for an escape. stepping on the fallen shelf, you hear the treasure hoarder groan at your added weight on his back before you were rushing around the library back to the front.

"hey, [wanderer]! we've really gotta go!" you stood still in the library and wonder where the third guy had ran off to. he was the one you were most worried around. the last thing you needed was a molotov being thrown at you. "[wand]-" your second shout was cut off by a blast of wind swishing at your side. once the wind blew past, the sound of shattering glass echoed in the once tidy- but dusty- library. followed by a plume of fire.

"stop shouting! you're just giving yourself away!" you found wanderer at your back the moment you recovered from the sudden burst of air. there was a rumble in the floor caused by his vision as a blast of air sprang up from below the third attacker's feet. it violently burst from below, lifting him off his feet and onto his back.

three knocked down treasure hoarders. nice.

soon, the stairwell begin to fill with more noise. more shouting and stomping just like earlier. as you look over wanderer's shoulder, your voice chokes at the remnants of the flame-fueled molotov he had blasted away from your earlier. this library was the best fire starter in the books! dust, paper, wood. it checks all the boxes. and now you'd have to deal with more treasure hoarders.

"oh, come on!" you groan. wanderer looks behind his shoulder at you. he wonders if you realize that you've grabbed onto his arm or how close your nose was to his cheek at this angle. he clicks his tongue again before looking behind your head.

with his vision against his chest, he lifted his free arm, flinging a slice of air through a small window. the glass shatters, falls outside to the ground and the open air invisibly floods the room. it only adds to fan the flames that were now beginning to eagerly eat anything around it to grow.

moving, and dragging your wrist with him, he jumps up onto a nearby desk just under the now empty window frame.

"don't bite your tongue," he tells you. you look at him like he's nuts before he's shoving you out the window back first. shoving his palms against the front of your shoulders. your arms flail before the view of the library and wanderer, spin and flip to the outside stone of the tower and then the sky. there's a second of skirmishing noise before the sound of wind deafens you.

wanderer is quick to fly out of the window after you. diving down in the air, he swoops his arm under your stomach, securing you to his side. your body folds inwardly due to be stopped at free fall and wanderer takes a full few seconds of levitation before blasting off away from the scene.

"are you crazy?! why did you do that?!" you complain. rightfully so.

"did you want to stay and get burnt to a crisp?!" how he found the audacity to argue with you, you don't know. "we got what we needed anyway!"

"how about a little warning next time?!"

"stop shouting! you'll bite your tongue! don't you listen!"

"I have to shout so you hear me!"

the way he is holding you was backward; your legs were at his front with your arms clutching onto the flapping fabric that dangled on his person. clinging onto him, you watch the tower disappear behind the clearly strategic retreat. observing as smoke begins billowing up in the sky and you wonder if you'd have to include 'the result of the job was a massive fire' in your commission report.

it would break poor nahida's heart to know that so many books were lost to a reckless treasure hoarder who though a fire molotov in an old library was a good idea.

when you finally return to sumeru city and write up your report, your prompt in delivering it to katheryn. you glance over to the puppet who still hadn't dismissed himself back to the sanctuary of surasthana to do his own report back to the dendro archon herself with questioning eyes. was part of his task also to wait until you had submitted a report? what was keeping him?

walking over to his side, you dig the book out of your satchel along with the pieces of loose parchment. you offer them to him.

"do you need to take these back to lesser lord kusanali?" his arms remain crossed along his chest and he makes no move to uncross them to take your items. your chin juts up a fraction as if to tell him 'are you going to take these or?'

without so much as a word, he spins his back towards you. you're about to give him a piece of your mind, when he talks. "give them to her yourself." starting off, he walks further up treasures street, and you were left there flabbergasted. was he going to make you finish this job alone? "are you coming or not?" his voice called from up the slopped roads. he was waiting for you.

'guess he isn't.'

you jog to catch up to him, book clutched to your chest, and he waits until you were beside him to start walking again. just before he moved to open the door to the sanctuary, you stopped him.

"thanks for helping me out earlier." he turned to look at you quizzically. "you know? for deflecting that flaming bottle? it would've sucked if it caught the job items on fire."

"it wasn't a big deal." he turns away again.

"i also appreciate that you didn't let me get hurt."

there was a silence. then, "you're welcome." it was a genuine statement. not a hint of sass. it made you feel pretty proud. "come on." he told you before he's walking inside with you in tow, but not before opening the door for you.

nahida was pleased at the newfound items she could safely store away after thoroughly studying them. but when you informed her that the rest of the library you ventured to in search of those items went up in smoke? lesser lord kusanali wasn't the happiest archon in teyvat about that.

a/n: you'll never guess which scene i rly wrote all this for was- also yes i put [wander] in brackets when reader was speaking bc he's obvious named differently, so its more or less a name placeholder lol

[inawickedlittletown]

Decided to rewatch S8 and I made it to 8x06.

Ugh. This episode.

This is the first time I'm rewatching it since it aired and I couldn't make myself rewatch it before, but I'm watching it now and gah the writing.

Under a cut because this got long...

I'm not even too bothered by the anniversary dinner. The woman approaching them is whatever in the long run...Buck is awkward but it's very Buck to be like that so that doesn't bother me. Tommy's reaction to it also not a problem. Buck acting like he doesn't know his boyfriend is gay? Writers WTF. This is the type of conversation that would be normal a few dates in not 6 months in. It's actually very reminiscent of stuff from their first date.

It's the way they didn't know how to bring up Abby and so gave us this convoluted way to bring it about and it's very clear to me on a rewatch that they're trying to make sure the casual heterosexual audience understands things. Like they want to reestablish that we know for sure that Tommy is gay and Buck is still attracted to women but also lets not use the word bisexual. And oh the shock value of it because take out the Abby of it all and the break up still works the same way...they did the Abby thing just for the hell of it.

It's bad writing.

The next thing that makes me cringe is Buck's scene with Maddie and Josh. In the past we've seen Maddie listen to Buck and maybe poke fun at him a little but always in a kind way and then she gives him advice.

Maddie in this scene is acting so strange (actually Maddie this whole episode is not acting quite herself). I know some people have an issue with Josh's speech about Glee but tbh I don't think it's that bad and I didn't the first time I watched it. I think he has good motives in saying it. My issue is with Maddie.

Her joke about Abby turning men gay, the way she explains to Josh that Buck slept with Tommy's fiance changing the facts entirely just to mess with Buck, the way that she just very clearly thinks Buck is being dramatic and ridiculous. She just doesn't take Buck seriously at all and when Buck calls her out on it she turns it around on him because as she says she doesn't think there's a problem. But it's not about if there is a problem with them having both dated Abby, it's how Buck feels about it that he needs advice on.

Josh for all that I do think he is helpful, he also does not know Tommy and shouldn't speak to what Tommy experienced. Buck voices his concerns that he thought he knew who Tommy was but now he's finding out that Tommy lied and hurt Abby and it's thrown him because he's having to meld those two versions of Tommy.

Buck doesn't think that Tommy will do the same to him and Tommy doesn't. He doesn't lie to Buck or string him along. He's actually very honest with him and that honesty contributes to the break up. Yet another way in which we see that Tommy has changed from who he used to be.

The thing is that Josh doesn't know Tommy and admits as much but he gives Buck some broad thing about glee and what the world was like before it and after but he's basing it on his own experiences and the queer experience is not a shared trauma...and he puts in Buck's mind that he can't judge Tommy and also that he should thank him. Buck clearly internalizes this. He also I think it suddenly forced to think about what he wants from a future with Tommy and he jumps at wanting to live with him.

Now onto the actual break up.

The whole scene is actually good. They're cute together and silly and flirty and even after the Abby thing is revealed to Tommy nothing has fallen apart. It's all kinda good and their conversation is actually great. When Buck says he admires him, Tommy seems to like that...or at least he takes it how Buck intends it.

This is where it falls apart. And considering I refused to watch this again until now I didn't really think about it like this until now.

Yes I think Tommy had his eyes opened a little bit with everything Buck said...but Tommy also could have ended the conversation at the point where Buck tells him he admires him and they could have gone to the movies and just continued their date night. Why? Because Tommy already sorta knows this and it's what's he's expected from it...he already knows this is Buck's first relationship with a man and that as such Buck must feel some gratitude for what Tommy has given him and he's clearly in his mind already decided that it will end eventually because as he tells Buck first is not last (Tommy, who hurt you?).

But then Buck asks Tommy to move in. And Tommy can't.

It's one thing for him to date the baby bi guy...for him to get feelings for him that maybe go deep but that are manageable. He can handle that...but moving in together? For Buck to dangle that to him and offer him a future when Tommy doesn't expect that Buck will be able to deliver it? That's where Tommy just can't because he knows it will hurt when they break up...but if they live together and form deeper attachments and routines and they become intrinsically a part of each other's lives in a home they share then that's not heartbreak he's prepared to face. It's heartbreak he knows he won't survive.

I actually don't see the break up as bad writing. Everything else surrounding it absolutely is, but that scene is heartbreaking because they both want the same exact thing but Buck couldn't reassure Tommy that he really did want for them to be together...he didn't even tell him he loved him...and Tommy needs more from Buck to be secure in thinking that in this instance first could also be the last.

I think we learn so much about Tommy in this episode and I wish we had been able to dive in deeper.

This episode still hurts. Tommy's face when he says "Buck" hurts. The way Buck is left behind hurts.

The writing is a mixed bag of bad with some alright moments. It also leaves so much open. I remember that night being optimistic because it is so clearly a storyline left open to be continued. Some interviews turned that optimism right around but without that there is no real reason for any of us to think that this is finished.

Do I think it was a bad idea to break them up? Absolutely. Do I think there are other forms of tension for them to explore? Yes. Do I think they will manage to give this story and Buck and Tommy a happier ending? I have no idea, but I hope so.

Buck himself calls his relationship with Tommy the most transformative since Abby. He misses Tommy so much he spends the next couple of episodes baking and wanting to reach out. We also know that Tommy wants to reach back out too. These are indications that it isn't over and I just hope that they stick to being a little cliche and following the romcom trope right through to the end where they get back together.

I guess that's where I am going into 8b. Hopeful, but not holding my breath and well aware that fanfic exists and so much of the scenarios we want for our blorbos will only ever be possible there. Oh, and I'll be shipping Buck with Tommy because that is definitely not changing no matter what the show does.

[scythlyven-art]

Honestly, because Percy comes from a very high class family, he probably knows how to play some sort of instrument (because children used to learn to play to entertain guests.) But no matter the instrument, he will take that secret to his grave because he knows Scanlan will make him play for him

He gives me the vibes of someone who would play a string instrument like a violin (and I’m not just saying that because I also played the violin at one point)

Or the piano maybe. I feel like that’s basic bitch answer though for a rich kid being forcibly taught an instrument (as if the piano is at all easy which it’s not)

I also get the vibes that if Scanlan forced him to play, he’d imagine Percy is decent but still very amateur but then Percy would pull out his little smirk and play the most jaw dropping convoluted piece and Scanlan and the group would just be left in pure shock and awe and silence just listening

Or Percy could give Scanlan a private song and when he’s absolutely blown away by Percy’s talent, Percy would lean in close and smile and tell the gnome that no one will ever believe him if he tries to tell the group about how good he is

[magiccath]

Distracted

tenth doctor x GN!reader

Summary: in which the Doctor can be very distracting

The Doctor was going on and on about something that you didn’t fully understand, and to be honest, you weren’t really listening. He could be talking about his grocery list for all you cared. Truthfully, you loved when he talked like this. His voice was riddled with childish enthusiasm, but he spoke with the confidence of someone who knew just about everything. 

His glasses were perched on his nose as he squinted at the screen in front of him. He talked with his hands, waving them about as he rambled on. 

It was hard not to admire him, even if you did so frequently. 

The TARDIS light emphasized his freckles, a messy map of constellations laid out across his face. You wanted to kiss every single one of them. You supposed at some time you likely had.

Sometimes, he would rake his fingers through his hair, pulling on the strands. You loved his hair, the spiky strands of sandy and caramel brown. It was almost constantly a mess, sticking out in all directions. Perhaps it was from all of the manhandling, or perhaps that was just how his hair was. 

He smiled as he talked. You loved his smile - they were almost always lopsided, one end of his mouth quirking up a bit more than the other. When he got excited like this, he hardly had any control over his smile. It took over his whole face, his eyes sharing in the joy. 

His eyes were always so expressive. After being with him for a while, you began to pick up on this. Even if he didn’t say out loud how he was feeling, his eyes did. 

As you watched him it was impossible to not smile yourself, the corners of your mouth tugging upwards. 

You suddenly became overcome with the urge to kiss him. This wasn’t an unusual occurrence, the Doctor was so kissable after all. 

You made your way over to the Doctor, stopping right in front of him. 

“Hello, love,” He grinned at you. Looking into his dark brown eyes, you could see all of the love that he held for you. 

Without warning, you gripped his face and kissed him passionately. You were overflowing with love for the strange alien, and you had to let it out somehow. 

It took him a moment to register what was happening, but once he did he relaxed almost instantaneously. His eyes closed and his arms wrapped themselves around you securely. 

You held onto him with unnecessary desperation, almost as if you were scared of losing him. Your hands clutched his face securely, pulling him closer and closer to you. You couldn’t get enough of him, frantically taking in as much as you could. 

When you finally had to pull away to breathe, your breaths came out in short pants. You rested your forehead against the Doctor’s, closing your eyes as you attempted to regain your breath. 

He gently brought his lips to your temple, planting a soft kiss there. His lips ghosted across your skin, barely making contact. Occasionally, he would apply pressure, planting soft kisses across your face. Your cheeks, nose, jaw, under your eyes. You giggled lightly, a soft smile ghosting across your lips. 

“Were you listening to a single thing I said?” 

You shook your head, hiding your face in his neck in hopes he wouldn’t notice the blush creeping across your face. You didn’t like to admit that you had been spacing out during his ramblings. 

“Did I bore you that much?” He laughed, finding the situation more comical than hurtful. He knew his ramblings could get a bit convoluted at times, so he didn’t really blame you for zoning out when he went down his rabbit holes. 

You pulled your head back out from its hiding place, your eyes wide, as you shook your head. 

“No, not at all,” you said hurriedly. 

“Honestly,” you mumbled, “I was just admiring you.” 

You cast your gaze downwards, not wanting to meet the Doctor’s eyes. You had been together for a while, but you still found it embarrassing to be caught ogling. 

The Doctor, on the other hand, found it incredibly adorable and endearing. The simple admission brought a loving smile to his face. 

Now it was the Doctor’s turn to overflow with excitement and adoration. He swooped you off of your feet, twirling you happily around the TARDIS control room. Your feet swung about, knocking a few things over in their wake, but neither of you cared much. You were both more than happy to love and be loved. 

Eventually, he set you back down on the floor. He didn’t let go of you though, his slender arms snaked around your waist. 

“I can’t blame you, I’m incredibly handsome.” The Doctor shrugged, a smirk forming on his face. 

[knaveumineko]

Umineko Episode 8 Blog: Miracles and Magic Are Real

In Episode 1, Umineko presented the reader with the problem of interpreting a narrative in which none of the events depicted can be unambiguously taken as real, and as the story went on, we were presented with new approaches: from naively assuming everything we're told is true, to accepting the scenes that seem reasonable and rejecting everything else as a lie, to believing that a proper interpretation lies in correctly deducing the author's intentions.

From this interpretation of "love," we might think Umineko is making quite a strong statement about the supremacy of the author. Certainly, this is the impression you get from Ryukishi's writing style, in which he takes on the persona of an overexcited fan of his own work, who very deeply wants to make sure that you don't miss anything he's trying to tell you. For a series that predates modern streaming culture, it was an act of incredible foresight to create a game that backseats itself. Also, Ryukishi started writing caricatures of a certain kind of reader, which is as condescending as it is funny.

But Umineko does not elevate the author as much as it may seem.

Episode 5's metaphor about the relationship of the author and reader being that of two lovers implies a two-way street. Like Battler, the author always writes with certain intentions in mind, but once they've cast their message bottle out into the sea, it's out of their hands, and they don't have any power to decide what the reader takes away from the story. Even Sayo has to admit that for someone out there to take away exactly what she wanted to convey and truly see her through her work would be a miracle. Ikuko's insults toward her audience were always at least a little tongue-in-cheek, and much of her needling is aimed at people who praise her as a genius despite her, in reality, being a bit of a hack. None of Umineko's authors are so unassailable, and the all-powerful Featherine is notably not the witch of storytelling or writing; she is the witch of theatergoing. There are, after all, two people needed to create a universe: one to send a message and another to listen and decide what it means to them.

It is this framing that necessitates the final choice being left to us. Choosing the magic ending means consenting to a fantasy that prioritises the message at the expense of the plot completely collapsing in on itself. From that point onward, questioning what's really happening is largely missing the point. For most stories, this would be jumping the shark, but I guess if you write a million words to justify it you can get away with it.

All this is to say that Tohya is a pretty stupid idea for a character, but in a way that I like a lot. He kind of feels like Battler managing to weave his way around the red truth with a nonsense argument one final time, which is appropriate, since Battler's moments of triumph from even the first episode have always been the ones where he made up an excuse to protect someone he cared about. In that sense, Battler has always come off as an inversion of the standard protagonist for one of these mystery VNs. If he was in Danganronpa, he'd be a rival character who pulls some convoluted stunt in Case 5, if that means anything to you.

Tohya's existence echoes Sayo, not only in that he is a man with a shattered sense of self whose practice of posting stories online is compared in the text itself to the act of tossing a message bottle into the sea, but in that he allows Ryukishi to reintroduce the big twist of Episode 1, this time applied to the whole of Umineko: the text being a fiction filtered through the lens of its author, whose nature can be understood by how they chose to tell the story. If you're one to be skeptical of whether Tohya actually exists at all, which is not an unreasonable perspective given Episode 6's conversation between Featherine and Ange on the question of whether she prefers a miraculous happy ending, then this version of the twist is particularly neat in that it inverts Episode 1's conclusion and frames reality as a story being written by fictional people. You could also argue that the name Tohya both refers to the writer formally known as Ushiromiya Battler and to the persona created by the Hachijo's to publish their stories (I tend to think Featherine represents the latter, rather than being a stand-in for Ikuko alone, as evidenced by her memory device and status as Reader referencing Tohya, combined with the obvious visual and personality references to Ikuko) which adds some more meta layers to him.

Previously, I wasn't entirely sure of whether Purgatorio was supposed to directly correspond to anything in reality. It seemed unlikely that Beato and Battler's red truth battles were written in the message bottles themselves, since it would break the stated format of a diary entry by Maria, and these segments interact with Ange's character in a way that I don't think would be possible for its author to pull off. I thought of them as a connecting narrative that exists only for us as readers.

Now it seems they can be read as allegory for Tohya's growing comprehension of October 1986. Episode 1 ends with Battler declaring that a mundane explanation must be possible. Episode 2 features him struggling to actually fit such explanations onto the kind of story being told.

Depending on how seriously we take Ikuko's claims of being able to solve the stories, we might consider her the source of the red truths. Umineko portrays mystery stories as something you should discuss with another person: Sayo and Kumasawa, Sayo and Battler, Battler and Beatrice. We can consider the ongoing discussions between Tohya and Ikuko to form part of Purgatorio. Ikuko even displays the ability to use red truth outside the catbox of Rokkenjima. I like the idea of her providing a stabilising presence when Tohya's mind is spiralling with possibilites, and quietly nudging Tohya away from an overly literal reading of the stories, toward understanding what she feels is the point of them.

Episode 3, I suppose, would be the result of Tohya learning of Eva's survival and deciding she's the culprit. Episode 4 ending with Battler's crisis over not knowing who he is and thinking that he might be responsible for the deaths himself feels pretty pointed, as does Episode 5's death of the person he most wants to tell that he found the answer.

Tohya's final story is the only kindness he can do Sayo after their permanent seperation: writing a fairy tale ending for the fantasy versions of them. Battler and Beatrice were always the same kind of being. Like her, Battler is an imaginary person, partially formed from stories of a person who lived in the past, but with later legends and the feelings of his creator mixed in. Like her, Battler carries the love that his creator will not fulfil, and wishes not to hold onto anymore.

The scene on the boat which concludes the catbox is presented to us not so much as a goodbye between Battler and Sayo as between the meta versions of Battler and Beatrice. Even if Tohya perhaps wished he had drowned before being brought into existence (his interpretation of Kanon certainly feels this way) at least Battler can follow Beatrice into the depths. At the end of ??? whatever remains of Battler within Tohya is reunited with Beatrice and returns to the golden land. His 1000 year wait was not for nothing.

[chocochococoffee]

man i really wanna write something about reverse cumplane now lmao

ideas ive got in mind (need a list so i can organize myself)

shen yuan is still a guy with no economical problems and a shit literature snob. he really believes he has better ideas than the pleb - the sellouts and other idiots who were projecting their imagined masculinity in fiction where no one else but their echo chamber would agree with. he writes for "striving to get better", not even for fun.

he publishes what he writes for free in a webpage where people usually pay for novels so no one even wants to touch it with a stick because "hes offering his shit story for free? lmao"

he is still a well recognized critic so hes even more hated and laughed at

his magnum opus is a story so convoluted in tropes that go from dark fantasy, political inquiry, strong from start main character and other stuff, that ends up being terribly generic - almost calling for a manhua type of generic

airplane is his only faithful reader - he is a guy who decided to grudgingly listen to his dad and took the economy course if only to get away from his family faster but with cash on his hands. he reads shit novels in his free time and oh god this might be the worst one but its free so whatever

airplane decides that cucumber-bro (why use a slutty account name if he is unable to write anything else than fade to black sex????) is not only bad at writing but also his own worst critic because hes blind as fuck about his own failures so he decides to spam all his chapters with encouragements "subtly" tampered with criticism. if anything that would anger him enough to give his own work a second critical read

it works, but not in the way he expects. cucumbers starts messaging him with actual lengthy reaponses to his comments. all befuddled, angered and with a promise of "ill think about it even if i still think i am right!!!"

to do an actual reverse pidw i should think about the actual storyline of shen yuans work, which i am very much thinking of being like game of thrones but shittier. if he was korean he would probably do a solo leveling copy.

if modern au then it would be funnier because their interactions dont really change much, shen yuan would still hit airplane in the head with a fan 😂

[tonydaddingham]

it was about the coffee

edit 24/11: rip miracle blocker theory, my love

but possibly not the way we thought it was. this is going to sound so convoluted but bear with me here (and big thanks to the anon that precipitated this theory, and major apologies that writing this theory is only going to delay my answer to your ask even further💕)

a major plot-point for me in s2 was this bad boy:

which i think we can safely say is a very op power for demons to possess for it not to come up again later on in the show? it's almost like a parallel to the book of life on that front - which is mentioned in the bookshop in ep6, but we've all agreed is pretty much going to be a major chekhov's gun in s3, right? well, what about the miracle blocker?

why wouldn't shax think of getting one either from furfur or from beelzebub when storming the bookshop? well, could be that shax didn't think of it. true - but i do wonder if something iffy was in fact going on in ep5/ep6 showdown, right up into the Final Fifteen.

let's start here: aziraphale has got some reality-bending bullshit going on, which i think is possibly just naturally emanating from aziraphale himself (im not wholly convinced it's entirely in-character for him to purposefully fuck with people's heads and autonomy) and perhaps the dancing/outfits/emotions etc is just the image he wanted for the dance, and his magic (?) essentially made it happen, so much so that he was potentially taken in by it too... hence why he was so readily resistant to crowley's pleas to listen to him about the danger? idk, getting sidetracked.

but anyway, then the demons come, and we see the below where... randomly, aziraphale's miracles/magic doesn't work. and there's no given reason for it:

soon after this, aziraphale opens the portal; one thing on reflection? that portal opens damn fucking fast. sure, the peril is high, certainly higher than s1 when he had to pray and practically beg to speak to someone... but if the portal is more or less for metatron's direct use, and the metatron is so damn busy, being the voice of god... why would he be sat there waiting for a call?

s1, the time between aziraphale starting to pray/dial 9-1-heaven, and the portal opening (excluding where he shouts to shadwell that the shop is closed) is just over 31 seconds. s2, from "hello, is there anybody there" to portal opening is just over 5. a very short cut-down for a retired, traitorous angel, regardless of whether they're under attack (which, tbh, would be in heaven's interests, right? for aziraphale to get Got?). the explanation for that can only be, in my book, that metatron has been watching... and possibly has been since the first time the portal opened.

anyway, we then move on to metatron arriving at the bookshop, and offering aziraphale the coffee. others have reported a miracle chime, and tbh i too can hear at least a faint, high strong, that sounds out of place in the ambient sound of the scene. video below, where ive marked out where i can hear it:

we know that aziraphale doesn't drink coffee. tea, hot chocolate, wine... but he's never, as far as we've seen, canonically drunk coffee. he must have tried it at some point, crowley likes it/drinks it, so why wouldn't aziraphale have tried it at some point? well, i think he probably has, and didn't like it. i think he tried to change it, in front of the metatron, so he could take a sip and not be offensive. but... it doesn't work. aziraphale's reaction is awkward. and metatron's reaction is smug. i think metatron has a miracle blocker.

aziraphale is not stupid. i think he knows possibly from that moment, or very soon after, that metatron has been up to something. i think he knows that metatron might have eyes and ears everywhere. i think aziraphale has worked out that metatron is not in fact A Nice Old Man, and knows it right through until he gets in the lift (which im going to talk about more in the aforementioned anon ask). i don't think aziraphale has been overtly threatened, because the metatron has worked so hard in this scene to be non-threatening. but he has underestimated how smart aziraphale actually is.

making the offer to reform heaven appeals to aziraphale, there is no doubt on that. and aziraphale is desperate for crowley to be with him - not only on the layer of wanting to be together, or another layer of crowley deserving to have heaven make amends to him, or even the layer wanting to protect crowley under his status as supreme archangel... but because if aziraphale walks away, without crowley, crowley has nowhere safe to go. the bookshop has been compromised, and it is no longer safe. metatron with his almond syrup has Eyes and Ears everywhere. when crowley refuses, aziraphale has to get to heaven, and to metatron, before they get to him.

i do completely believe that aziraphale wants to help heaven, and possibly seek any way in which he can return it to what he thinks or believes was god's original purpose for it - to return or make it into the place that was always meant to stand for good and justice and love. but i also believe that now, more than ever, aziraphale teeters on the edge of giving heaven a chance - or being burnt to ashes, literally or figuratively. idk about you, but i have a gut feeling on what option he, in this moment, would be inclined to take.

[kaiserposting]

Michael Kaiser, Alexis Ness — Dog Walking

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader/Alexis Ness WORD COUNT: 3.2k TYPE: Humor, Bad flirting (it's so bad I don't know if i can call it flirting in good faith), Bad matchmaking (there was an attempt), Rivalry WARNING(S): Canon-typical football derangement, canon-typical behavior EDIT: This got a continuation, yay. And an add-on

Kaiser got it in his head that he has taken a liking to you. This is great and all, not like Ness is gritting his teeth and clenching his fists and getting angry or anything, but- okay, he is.

An obvious reason for his displeasure would be jealousy, but that’s not quite it. Ness thinks it would be entitled and insolent of him to feel any type of way about Kaiser’s personal affairs, so he hasn’t even entertained the notion. The problem is entirely different.

Just like everyone else in Blue Lock, you’re… Kaiser-opposed? Is that the right way to word it? Anyway, the point is, your shitty personality is making his job really hard. Which leads the three of you to this current situation.

“Ow! Ness, what the hell is your problem?!” you shriek, after having tripped and fell. The only reason your face isn’t attached to the floor fight now is because you softened the blow with your elbow.

“I didn’t mean it- I’m so sorry!”

“You didn’t mean it? You literally did it on purpose.”

This isn’t how it should’ve played out, though.

You were supposed to fall right into Kaiser’s arms, but you landed about a step away from him. They even practiced this routine with the others! Granted, no one agreed to it and was rather subjected to it whenever in Ness and Kaiser’s general vicinity, and, no, it didn’t work all the time, but they were just getting the hang of it. (Thankfully, no one sustained any serious injuries, apart from bearing some mental scars after hearing Kaiser say ‘Don’t go falling for me now’ in a wannabe suave tone.)

“Yeah, Ness, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Kaiser adds, before moving to crouch down and help you with a smidge of concern in his expression.

Ness’s eyes widen at the betrayal. Kaiser is such a fake bitch sometimes. Not like he’s going to do anything about it, or even that he minds, but seriously? No shame or decorum is on display here.

You don’t buy it, slapping his hands away. “I bet you put him up to it,” you say, before standing up all by yourself. Then you twist your leg around back and forth for a bit, as if to check how well it’s working, before you eventually lift it high up in the air. “Listen, you tie-dyed toerags.”

Ness flinches because what kind of way to address someone is this? Kaiser crosses his arms, shiteating grin receding into a little frown.

“I’m at my most divine when scoring a goal. You see this?” Your foot is now hovering near their faces while you stretch. This… What is it? A flex? A display? Whatever it is that you’re doing right now, Ness finds it unnerving. “It’s what I use to score. If you did something to take that ability away from me, you’d get pretty bad karma, you know? Angels would cry. Believe me.”

Ness tugs on Kaiser’s sleeve — to remind him he’s supposed to respond instead of just stare at you with a blank, creepy look on his face — and, as filler, says, “You’re very, um, flexible.”

“Yeah,” you say, moving into an even more convoluted position. “I have many attractive qualities. Deserving of being a superstar ace, you know? Dump Kaiser. Pass to me. You’re way too good to play second fiddle, Ness. With me, you won’t be stuck in a Tweedlecum and Tweedlepee dynamic.”

“What?! You- you- you, you, you, yooooou-?! What are you talking about?! I’d never betray him! I’m not joining your circus, clown! Unbelievable! Learn your place already. You never learn,” Ness says in a jumble. For some reason, he’s more offended than Kaiser is.

Here’s the thing about you — you’re insane. A has-an-interesting-psychological-file type of crazy. A hollow-inner-world type of crazy.

A Ness-loves-it type of crazy, as objectionable as he is acting to your offer.

“Calm down. No need to get your panties in a twist over some shitty trash talk,” says Kaiser, placing his hand on Ness’s head, forcing him to lower himself in a slight bow in front of you. Finally, you quit your bizarre movements and assume a more proper stance, while Kaiser leans in closer to you, shifting his gaze in your direction. This leaves Ness to watch you two engage in a round of charged glaring… again. Which is always compromising, but then Kaiser has to run his fingers through his hair, too. “You’re just like a chihuahua that hasn’t warmed up to its owner yet. Your barking doesn’t faze me.”

Your eye twitches at the analogy, face scrunching in an ugly way. “The hell did you just say to me? If I catch you somewhere Ego can’t see me, I’ll give you the beating of a lifetime.”

Instead of responding in a normal way, Kaiser points his finger in your face, almost poking you, twirls it around in a circle, which makes you furrow your brows even harder if possible as you scrutinize him like he’s a lower life form.

“See? Doesn’t bite. Totally harmless,” Kaiser says with a lilt of amusement. Then he swings an arm around Ness’s shoulders and turns him around before pulling him along so they can get away from you.

His tone is convincing enough to give off the impression of winning this verbal spat. However, Ness can’t help but notice that they’re speed walking.

___

When Ness turns around, you’re leaning on the bench with your foot, elbow resting on your knee. He lets out an undignified scream, taking a step back, startled, and even drops his water bottle. “Don’t sneak up on me like that! How come you didn’t make a noise? What are you?”

Kaiser regards the commotion with not even a sliver of curiosity and instead grins after nodding at you in greeting. “Look who came crawling back searching for my company, Ness.”

“I was thinking about that stuff you told me yesterday,” you say.

“Really? And what thrilling conclusion did you come to?” he asks, with sarcastic emphasis on the word ‘thrilling.’

“I’m going to spend my points from goals on taking a day off. Come along with me and we’re gonna fight, preferably in front of a big audience that can watch me humiliate you. By the way, it's a duel, so you can’t decline.”

“Wow, you’re asking me out on a date? Since when are you so adorable? I guess I just can’t reject you when you’re being vulnerable.”

“No one likes delusional men, Kaiser. I’d rather embalm myself and then desecrate my own corpse.”

Kaiser appears to find this amusing or in some way adjacent to flirting because his smile becomes a touch more irritating, but also a bit incredulous. “Crazy fucking bastard. You’ve got unique ways of pretending you’re not into me, though. It’s entertaining.”

“Your mouth is like a dirty urinal. You swear like a preteen who just found out what sixty-nine means, worry about that.”

Kaiser stares at you in shock, jaw hanging slightly open. In your head, you consider this a huge win, since it’s the first time you’ve visibly put him off.

“Keep gaping at me, I might just take a piss.”

“H-How dare you?!” Ness lunges at you, and the only thing to stop him from strangling you on live television — sensational, you like it — is the fact that Kaiser is holding him back by the collar. You find the sight of him swiping his fists in the air vaguely adorable. “How can you say these things? Just in general, let alone to Kaiser?”

You observe him in mild surprise for a second and the sincerity in your expression makes it all the more infuriating when you ask, “Oh, you’re still here?”

___

For once in his life, Ness is being very assertive. At least that’s what you think while he drags you over to their side of the cafeteria, fingers curling tight enough around your wrist to probably disturb your blood circulation.

Kaiser pulls out a chair for you when you come into view, then Ness shoves you so you’re sitting, and Kaiser pushes it back in, causing you to almost double over the table. Ness slides over some kind of fancy meal you can’t even identify in front of you. Kaiser leans down, his hair brushing against you, and then he reaches around your shoulder to aggressively stab one of the slices with a fork. With a perhaps demented smile, he declares, “We’re going to talk about strategy today,” before taking the seat next to yours.

“We’re not going to talk about strategy because I’m not one of your groupies,” you say, picking up on the conversation with ease.

Ness plops down on your other side, apparently having decided he has enough authority to lecture you. “No, no, no! This isn’t working. Isagi does whatever he wants, Kunigami does whatever he wants, you do whatever you want. It’s pure chaos on the field! No synergy! It doesn’t make any sense!”

“Join us. If you’re not following,” Kaiser adds, his arm finally receding away from you, “this is a compliment. You’re the one best suited for me, which is a big honor.”

“I have a way better idea. How about I continue doing whatever I want, and by the end of this Neo Egotist League ordeal, you two and everyone else you mentioned sing my name in a choir?”

“Ungrateful,” Ness mutters, petulant.

Kaiser grins, mocking, but also intrigued. “Are you still hanging onto the high of that goal against Barcha? Your ego is unhinged and, honestly, you’re not doing yourself any favors. Your type is always the most fun to break.”

Like he’s any different?

The score you landed, though — the one Kaiser is referencing — was what sparked his interest. You jumped in and stole the pass Isagi meant for Kunigami, securing the point right under their noses. Then, you faced Kaiser and took him by the chin like he’d done to Isagi on arrival, and even imitated his introduction, “On your knees, Bastard München,” with inconceivable amounts of smugness.

It was… interesting. Outlandish. A first. Ness berated you and Isagi together, but you kind of walked away in the middle of it without a care.

Here’s the other detail which is keeping Ness’s sanity intact (not like he’s renowned for his mental stability, but): Kaiser taking a liking to you isn’t necessarily a good thing, even if he’s treating you differently than the other competitors. It doesn’t say anything positive about your character, isn’t in any way sentimental — it’s more as if someone held up a mirror in front of him and he began obsessing over his reflection.

“I’m big and you’re small. That’s why you can’t tame me,” you say.

“He’s taller than you!” Ness defends.

“Did the voices in your head tell you that?” Kaiser asks you, and he does not acknowledge Ness’s meager attempt to upkeep his honor.

“I mean it. You think you can brute force everything and bend it to your version of reality. That’s fragile. I don’t mind falling from a high place. It kind of appeals to me, actually, you know, crawling back up, but more beautiful.”

The corners of his lips turn up in a manner you interpret as more baleful than usual. “I don’t know if you’re big or if I’m small or whatever you wanna call it, but what I know for sure is that you’re a melodramatic jerk off.”

“Anyway,” you stand up, taking the plate as you do so, “you don’t think often, so I won’t blame you for calling my internal monologue a hallucination. You can’t help it. Bye.”

___

The locker room is an environment you find ripe for picking fights in. Especially when everyone is tired after a practice match. At least the place is free of anyone besides your usual targets.

“Ness,” you say upon approaching them — they’re always together, it almost seems codependent — and then take a hold of his hand, all beguiling. Kaiser scoffs, apparently not interested in getting into it with you this once, while Ness stares at you doe-eyed. “I think it’s about time you get some dignity.”

“What kind of opening line is that?!” he asks, expression shifting from bashful to irritated.

“He’s just been even more awful to you lately and you’re still attached to his asshole like you’re a part of the human centipede.”

“You made fun of me for swearing, but look at the shit you’re saying right now.”

“I do it sparingly and with style. Please stop trying to compete where you don’t compare.” After a dismissive glance towards Kaiser, you turn your attention back to Ness, letting go of his hand to wrap an arm around his waist. “Anyway, the point is, he’s not acting very appreciative of your talent. I could treat you so much better if you passed to me. We don’t even need to entirely exclude him or anything, I’m a tolerant person.”

“I can see and appreciate Ness’s talent just fine. He’ll stay by my side no matter what.” Ness blushes because that’s kind of an intense statement to make out of nowhere? Kaiser’s fingers curl around his jawline before he pushes Ness’s head into his shoulder. “And I’m going to add you to the roster while I’m at it.”

What the fuck is even going on? Maybe the delusions of grandeur you and Kaiser seem to suffer from are becoming contagious, but it sounds like you two are fighting… over HIM? A more well-adjusted person would probably find this objectifying or otherwise demeaning, but Ness, mostly because of who he is — terminally unwanted — wonders if he’s in heaven right now.

Then again, Ness isn’t an idiot. His ignorance is willful. There’s a cap to the nonsense even he is willing to tolerate. So he lets this feeling of I’ve-never-been-happier linger for a little, your bickering fading into background noise, before he squirms away from both of you.

“I’m tired of how you guys are acting,” he calls over his shoulder.

Kaiser is gawking again. You let out an amused whistle, as if you find this development pleasing, before forcing Kaiser’s jaw closed.

“Don’t talk to me… for the rest of the day,” Ness continues, before leaving. His resolve ends on a weak note, but oh well.

“What the hell? Did Ness just reject me?” Kaiser asks, slapping off your pesky hand. “First you don’t want me, now even Ness doesn’t want me. I’m sick of this wretched place. Everything is all out of whack here.”

You burst out laughing. “Are your sensitive little feelings unable to handle a few hours without him?”

“Shut up,” says Kaiser. There isn’t enough bite in it.

“I can tell whatever tantrum you’re about to have is gonna give me secondhand embarrassment, so I’m gonna go as well.”

You’re not prepared for Kaiser to slam you into the locker and cage you in with his arms. Some vein you don’t know the name of looks very pronounced on his forehead, and you don’t think it’s supposed to be doing that?

You roll your eyes. “Take the hint, your machismo shtick isn’t doing it for me.”

“I’m not trying to make a move on you, shithead. I’m sick of your outrageous attitude as well. What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re always leaving in the middle of conversations, even ones you initiated. Do you know how rude that is? No one ever taught you some fucking manners? What’s your home life like?”

Ignoring whatever he’s even talking about — it’s going in one ear and out of the other as usual — you trail your hands over his shoulders.

“Stop trying to distract me. I’m listing out all of your personality defects.” He’s not really putting up a fight, though, doesn’t even shrug you off when you move onto caressing his neck. “We’re arguing,” Kaiser says, before leaning in to complete the kiss you were trying to pull him into, and finally his hands drop to rest on your waist.

The contact doesn’t last long, since you take the chance to side step him and swap your positions, before you push him into the locker like he’d done to you.

“Little bitch,” you say with a sneer, and then you dash towards the exit, offering a flippant wave. “I leave whenever I want to.”

What the hell!

___

“You’re unforgivable!” says Ness. What did you even do to deserve this attitude right before breakfast? “Stop messing with Kaiser’s head!”

Oh yeah, you did do that. You almost forgot.

“Good morning to you, too. Sleep well?”

Ness crosses his arms and taps his foot. He’s not very good at being intimidating, at least in a visual sense, you think. He has a total babyface. “You’re going to apologize. You’re gonna grovel for Kaiser’s forgiveness.”

“Sure, I take hurt feelings very seriously. Answer these questions for me, so I can apologize better later. Which ear were the words of hurtfulness spoken into? Is the damage he suffered permanent? Did he require a tissue for his tears?”

“I- I- I- I?!?! You piss me off so much. I don’t have the patience for this.” Ness pinches the bridge of his nose as if he needs to soothe himself after exchanging a couple of sentences with you.

“If he doesn’t have a mommy to hug him,” you continue without much of an inflection, “we can look for a surrogate.”

With uncharacteristic vice, he squeezes your shoulders, and he’s gritting his teeth, and you think he really might kill you. Maybe not right now, but at some point, this man is going to take your life. “What’s your problem? You’re a nobody, so why are you so high maintenance? Kaiser is rich, handsome, successful, and a football genius. What more could you possibly want in a boyfriend?”

“Wow,” you say, astonishment at something indeterminate apparent on your face.

Ness waits for you to elaborate, but you don’t, instead opting to scrutinize him in silence. “What? Don’t just say wow and then leave it at that. How can someone be so difficult?”

Your expression shifts into something meaner, then, a mocking raise of your eyebrows, a lop-sided but meaningless smile. “It’s just kind of amazing. You can’t help but ride Kaiser’s dick even while trying to guide it inside of me.”

“Wh-huh… What?!” Ness screeches, scandalized. “How… How crude? You're a vulgar moron! Totally indecent! That’s what you are!”

“I mean, can you blame me for being jealous of that kind of attention? You can do crazy tricks on it.”

“Why are you saying those kinds of things to me?! S-Something’s not right with you.”

You reach out and squish Ness’s cheeks together, leaving his lips to pucker, and you can feel his skin burning. “You’re an amusing guy, Ness. I haven’t decided if I find you pathetic or endearing yet, but I like it.” Then you let go of him as casually as you grabbed him, intending to continue on your merry way.

There are footsteps hurrying after you. “Admit your love to Kaiser already.”

Love? A frightening laugh rattles you. Your body jerks upright and you feel like an evil spirit was just exorcised out of you with how unexpected your reaction was, even to you.

“I know you can’t resist his charms. No one can.”

Kaiser’s… charms? You knew it, he’s trying to kill you.

“And- and- and!!! You’re going to play on our side against Ubers, and you’re going to like it.”

You’re borderline in hysterics now, stomach hurting.

“Stop walking away from me! Are you even listening? You should really listen when people talk to you!”

___

Im still loopy so presented without comment. Feel free to tell me wat you thikn the worst line from this abomination is

[vrajitosarehaos]

Healed (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

summary: you finally come out of an emotional sadness and decide to go out with Bucky to dinner, without thinking about who you would end up running into.

words: 3219

A/N: My other blog where I published my one-shots (thewxtchwhowrites) was deleted out of nowhere without explanation, so now I upload it here on the main one. Enjoy 💖

You were carefully walking down the stairs and your heels started making noise as they hit the steps, causing Bucky and Steve who were talking near the door to turn to look at you.

Bucky looked nervous, and it was no wonder, the truth is that he had not been on a date in more than 70 or 80 years, with everything that had happened in his life these last few years since the 40s.

Steve seemed to calm him down, when the blond turned to look at you he had a smile on his lips, he looked like a proud older brother.

As you walked down the stairs you wondered how you had really gotten to this day, and the truth is that the whole series of events had been very convoluted and fun...

Or at least now that you were feeling better.

You had been depressed for a couple of months and it was because your boyfriend with whom you had been in a relationship for five years had broken up with you overnight with a simple message:

"I can't keep doing this, forgive me."

Your eyes began to fill with tears as you continued reading as best you could:

"I owe you what I am today. And it hurts me to tell you this, I don't know, I feel like I'm really screwing up by leaving all these years behind." Your tears no longer let you see, your vision was blurred. "But I want to make that decision and continue alone from now on. Maybe we can be friends in the future."

Bastard. You thought to yourself, it was obvious that there was something strange about his behavior after you both had your last movie date, but you decided not to listen to your intuition even though Natasha had warned you.

"I don't know, honey, I think you should be prepared…" Natasha sat on your bed and sighed, taking one of your pillows in her hands, and noticing one of the photographs you had on your wall where you and your now ex-boyfriend ex-boyfriend, were at a Coney Island fair with ice cream on your faces.

"But Nat…" You said while shaking your head. You were delusional, without a doubt. "We've been together for five years, I don't think we'll break up. He's just a little stressed because his business isn't going well."

There were times when your ex-boyfriend would disappear for weeks, claiming that he was busy working or trying to run his business (a music store that his grandfather had owned for many years) and sometimes when you logged on to social media after work, you would notice that he was still online sharing posts or tweeting, although he didn't respond to your chat.

Sometimes he'd leave you on 'read' or sometimes he just wouldn't seem to open the chat, which was… strange.

Until it happened.

Even the final message of that long paragraph of excuses had a rather late apology that said:

"I'm very sorry, not only for the moment in which I'm telling you all this. But also for what I've put you through and how I treated you, not speaking to you for weeks and then coming to you to write all this shit."

That last message definitely led to long hours of crying, especially at night in your room at the Avenger Compound, not wanting to leave your room, maybe just to eat with everyone or for missions, and then return to your room.

You were even more temperamental during missions, you hit harder, and you were even more reckless, which Bucky noticed immediately, he knew that attitude and hatred.

The first thing Nat, Wanda, and Maria Hill did when they found out was brought you ice cream and have a girls' night out, which ended relatively well, at least until Wanda put on a movie and the guy's name was your ex's.

A couple of nights later you heard a soft knock on your door, you were crying as quietly as you could, and you thought that maybe you had woken up Steve or Nat who were sleeping in the adjoining rooms, when you got up and opened the door, it was Bucky.

"Bucky?" You asked with some confusion.

"I… I brought you this." Bucky took a cookie out of his pants pocket, when you took it you could feel that it was broken. "I accidentally sat on the cookie while I was on my way here on the motorcycle, sorry."

That, even if it was something simple, made you laugh, and maybe it was the first time in five fucking months that you laughed sincerely and not in a forced way.

Bucky after you thanked him, he nodded softly with a shy smile on his lips and left saying goodnight.

You look at Bucky's face as a smile began to form on his lips as you walked down the stairs, it seemed like he saw the most beautiful thing on the planet and he even had a small bouquet of flowers for you in his hands.

As soon as you finished walking down the stairs, Bucky approached you at the bottom of them.

"You look…" Bucky started to say, but stayed silent.

"Do I look too dressed up? Is too much?" You said nervously, touching your hair and ironing your dress with your hands at the level of your stomach, it had been Nat and Wanda's idea to groom you as if you were a little doll even though you weren't totally used to it.

“No, you look like an angel…” Bucky interrupted you. He continued to look at you with those blue eyes, it was a kind, sweet look. You felt your cheeks redden and you let out a nervous laugh.

Steve raised his eyebrows at such a compliment, and since you had your back to Steve, he took the opportunity to give Bucky a thumbs up.

"Oh, this is for you." Bucky gave you the small bouquet of flowers that you took carefully, they smelled delicious.

“James, you didn't have to do it." you said in a whisper, looking between the flowers and Bucky.

You didn't remember that a man had ever given you flowers before, your ex in itself was not a person to give you that type of details and you, sometimes, didn't allow yourself to receive them either.

But for some reason with Bucky, the fact that he gave you those details, it felt different.

“It's true.” He put his hands in the pocket of his black pants, nodding at your comment. "I didn't have to, but I wanted to do it."

That comment caught your attention.

Steve patted both of you gently like a father and opened the door to the compound, smiling.

"Have fun…" Steve looked at you and nodded his approval as if you were his little sister. "But not too much."

Steve looked at Bucky when he said that last sentence, that was definitely a warning to him, Bucky just shrugged and let you take his arm as they walked to the motorcycle to Izzy's.

Honestly, you don't know how it happened, but it happened.

You began to spend more time with Bucky as the days and even weeks went by, first he asked you for help to play a prank on Sam by painting Nightwing as if it were a stingray and recording it to show in the group chat that you all shared.

Then you would help him with technological issues or you would end up sitting in the compound's cinema watching old movies while you listened to him tell you things about how things were in those times.

And maybe some embarrassing stories about Steve.

You discovered that he was chivalrous, opening the door for you and even letting you in first by placing either of his two hands just under your back in a protective manner. Even when you had to take something somewhere he offered himself, not allowing you to do it.

Including the bowl of popcorn, because he didn't want you to get burned.

You thought that sometimes Bucky was an exaggerator, but you began to notice that he did things that even your ex-boyfriend had stopped doing after being together for a while.

When you and Bucky went out on the street, he always offered you his right arm, since he felt a little insecure offering you his left arm, the mechanical one. However, that insecurity started to disappear and then he didn't care which arm you grabbed as long as you held his arm when you walked.

The times when neither of you could sleep and you stayed talking, whether in your bed or his, he didn't fall asleep while you were talking about those topics that you were both passionate about, nor did he change the subject, he just watched you with attention.

Bucky even remembered the things you had said to him a couple of months or weeks ago and that you didn't even remember what you had said to him.

You were healing little by little, starting to be you again.

And somehow he was healing too.

If you were at one of Tony's parties or maybe at a mission meeting, sometimes you would look at Bucky when he wasn't looking at you, and the other way around would also happen, and if you caught each other looking, both would just smile like a couple of fools and look away.

One night you heard a soft knock on your door, you recognized that soft knock, when you opened your door it was Bucky again, but he looked different tonight.

"Hi..." Bucky said slowly, seeming a little nervous, his right hand resting on the frame of your door, trying to look casual. "I wanted to invite you to dinner, well, it's not really a dinner."

You could notice and see Bucky's nervousness when trying to say things as he had (probably) rehearsed them in front of the bathroom mirror and he added:

"Or yes, maybe it is, I don't know."

You interrupted his rambling with a smile on your lips, gently raising a hand to the level of your chest.

"Yes..." That's what you said, you noticed how his eyes softened at the fact that you had agreed. "Yes, I'd like to go."

He nodded repeatedly and sighed in relief, letting out a soft chuckle.

"So Friday at eight sounds good to you?" Bucky was clearing his throat, trying to hide his excitement that you had accepted dinner, you nodded. "Okay, I'll see you on Friday."

Bucky quickly kissed your cheek, wished you goodnight, and left without stopping smiling like a fool.

When you two arrived at Izzy's, Bucky greeted Leah with a smile, she seemed surprised but happy that she now finally saw him with someone other than Mr. Nakajima, especially seeing you walk in with him.

You and Bucky sat at one of the tables and you had a sneaking suspicion that someone was watching you, but you weren't sure after all there were more people than usual today, it was Friday.

After a couple of laughs, drinks, Asian food and bad jokes, a few caresses on your hand from his you noticed out of the corner of your eye that someone was approaching the table and you swore it was a waiter.

But it was your ex.

“Y/N…” Your ex said in a firm voice, looking from Bucky reluctantly and then back to you. "What are you doing here with him?"

The audacity of this idiot. You thought as you heard those words come out of your ex's mouth.

"The real question is, what are YOU doing here?" You responded rudely as a frown began to form on your forehead.

"So you're the… man who broke her heart." Bucky told him in a calm voice, but he was really trying to stop himself from smashing your ex-boyfriend's face into the pretty little sushi boat that was on the table, because he didn't want to ruin your night.

Bucky slowly stood up from the chair, making your ex jump a little, maybe he was nervous with Bucky's presence.

And the truth is he should be nervous.

Bucky was quite tall, strong and even if he didn't have a vibranium left arm, he would have enough strength to change your ex-boyfriend's health status to deceased if he tried to go far with you.

And on top of that he had to avoid at all costs breaking the second rule that he had agreed upon with Dr. Raynor in therapy: No one gets hurt.

Your ex scrunched his face in disapproval at Bucky's words, not believing what he was hearing, but now you understood many things, you had been receiving notifications on social networks, especially from Instagram indicating that your ex occasionally looked at the stories you published.

Part of you didn't understand why you continued to have him on Instagram, perhaps because you used that social network very little, but whatever, now you understood what your ex was doing there.

"What? N-No, I was confused…" Your ex started to speak, he even tried to get a little closer to you, but he couldn't since Bucky gently moved his left arm that was covered by a glove. "Now my mind is more than clear and I want us to go back Y/N."

Bucky tried to talk to him by placing his right hand on his shoulder.

"Look, son…" But your ex just moved, removing Bucky's hand from his shoulder.

"Don't call me son, we are the same age, pal." Your ex responded aggressively, while rolling his eyes, looking back at you.

Very few knew that Bucky was actually 106 years old, which if you had been in another situation you would have found it funny.

"Look, I don't know what you've been through in these eight or nine months, but she and I are together, and she's not interested in getting back with you or anyone else." Bucky spoke in a fairly firm tone of voice, being respectful.

You began to feel anxious, you felt your stomach turn not only from nervousness, but from the embarrassment you were experiencing in the establishment, many of the people at the adjacent tables were looking towards you.

"Are you really going to throw away all these years together with me, by being with him?" Your ex-boyfriend spoke softly, as if he was trying to manipulate you. "Y/N? I know you haven't forgotten me, you still love me, I know that."

You looked between both men, there was some doubt in your eyes or that's what Bucky thought he saw in you, maybe it was embarrassment.

You got up from your seat and enter the bathroom of the place with tears in your eyes, on many occasions you had dreamed of something similar, dreams that ended in nightmares that you tried to ignore some nights, many ended with your ex calling you different things like 'bitch', 'whore' or 'ungrateful witch' while throwing things at you or shaking you.

You ended up waking up drenched in sweat many nights, breathing heavily and then crying silently until sleep overcame you, although those tears and nightmares ended up being silenced by Bucky on more than one occasion while he slept next to you, stroking your hair or hugging you in his arms.

You had entered the bathroom and locked yourself inside one of the stalls, you were hyperventilating, you didn't think the wound would reopen again, you really thought you were over that, you didn't know how much time had passed, you were just sitting on the toilet seat with tears in your eyes.

Until your train of thought stopped when you heard the door to the women's bathroom open wide, hearing soft footsteps coming in and seeming to have stopped near the mirror.

"Y/N?" It was Leah's voice, it sounded soft because the bathroom had quite an echo. "Are you okay, do you need anything?"

"He's gone?" You asked shakily, leaving the bathroom stall, as soon as Leah saw you with your makeup smeared with tears, she gently tilted her head, giving you an empathetic look and approached you.

Leah nodded at your question.

"Yes, between Mr. Nakajima, Bucky and I, we took that being out of the restaurant." Leah rolled her eyes, she reached into the pockets of her apron for a handkerchief with a couple of flowers embroidered on it and wiped your face. "I really thought James was going to break his face, I was already thinking about what to replace the restaurant furniture with… they are made of old wood."

Both laughed at the comment, although you also imagined Mr. Nakajima, who had a bad temper, pushing your ex out of the restaurant door.

He was a man with a quite volatile temperament, like Bucky's.

When you returned to the restaurant you didn't see Bucky, he was outside leaning on his motorcycle, you said goodbye to Mr. Nakajima who was also leaving the restaurant with you and of course to Leah, thanking both.

Mr. Nakajima opened the door for you and let you out first.

"Pretty ladies first" Mr. Nakajima said with a kind smile, which made you laugh, and that made Bucky turn his head to the door of the establishment and approach you.

"Are you ok?" Bucky gently took your face in his hands, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

You looked into his eyes and you could feel that he was still upset by your ex's attitude, in fact, he seemed a little uncomfortable, perhaps remembering your look of doubt.

You nodded silently. You had a thoughtful look again.

"Honey…" Bucky began to speak softly, lowering his hands to his sides. It was the first time he had called you that pet name since you had started talking and going out. "I know I'm not the easiest person to deal with."

You remained silent, listening to what he had to say.

"I have nightmares at night, I have anger issues, I'm 106 years old…" Bucky chuckled, looking away from your eyes for a moment to see a couple of people crossing the street during the lonely night. "Even other problems, especially because of my past, so I will totally understand if you want to get back with him."

You didn't know what your expression really was, but Bucky seemed surprised as he looked back at you.

"What? I said something wrong?" Bucky asked, maybe you looked at him like he was crazy.

"I'm really going to have to talk to Dr. Raynor." You said nodding with a smile on your lips.

Bucky looked at you confused, he didn't understand what the mention from his psychologist that he was seeing it had to do with this conversation.

“Oh please…” You rolled your eyes, sometimes you forgot that Bucky was born before penicillin. "It means that I'd be crazy if you think I'm going to choose my ex. I like you, James B-"

Bucky leaned forward, crashing his lips against yours and bringing his hands back to your face, your eyes instinctively closed, enjoying the kiss which became more intense and then you both separated, gasping for air, without saying a word...

You two now knew how the other felt.