#you actually *have to* go through this movie frame-by-frame to see everything

[chvoswxtch]

Romcom - with Hotch ? 👀🫶🏼

Girl i’ve been waiting for the right time for you to hopefully take this and do your thing with it cuz you’re amazing. I know it’s specific and long so pls feel free to do with it what you like. Also I’m not sure it fits your movie night theme, so then maybe just keep it for when you maybe do wanna write it???? Here it is, whatever….

K so like hotch and reader are like couple goals, been married long, working through everything and are just downright adorable BUT THEN hotch nearly dies…like for real gets shot in the stomach or something - something real scary. And aaaaall the time he’s mumbleling stuff, reassuringly or scared like: you cant tell my wife she’ll end me or tell her I’m fine, gonna be home for dinner…

But maybe she’s there and she’s trying her hardest to make everybody move, but Morgan is just not having it, making her stay tf back…

When she finally sees him she’s s c a r e d…so terrified of might having actually lost him, of it happening again cuz he will be in these situations again and who is she if not supportive and understanding…just scared and hopelessly in love. bye.

honey you essentially just wrote a whole ass masterpiece on your own

but you asked for my dramatic flair & I am nothing if not a dramatic bitch that lives for the ✨ t h e a t r e ✨

headcannon below the cut

if i stay starring aaron hotchner

derek knew you would physically fist fight him in the middle of that hospital hallway if he even dared to try and keep you out of hotch's room. he kept trying to reason with you, that you wouldn't wanna see him in that state, but you were not in a state of mind to be reasoned with

when you got the call from rossi that your husband was in the hospital, that familiar stone of dread sank in your stomach, nearly sending you through the floor. he didn't say what had happened, not over the phone, but you could hear the fear in his voice, which terrified you

the solemn faces of his team didn't help ease your anxiety, and the grisly details sent your nervous system into a full on meltdown. you could only pick up bits and pieces of what the surgeon explained

gunshot. loss of blood. critical condition. touch and go.

being in the bau was a dangerous job, and hotch had gotten hurt a few times over the course of your marriage, but it had never been this bad

nothing could've prepared you for the sight of hotch bruised and bloodied, laying in a hospital bed, connected to a bunch of wires that were keeping him alive, with an oxygen tube in his nose to help his weakened lungs do the most basic of human subconscious functions

panic, fear, anger, hopelessness, desperation, sadness; all of these emotions were crashing over each other like perilous tides and you were drowning beneath their tenacity

hotch was the strongest person you knew, physically and mentally. he was your rock. to see him reduced to something so fragile and broken shattered something within you. it wasn't like you were foolish enough to think your husband was invincible, but he was smart and cautious, he knew what he was doing. but today reminded you just how human he was

all you could do was sit there by his side and hold his hand while you fluctuated from silent weeping to full fledged sobbing. it didn't feel like enough, but it was all you could do. you couldn't help but replay this morning over and over in your head, analyzing every frame. had you told him you loved him? had you kissed him before he left? had you savored the few seconds before he walked out the door, not knowing that he might not walk back through it?

"don't tell my wife."

you'd been sitting there for what felt like an eternity in silence with nothing but the haunting background noise of beeping machines and chatter in the hallway. it was so faint, you almost didn't hear it. hotch still looked like he was sleeping, and you weren't sure if you'd imagined it or not

"what?"

you leaned in a little closer, and when he let out a deep exhale, the first sign of life you'd seen since you stepped into this room, you almost burst into tears

"don't tell my wife."

his speech was slightly slurred as he mumbled, and you weren't sure if it was due to the blood loss or the anesthesia that was wearing off from surgery

"why not?"

he was so out of it he didn't even seem to recognize your voice

"because she'll kick my ass."

you couldn't stop the laugh that escaped your lips at that, covering your mouth with your hand while the most imperceptible of a smile tugged at the edge of his lips

"I promised i'd be home for dinner."

giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you sniffled and wiped at your damp cheeks with a sad smile

"i'm sure she'll understand if you're a little late."

a sound that was a cross between a snort and a scoff left hotch as one of his thick dark brows subtly arched

"you haven't met my wife."

brushing your thumb over the back of his hand, you reached out with your other to gently push his hair back

"maybe this is a cosmic sign it's time for a vacation."

in the midst of gently carding your fingers through his hair, the next words that left his lips caught you off guard and made you go still

"maybe it's time to retire."

a full minute of silence passed, and then slowly, hotch's eyes opened, and as if drawn by some invisible magnetic force, the immediately found you

the pressure of him squeezing your hand, a silent gesture of not just reassurance, but also his strength returning, had tears welling up in your eyes all over again

hotch slowly turned his head to look at you, his eyes wandering over your face like he was trying to memorize every detail, and then a gentle but weak smile graced his mouth

"I won't be late for dinner ever again, honey."

I made myself emotional and now i'm gonna go cry excuse me

[dharmafox]

For an entire three frames of each transformation sequence, Kusu and Shingi are standing opposite each other with that swirling, shattered background behind them. Those are the only times we see both forms together, and we know that Shuuga is the only place that can happen.

I think we just found Shuuga.

[scribesoflex]

just thinking abt older miguel x younger reader (smut 17+)

age gap! dark concept!

𖦹꙳࡛࣪⋕ ˚.✦ ⵢ₊˚.

you’re his best friend’s daughter, who he watched grow from an awkward teen to a young woman.

until puberty hit, and everything changed. no longer wanting to be around miguel or your father, prancing around like you’re better than that – than hanging out with family.

you grew up much faster than he’d hoped you would and sooner rather than later he’s loosing you to parties and dumb college boys (not like you were ever actually his) that he obviously thinks aren’t good enough.

no more wanting to spend Friday evenings snuggled on the couch, watching a scary movie. no more splashing around in his pool, shrieking out when he tosses you from the ladder. it all came to a stop.

you smiling at him or wishing him a good day coming to a halt, and he begins hearing your father complain of your behavior almost everyday. he’s getting sick of it, wishing you’d just be a good girl again. he tried to tell your father that you need punished, but he’s not having it – he swears it won’t do any good. that you’ve grown up too much.

miguel isn’t oblivious to what a young woman in college does. he was your age once, he knows. knows that your frame filled out, and that your legs grew longer, eyes got shiner, pouty lips got poutier. he just tries not to think too hard about how other men know that as well. and don’t get miguel wrong either – he feels like a creep for staring too long, looking where he shouldn’t. you look up to him.

or atleast you did.

but he’s also not an idiot, and he knows that when he’s not looking at you – you’re looking at him. chewing your lip, thinking things you probably shouldn’t, because that would just be wrong. it would be so so wrong.

it’s miguel who knows that it will do good. a simple plan really, to catch you alone, corner you and scare you into being a better daughter. miguel knows he’s a scary guy, that not even you can see past.

a late evening, one where your father is working late, and you don’t have to study. miguel is going to do it then, slipping in through the front door quietly, padding up the stairs to your bedroom.

that’s when he sees you doing something you definitely shouldn’t be.

your bedroom door is cracked, because you think you’re alone, and it’s just enough for him to see you – pillow lodged between your thighs, face screwed tight in pleasure, hips jumping and squirming. Your shirt is longer than it should be, but it’s caught on the curve of your bare ass, revealing it to his wide eyes.

He knows he should just silently retreat, go home and try to pretend like this hasn’t happened, he really does know it. but he stays put.

in a trance, length growing hard in his boxers with every stupid little incoherent plead you let out, squeaking and whining. you’re begging into the air, please wanna cum, please please. frail frame shaking and twitching. he just can’t seem to stop watching, drool pooling at the back of his throat, swallowing thickly.

you gasp out, thighs clamping tighter around the pillow, clearly approaching an orgasm, but you force yourself to stop, chewing your bottom lip. miguel thinks for a moment that maybe you can see him somehow, but that thought diminishes when you toss the pillow to the floor, falling forward, pressing your face into the mattress, legs spread wide, ass high in the air.

he can’t breathe when he sees it – your soaking pussy, screaming for him, creamy and puffy as if you’ve been at for hours.

you slip two fingers in your hole, moaning out, toes curling. the noises you make when you start thrusting your small fingers in and out, gushy and obscenely loud, make him hot. sweat building at his hairline, cock twitching in his pants.

and as if it can’t get any worse, you say it. what he’d been imagining you do.

“miguel please, need it so bad mi vida” you croon, muffled by the bed sheets, but clear as day in his ears.

“hmmm what does my sweet girl need” he coos, clicking his toungue, sucking a breath between his teeth to suffice the nerves building in his stomach.

you pause, face twisting around to see him as he trudges into your room, glowering down at you with shame. your pussy clenches around your fingers, wetness seeping out around the knuckle, and you whine.

your fingers spread your folds, letting him see your greedy hole as his hands come to spread your cheeks, shuddering at the sight up close.

“want you to fuck me, want it so so bad”

he hums, fingers ghosting over your slit, flicking your clit “since you’re begging so sweetly” he smirks.

you behave better the next day.

𖦹꙳࡛࣪⋕ ˚.✦ ⵢ₊˚. severely unedited! pt.2 here

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Established Steddie, they have been living together for over a decade, did their best to heal their wounds from the Upside Down and learn to enjoy life again. It's not easy but they do it.

When the Lord of the Rings movies come out, it's actually Steve who suggests watching them to Eddie. He really tries engaging with Eddie's passions, but his focus is not the greatest when it comes to books. That doesn't mean he doesn't listen to Eddie ramble about them though - he knows all about hobbits, second breakfasts, the culture of smoking in the Shire...Eddie admires a lot of characters from the books, but ever since experiencing the Upside Down fuckery, he actually admits that the hobbits had a point. Good food, even better company and good tobacco? What else does one need? It also inspires Steve a few years later to prepare a full day of hobbit-inspired meals for their trilogy marathon when the extended editions come out. But this is about their first time watching the movies.

They both go to the movie theater excited. Steve is familiar with most of the characters, including Eddie's self-admitted crush on Aragorn. And Steve can see why, he can see so much good in all the members of the fellowship. After the first movie, he's wiping his eyes because Boromir deserved better. Eddie has a lot to say about what was lost in adaptation, but Steve knows Eddie loves those movies and would cut off his only remaining nipple before missing the next ones.

The Two Towers have Steve rooting for the ents and he feels strangely touched about how everyone underestimates Pippin, yet it's him who gets the ents to march. He really can't pick a favorite character. He can't wait for the third movie.

They go to the premiere of the Return of the King with Eddie. They secretly hold hands in the last row, and Steve watches the ride of the Rohirrim with bated breath. He clenches his hand in Eddie's when Theoden gets gravely injured, but then Éowyn is there and...oh.

He is staring slack-jawed at the scene. Éowyn's large, terrified eyes, the towering frame of the Witch King. Her posture was fearful, crouched, but still she faced him. And something surfaces in his head, something he's long forgotten.

He's unusually queit when they come back home, he still loves the rest of the movie, almost cries at "my friends, you bow to no one,", then definitely cries at Frodo leaving the Middle Earth. But there is still that something and Eddie can sense it. When they're falling asleep together, Eddie finally asks him. And Steve's had enough time to process what he felt.

"When Éowyn faced the Witch King...it reminded me of what it felt like. I mean, for the first time. I know it's stupid because saw so much unnatural shit, but...it's the first time that I have hard time forgetting," he admits quietly. "She reminded me of me in 1983 so much. I had no clue what I was getting myself into. I thought I'd do the right thing, but then I had a gun pointed at me, they both had blood on their hands...and then it appeared."

Eddie doesn't speak, he only holds Steve closer.

"It was so tall. I remember that petal-like mouth, those teeth, but mostly...I remember the crippling fear. I felt absolutely terrified. I couldn't move. There was even a moment when I thought of running away, but...I couldn't leave them there. Seeing someone go through something similar and being praised for being a hero...it makes me think. I used to be so ashamed for freezing in that moment. For even considering running away. But Éowyn...she was like me." There's awe in his voice and warmth, relief. "She had no idea what she was getting into. She froze. She didn't do everything perfectly and gracefully like Legolas or something, but when it mattered...she did what she had to."

He holds Eddie tighter and asks, almost shyly: "Will it offend you that I think she's my favorite character? Not Aragorn or Sam?"

Eddie just shakes his head and drops a kiss to Steve's hair. "Nah. She suits you well. And you're both amazing."

And if it becomes a silly endearment in their household, that Steve is sometimes called the Shieldmaiden of Hawkins? ("I'm not a maiden, Eddie!" "I'm not calling you a shieldboy or shieldbachelor, Steve!") Then Steve feels a hint of something that he thought he'd renounced, but now, for the first time he feels it's deserved - pride.

[eddiesxangel]

Downhearted | E.M

Cw: reader with bad mental health (depression/anxiety), bestfriend!Eddie x fem!reader, hurt/comfort, smut 18+ Eddie takes care of reader.

2.4k (this was suppose to be a blurb… oops)

Recently, you have been feeling very low, and despite your best efforts, you are struggling to get back to your usual self. However, your best friend Eddie has not given up on you. He has been by your side, trying to uplift your mood and bring back your smile, but nothing seems to work. Eddie has tried everything in his power to help you, from taking you out for lunch to watching funny movies together, but once you are on your own, everything seems to be crashing down on you even harder.

Your friend is worried about you and wants to see you happy again. He understands how challenging it is to deal with mental health issues and how it can affect your life. That's why he has come up with a last-ditch plan to lift your spirits and make you feel better. He hopes that this plan will work and bring a smile to your face once again.

To make things worse, you have been distancing yourself from your friends for weeks now, and you feel terrible about it. You feel like you're letting them down, especially Eddie, who has been there for you through thick and thin. He has come over at least three times a week since your mental health started to deteriorate again, and he has never given up on you.

This isn't the first time your mental health has plummeted, but this time, it's worse than ever before. You don't even have the energy to try and get better, and you feel like everything is falling apart around you. However, Eddie's unwavering support and his last-ditch plan to lift your spirits give you hope that things will get better soon.

Living alone didn’t help. You would go days without talking to someone, and that only made things worse. So Eddie made it his mission to be there for you. You’ve always been there for him; it’s the least he can do.

You haven’t left your bed today or all week. You’ve been on your phone all day but not really doing anything; you’re numb. Not even videos of kittens could make you feel anything.

You’ve been ignoring Eddie's pleas to help you. Text after text, his contact would pop up, but you paid no mind. So when you hear the knock on your door, you groan, knowing it’s him. You want to do anything but get up, but how could you leave your best friend standing out there? The thought made you sick to your stomach. You don’t deserve him. He’s too good to you, and all you do is bring him down with you.

As you sniffle back your tears and your inner demons, you wrap yourself in your blanket and pad your way slowly to the door.

You open it, and Eddie’s smile falls when he sees you. You haven’t looked at yourself in over a week, and you also haven’t showered in over a week. As Eddie takes in your state, a small, heartbroken “sweetheart” leaves his lips.

He felt so guilty for not being able to visit you last week. He’d been working doubles and was exhausted. Today was his first day off in six days, and he was so excited to spend time with you.

Your vision blurs as you see Eddie standing there with a bag of groceries with food, actual nutrition that you've been depriving yourself of, only aiding your demons.

He drops the bag and wraps his arms around your frail frame, and you break.

“I don’t know what's wrong with me?” Your voice cracks. You can’t remember the last time you spoke words aloud.

Your breath is shaky, and you tremble as you feel Eddie’s strong arms wrapped around you.

His familiar smell only calms you a little, but you’re so exhausted you can no longer hold it together.

He coos you and strokes your greasy hair, not caring how dirty it feels. He understands, he knows.

“Come, let’s get you feeling a little better, ok?”

“I can’t,” your voice shakes.

“Yes, I’ll be right here to help, okay?” He cups your face, gently forcing you to look into his eyes.

He walks you to the kitchen table, and he begs you to drink some water and eat the sandwich he brought over for you.

While you eat, you see Eddie unpack the groceries and then go to your room. A few minutes later, he comes out to throw your sheets in the washer and pulls a fresh pair from your linen closet.

You finish eating as much as you can when Eddie returns from making your bed.

Eddie coerced you to the bathroom. He helps you brush your teeth and convinces you to shower, not daring to joke about how you smell. You say you will as long as he stays in there with you.

Washing yourself was too much to do on your own. So he stood on the other side of the curtain, and you just stood there under the hot water, unable to move.

“Sweetheart? You doing okay?”

Your tears are camouflaged, but your gasps aren’t.

“N-no”

“Do… do you want me to help?” He cringes.

You don’t answer, and it worries Eddie. Had he overstepped? You were naked behind the thin material separating you.

Eddie waits for a few more beats; his heart is pounding. But he releases his breath when he sees your hand push the curtain aside to invite him in.

Nothing would be able to prepare him for the sight before his eyes. You had already started but didn’t get far; some soap suds had already been spread across your chest.

He tried hard to ignore how the blood flow immediately started flowing south. This was not the time to get a boner.

You watched how Eddie removed his shirt and pants in a daze. He kept on his boxers, but you could see the small tent forming.

You didn’t even care that you were naked in front of your best friend because you felt nothing.

You just wanted to feel something.

Eddie stepped in with you and pulled the shower curtain closed. It was so intimate; you and Eddie hadn’t been this close in this way before. But you trusted one another, and there was no awkwardness or hesitation once Eddie squeezed the shampoo in his hands and started.

I felt Eddie’s fingers massage your scalp, and it was nice. The last time someone took care of you like this was when you were a child when you were not old enough to do it yourself.

Eddie ensured that everything was rinsed properly, and then he moved on to the conditioner. He made sure to saturate all your hair before he took the loofa and your body wash.

Now this, was where Eddie got a little nervous. He didn’t want to overstep.

As you stood there, almost catatonic, he lifted your arms to get your armpits, then he ran the soap down your arms, across your back and down your legs, avoiding your more intimate areas.

“You think you can help me out, sweetheart?”

You slowly nod your head, and he passes you the saturated loofa.

Eddie watches as you run it across your chest, lifting a breast to get underneath. Eddie tries not to, but he can’t help but feel aroused. He tries to push it away, but the last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable.

He knows you trust him; you’re asking him to help you in your darkest hour.

He shifts, trying to avoid your gaze; it’s only making things harder. Literally.

He pushes away those thoughts and makes sure you’re fully rinsed off. He turns off the water for you and goes to get your towel. He’s soaked, but he doesn’t care; your wellbeing will come first, even if he’s sprouting goosebumps along his flesh.

He takes your hand to guide you out of the tub. You feel slightly better, but it’s not enough.

When a thought pops into your head, you don’t care if it’s stupid, so you act on it without giving it any more thought.

You reach out and graze your hand over Eddie’s soaked boxers. They are taught to his skin, not hide anything, and you can see he’s ready and willing to go.

He steps back at the sudden touch.

“Please, Eddie, I need to feel something, anything. I don’t know what else to do” you sobbed.

As you stand there, feeling lost and alone, Eddie's embrace envelops you, pulling you in closer. In this moment, you know that you are not alone and that your friend is there to support you through thick and thin. Eddie's hug is so tight; he needs you to know that he would let nothing in the world hurt you. You close your eyes and breathe in deeply, grateful for your friend's unwavering support.

“Shhhhhh y/n, it’s okay. I have you.” He wraps the fluffy bath towel around your body, keeping you warm.

“Please Eddie”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. I won’t let this change anything between us, I swear.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Okay,” he didn’t know if this was a good idea, but he had to do something to make you feel better; he would do anything for you; he would get the moon for you if there was a way. So he will do this for you.

He surprises you by lifting you up bridal style and carrying you to the bedroom. He's much stronger than you thought as he gently placed you down on your fresh sheets.

“Tell me if you want to stop, okay?”

“I promise, Eddie.” You nod.

Slowly, Eddie leans down to kiss you gently. The mint toothpaste still lingers on your breath. His lips feel so soft; it’s nice to be kissed.it's nice to be kissed by Eddie.

You feel his lips detach from yours, moving across your cheek and lowering your neck. The water from his hair trickled into your skin, making you shiver.

Eddie wanted to know your body, what made you tick, what made you moan, what made you needy with desire. He focused on the side of your neck and was proud when he found a spot that made you whimper.

“That okay, sweetheart?”

“Mmhmmm”

He could feel your chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. He could see he was getting you worked up the way you needed.

His timid fingers spread your legs wider so he could feel you and to Eddie’s surprise, you were still dry. He thought he would feel your slick as he slowly rubbed your pussy, but it wasn’t there.

“I uh- um. I don’t think you’re enjoying this.” he sits back, a bit defeated. This hasn’t happened to him before.

“It’s not you, Eddie; it’s me. I-I want to... You’re doing good; it’s just that sometimes girls need help if they’re like… this…”

“Oh,” Eddie understands, you're still in your head,” Eddie understands, you.

“I have lube and condoms in the nightstand”

Eddie reaches over you to grab it. The crack of the hard plastic lid is so loud in the silent room that you flinch a little.

“Sorry”

“It’s okay,” you whisper. Suddenly you’re very aware you’re naked in front of your best friend, but that is brushed to the side when you feel his slippery fingers make contact with your pussy once again.

“Ohhhh,” you breathe in.

Eddie smirks and leans in to kiss you once again. You feel his tongue slick its way past your lips; who knew he was such a good kisser.

Slowly, minute by minute, you’re actually feeling something—pleasure. Eddie brings you back to life with each touch, brush, and kiss.

“Eddie,” you moan as his fingers slip inside you.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“More,” you pant.

You don’t have to tell him twice. He will do anything to make you feel better, which seems to be working. He rips open the condom, and you surprise him by reaching up to cup his balls. He gasps, and a smirk spreads across your face for the first time in weeks.

“I knew there was a little freak you were hiding from me.” Eddie laughs, and he pulls one out of you as well. His heart swells when he hears the sound leave your lips.

“There’s my girl,” so much relief is behind his eyes.

“Hi, Eddie.” You look up at him like he’s given you all the stars in the sky.

“You still want to do this?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” he brushes your wet hair behind your ear and softly kisses you. It becomes needy quickly, and desperation takes over both of you.

It didn’t matter that you were only best friends, that you weren’t okay, that he was in just as much pain as you were. All that mattered was one another, two physical entities in your own little world. Your mind was completely erased; for a moment, you finally forgot everything weighing down on you.

Eddie continues to kiss you as he guides himself in slowly. You can’t help but take a deep breath as he pushes his way in.

As Eddie entered you, you melted into his touch. Nothing could have made you feel this good. He was consuming every inch of your being. With every brush, every thrust, every nip, kiss and bite, you were coming alive again.

Eddie’s hands travel all along your body, squeezing your breasts, tweaking your nipples, making you twitch and grind up into Eddie’s touch. Your hips are ungulate with his, and your moments become one as you and Eddie perform the perfect dance.

The past picks up faster and faster. Eddie brushes the spot inside you every single time, and you’re crying out his name.

Eddie can’t believe he’s making you feel this good, this wanted. His beautiful best friend was here helping you, holding you, and doing this for you.

“Eddie, please”

“Let go, baby”

The pet name accidentally slipped past his lips and didn’t go unnoticed. It only aided your orgasm to come that much quicker.

A wave of pleasure crashed over you as it washed through your whole body without warning.

Eddie watched as he was the one who made your body quiver, to make your eyes roll back, to have you silently screaming for him. He couldn’t hold on anymore, either. Your cunt clamped down so tightly on his cock he shook as he spilled into the condom.

His sweaty body collapses on you, and the only thing you can hear is your erratic breaths.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you sniffle, and Eddie quickly pops his head up because you’re crying once again.

“Baby, please don’t cry. I can’t take it anymore.” he holds your face, wiping away your tears with his thumbs.

“No, it's- it's happy tears; you helped me feel something. I thought I was broken. Thank you, Teddie.”

“I’ll always be here for you; I love you, sweetheart."

You didn’t care if he only meant platonically or romantically; he was your person forever and always.

“I love you too.”

Tagging some mooties!: @nailbatanddungeon @taintedcigs @hellfirenacht @littlexdeaths @andvys @rebelfell @xxbimbobunnyxx @rowanswriting @voyeurmunson @asimpforthe80s @mmunson86 @slutty-thevampireslayer @strangerstilinski

[stardustlixie]

Okay hear me out...

Ot8 cuddling with the reader for the first time they have their head on his chest and his heart starts going crazy cause he's so nervous and he gets all shy and embarrassed ears getting all red 🤭🤭

Ugh I go crazyyy for shy skz

Okay that's all for now :))

~cookiecreates🍪

omg okay. super fluffy scenario. shy skz will actually decay my brain someday I adore them.

I'm gonna do this is a sort of hcs format so if that's not what you wanted, sorry!

chan

• shy baby. this man is a shy baby through and through.

• chan will always be someone to cherish his significant other and he will take everything seriously, every little milestone

• so early on in your relationship, you're at his place for the first time, you both hang out and watch a movie, he's no stranger to touch but you bet he's gonna be super surprised when your hands suddenly wrap around his frame and your head comes to rest on his chest

• the effect would be immediate, poor baby's heartbeat would quicken and all coherent thoughts will leave his brain

• you know how chan's blush starts from his ears before it can reach his face? yeah his ears will be suuuuper red. it's like he's frozen in time, you can see him gulping and you can't stop the laugh that escapes you.

• your giggles are what finally snaps him out of his daze "channie what's wrong?"

• "wha- oh. no. nothing." his arms wrap around your frame and their is a stupid dorky grin on his face the entire time. he does not pay even a second's attention to the movie, too busy memorizing how your cuddles feel to notice the screen. the boy is smitten.

lino

• you know he isn't a very expressive individual at first and it takes him time to open up, he's not the one to be super touchy either so you're very doubtful whether or not you should initiate anything.

• you see him getting jittery offstage after a concert, he must have been overwhelmed, you're new to this, to him, but he's your boyfriend nonetheless and the concern you're feeling isn't making this any easier.

• you drag him away from the staff and crowd and take him back to his hotel room before the rest of the boys, by the time you get him there you know for a fact that he's having a panic attack, he sinks into his bed and it doesn't matter if the most you've touched him is a few hugs to greet him, you wrap your arms around the boy's frame and pull him close.

• if it's two minutes or twenty you don't know, but you separate the moment you're sure he's calmed down, not wanting to make him uncomfortable

• "if you're fine i'll leave, sorry if i kinda over stepped your boundaries there."

• you're very surprised when he just opens up his arms, inviting you to lay down with him, and you smile at his nonverbal invitation before joining him.

• if the shy smile on his face didn't tell you better, then you'd think he's having another panic attack with the way his heartbeat is rising, you can feel it with your head on his chest. none of you says much, but words aren't really needed.

changbin

• one look at this man will tell any sane person that he is the best cuddle giver EVER, changbin is very affectionate, he is touchy. that's how he expresses his love

• but you're not really a very open person, it took him so long to actually get to the point of dating you so he's afraid he might do something wrong or make you uncomfortable if he rushed into his way of expressing adoration, so he mostly just settles for words of affirmation and don't get him wrong, he loves the small smiles and the words he gets in return, but he's craves physical affection nonetheless.

• but one evening he's sprawled out on the couch after a shower, and the power of a curly haired, bare faced binnie isn't unknown to anyone and boy is he surprised when he suddenly has his partner laying on him like he's a body pillow.

• changbin.exe has stopped working.

• his arms come up to hold you in place and you rest your face on his shoulder. "hey binnie", "hey baby" he chuckles, you can hear the surprise and the nervousness in his voice so you just dig your face into the croom of his neck and make yourself comfortable.

• felix has to hear him rant about this for weeks after.

hyunjin

• hyunjin isn't the type to date someone unless he's really invested, but he also isn't the type to do something in a rush. but the boy is very much touch starved.

• it's a painting date at your place, do the paintings you makes for each other go well? yes. but do you also end up smearing paint on each other for the sake of it? also yes. it's almost like a toddler playfight.

• you adore the boy, but he sucks at initiation, so it's you who initiates the kiss that turns into a make out session afterwards, that ends up with you straddling him, but instead of getting off when you separate, you just choose to lie down half on him and half on the bed.

• safe to say the boy is surprised, because it takes him a whole minute to process before his arms come up to hold you. his face is sooo red.

• "hey love. you're blushing a concerning amount." he just whines out a 'shut up' and makes himself comfortable, he never quite gets over the flustered state.

han

• hannie is not a man of patience, he is also not someone with a lot of time. that means you've been dating him for a month and you've been closer to fucking than you've been to spending actual quality time with him.

• which leads to this, you came here to find him working on his song, he gives you a quick greeting but you're not taking that, he's startled when he feels you taking his headphones off and giving him a pointed stare. "han jisung." "hey baby..."

• a minute later you have him beside you on his bed, a movie playing on the laptop he was previously working on. he whines about needing to finish the song but you just tell him to push you off if he dares. he doesn't.

• your head is on his shoulder and if you didn't know any better you'd think his anxiety was the reason his heart was beating so fast.

felix

• sweet sweet baby that he is, he's probably the one who initiated the affection, early on too. but considering your sort of closed off personality, poor baby was sooo hesitant when he did. you weren't very touchy, definitely not as much as him and he didn't want to ruin anything.

• so he was very careful with how he pulled you close to himself, face red the whole time. he was very close to losing himself in an abyss of overthinking when he heard you chuckle, "you're adorable."

• and when you wrapped your arms back around him was the moment you signed up for a lifetime of koala felix. good luck ever getting him off of you now.

seungmin

• he isn't very affectionate. we know. he expresses love with bickering and insults more than he does by normal means. so no surprise that personality trait is apparent when you're trying to solve a puzzle with him.

• "oh lord you're a fucking idiot!" he says when he finds you trying to make something funny out of a few of the thousand pieces of the puzzle. "you're dating said idiot though?" "you being my idiot does not negate the fact that you are an idiot" "whatever loverboy, admit you have a soft spot for me!" "nuh uh."

• maybe it's the way his curls fall over his eyes, or the way his glasses sit at the bridge of his nose, or the involuntary expression of concentration, but something prompts you to push him back on the couch and take a seat beside him, arms coming up around his waist to hold him in place.

• for the first time in his life, seungmin does not have something snarky to say, which surprises you enough to check up on him and find him blushing profusely as he stares at the floor, small smile playing on his lips. "you're real quiet now loverboy." "baby.."

• "huh, wasn't i a fucking idiot just now?" you giggle as you boop his nose, his hands coming up to wrap around your shoulders. "you're baby. for now."

innie

• you weren't even dating when it first happened, you were having a sleepover with the boys and you woke up shivering, in half sleepy wits you decided to snuggle into innie's side while he was asleep.

• he woke up before you, and was in awe when he found the home you'd made beside him, your face completely relaxed, quite comfy with your head on his chest apparently, half of your body was on top of him, so even if he wanted to, he couldn't move without waking you up.

• he just lay there smiling to himself until some of the boys woke up. you were later given photo proof of your sleepy actions by a very amused felix.

• and that's what prompted jeongin to confess.

[uglypastels]

Hiya! I was wondering if you could do a fic Logan being all stubborn and caring with an introverted/loner type reader? I’d love if if she were sort of like him in terms of aging and had been used as a sort of weapon in her past, now she’s afraid to be with him, thinking she’d hurt him or something? And he just reassures her that even if she did, he wouldn’t leave her alone. If not that’s completely fine but thanks for reading! Loved your last fic btw!! 💚

i did my best with this and i really hope you enjoy it. also it might not be super clear from how i wrote it, but i wasn't too sure on how else to include it, but the reader's mutation is meant to be that she has spikes pull and retract from all over her body, kind of like a porcupine... ? idk i wanted it to be similar to logan's but different.

warnings: trauma/severe ptsd. angst. nightmares. crying. aggression.

~ X-Men requests Open ~ Masterlist ~

‘Sweetheart, wait,’ Logan called after you.

‘Don’t call me that, Logan!’ You exclaimed as you shut the door, tears ready to burst. You let the weight of your body fall against the door, your arm reaching for the bolt to lock it. You didn’t know what had come over you. Nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. But perhaps that was exactly it. Just one too many times, had Logan come too close. At first, you hadn’t minded it all too much. Actually, you kind of enjoyed it. It was safe when you knew to keep him at a distance. But each time he persisted, you felt your walls tremble beneath his strength, and you wouldn’t be able to keep it up much longer. And then that happened… people would get hurt. As they always did.

‘Please, I just want to talk.’ His voice was muffled through the door. But you could feel him as if he was right next to you. The heat of his body radiating right through everything and onto you. 

‘Just leave.’ You shouted back at him. Eventually, he would have to give up and go. If not for rest, then nutrition; if not food, then he would certainly need a drink. 

‘I’m not leaving you. Not like this.’ He tried the handle, but it just rattled uselessly next to you. ‘C’mon, let me in.’

The tears finally broke through the dam and flooded your cheeks as years of emotions and memories overwhelmed you. It all suddenly flashed before your eyes. Both the things you remembered and those that felt like images from a movie you had never seen before. Puzzle pieces of a life you did not remember and only made your head spin more.

‘It’s happening again, isn’t it?’ He always knew. You weren’t sure how, but Logan could always tell when you were having an episode. Possibly because he was the only other person on earth who understood. Who knew exactly what you had gone through. Perhaps you had known each other before the experiment, but neither of you remembered. All you knew was that you had found eachother, both lost, confused and afraid. You fought for and with eachother, but there would always be one thing that kept you at a distance, no matter how hard Logan would try to get closer to you.

Some minds just weren’t as strong as others, and after everything that had happened, it started to take a toll on you and your powers. The nights where you woke up screaming, bedsheets soaked in cold sweat, had been in the hundreds. And Logan would always be the first one at your side, ignoring the searing pain of the thousand needles that perforated his skin as he held you. 

You couldn’t always control your powers. Not when you were in such a state. You were working on it, but the weekly sessions you had with the professor could only do so much. There was only so much Logan could take, and seeing him get hurt because of you only added to the fuel of the nightmares. You had never told him how the lost dozen times you awoke in terror was because of the image of his dying frame at your mercy. 

But that’s all that it was. Nightmares. And you would never let it become reality. That was a promise you had made yourself a long time ago.

You were pulled back to reality by a loud, hollow thud coming from the other side of the door. Logan punched the wall, nearly cracking the layers, as he called out to you with no response. Your name echoed through the building, the simple word getting filled with more and more worry with each repetition.

‘Why do you care, anyway, Logan?’  

‘Because I love you, damn it!’ He burst out, and it was like the oxygen had been taken from your lungs. Time stood still. You couldn’t move, breathe, speak. Even clear thoughts couldn’t form in your mind. You had no response. None that wouldn’t bring any less hurt than you already had. But the warmth radiating through that door never left your side. For what you didn’t know was that Logan had also made a promise a long time ago, and you’d have to kill him before he’d break it. That much was sure.

the end.

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

[helloalycia]

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] — 𝐒𝐊𝐘𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

one / three / masterlist / wattpad

summary: as you and Skye try to relearn how to be friends again, you realise it’s harder than you thought.

warning/s: mentions of injury, substance abuse, poor mental health and basically everything Skye goes through oof.

author's note: here’s part 2! so sorry it was delayed, i’ve been stuffed with cold for the past few days so didn’t have chance to share it. Hope this makes up for it anyway :)

"...and I'm just outside your building now," I said to Skye over the phone, lingering outside.

"I was just about to call," she said in a rushed voice, sounding apologetic. "I'm running late, but I'm almost there. Give or take ten minutes. You can head straight up. The doorman knows to let you in and the spare key is in the same place as always."

I hesitated at her response.

It wasn't a big deal, I'd been to her apartment many times, but it had also been a year since I'd last been and it felt strange to go up alone. Especially because I was just supposed to be meeting her to go out, not actually going inside.

"Oh, I can just wait outside, it's okay," I said, maybe a little too quickly, but she didn't seem to notice.

"No, it's fine, you head up, I'll be with you soon," she assured me, before I heard a sound in the background. "I gotta go. See you in ten!"

I chewed my lip before putting my phone away and heading straight inside. As Skye said, the doorman recognised me and let me straight up, and it felt odd. The last time I'd been in the lift, I was crying on the way down from that awful argument between Skye and I. I hadn't been back since – I'd had no need to. But now...

It wasn't the same, I had to remind myself of that. She wasn't the same. None of this was.

Over the past few weeks, we'd somewhat returned to how things used to be, but it was all baby steps. Being each other's friend was second nature, and yet moments like this sometimes had me stumbling in the dark.

I found her door at the end of the hall, digging out the spare key from behind the framed painting next to it. A stupid place to keep it I'd always thought, but the whole place was guarded anyway so it didn't matter.

After opening the door, I returned the key to its spot before letting myself in. Everything looked the same as I last remembered it, and I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I'd missed it. I still remembered when she bought it and moved in, after her career picked up overnight. We'd had countless movie nights here, sleepovers that lasted days sometimes, and it just brought back so many memories. Good, as well as bad, but I tried not to focus on the latter.

I began to walk around aimlessly, waiting for her to return, eyeing the cabinet full of awards, the framed albums, admiring the penthouse view from her living room, and then I came across some framed photos hung on the wall. Some were of her and her mum when she was a kid, others were as she grew up, and then I spotted a familiar one.

It was a photo of Skye performing her first ever single on her first ever TV appearance years ago, and it was a photo taken by me, one of my first professional gigs as a photographer. A small smile tugged at my lips, realising she hadn't taken it down. I was touched that she kept it.

The door opening made me glance away and see Skye rushing in, looking a bit dishevelled. When she spotted me, she smiled with relief.

"Hey, sorry, I didn't mean to run late," she said as she closed the door behind her.

"It's fine," I said dismissively, before joking, "You know, you're a little too trustworthy. It's been a year. I totally could have come up here and, like, I don't know, robbed you or something. Sold your shit on eBay."

She tossed her bag to the couch as she laughed quietly, quirking a brow. "Oh, really? A year and you've suddenly turned into a criminal?"

"I could've."

"What a personality change."

I laughed as she stopped by my side, nudging me in the arm slightly, before her gaze fell to the photos hung on the wall.

"Ah, going through memory lane, I see," she teased lightheartedly.

I glanced at her with a slight smile. "It's cute that you've still got it. Even if it is a terrible photo."

"It's not," she said with a chuckle, looking at it with pride. "It's a two in one, I had to keep it. My first TV appearance and the day I met you. It just makes it extra special that you took the photo."  

My cheeks grew warm at her words, and I found myself staring at her profile as she smiled reminiscently at the photo. We'd come so far since then and yet I still did a double take whenever I looked to her. Maybe some things hadn't changed...

"I'm just gonna change my clothes and then we can head out," she said after a moment. "Won't be long."

"It's cool, take your time," I said with a nod, watching as she went to her room, before looking back to the photo and finding myself smiling all over again.

—

Becoming friends with Skye again made it easy to remember all the best parts of having a friendship with her, so much that I almost forgot what led to everything being ruined in the first place.

Of course there was the substance abuse, but the reason for that was the anxieties and stresses that came with being one of the most popular celebrities in the world. And it definitely didn't help that Skye never had a lot of support from her team, who only ever saw her as a commodity. Clearly that hadn't changed.

I'd just finished some work one morning and had plans to hang out with Skye after, maybe catch a movie or something as she had the day off, we hadn't really decided. But when I called her, she answered groggily.

"Hey, Skye, you good?" I asked jokingly.

She made a sound like a yawn before humming. "Yes, sorry, I was just napping. Just been tired."

"Oh, I was calling to say I'm free now, but we can rearrange if–"

"No, no, I want to see you," she cut me off with assurance, forcing herself to sound more lively. "A movie, right? Or lunch?"

I tried not to snicker. "Skye, it's your day off and you sound exhausted. It's alright."

"I'm fine, honest," she said confidently, or an attempt at it. "Please, I was looking forward to seeing you."

I sighed, debating whether or not to listen to her. Then, I thought of a solution. "How about we stay in? I can come to yours and we can watch a movie there?"

"Yes, I'd love that," she said with a hint of relief. "Thank you. I'll get the blankets warmed up in the dryer, ready for your arrival."

I laughed quietly. "Sounds good. I'll bring some snacks and be over soon."

And just like that, we both kept to our word and got comfortable on her couch barely half an hour later. Snacks were laid out on the coffee table whilst two fluffy blankets covered us completely. Still, we leaned against each other for warmth.

Skye was definitely burnt out, her general enthusiasm diminished temporarily and her movements sluggish, but she was smiling all the same as she spent time with me. I knew she meant it, but it still worried me that she wasn't getting enough time to simply rest.

"How's tour stuff going?" I asked as she loaded up a film on Netflix.

She shrugged as she focused on the task at hand. "Alright. Been busy. You know how it can get."

I glanced at her. "I do."

She must have noticed my staring as she stopped what she was doing and looked over at me with an amused smile. "What?"

"Nothing," I said nonchalantly, looking to the TV. "Just remember that you can take a break if you need to. It's important or you'll risk burning out."

She sighed, leaning her head on my shoulder and playing with the blanket mindlessly. "I know. I am."

"Enough breaks," I clarified, watching her hands play with it. "I mean, your team are supportive, I'm sure, but they don't always know what's best for you."

She snorted with amusement, glancing up at me. "And you do?"

I met her gaze, half playful and half serious. "Maybe. Maybe not. But I'll always be an advocate of you taking a freakin' break."

She suppressed a smile as she nudged me appreciatively. "You're right. I will. I guess I've just been busy making sure everything is perfect. It has to be, you know? Especially after everything."

"I know," I said sympathetically. "I get it. Just... take care of yourself. Please."

She nodded, though sunk further into the couch as she laced her hands around my arm to get comfortable, almost like she was ending the conversation without saying so. I took the hint and looked back to the screen.

"Picked a film yet?" I asked.

"Almost."

—

Despite how easy it was to fall back into everything with Skye, there were still topics we didn't discuss. Like we never brought up our friendship-ending argument again, or her time in rehab, and she never talked about the accident. It wasn't that I didn't leave that space open for her to discuss, but it was definitely her way of keeping that separate by not bringing it up. And naturally, I didn't want to force her to relive it by bringing it up either.

But not talking about it meant I didn't always know how to help her.

We were walking around a park near her apartment one evening, enjoying a stroll at first, but then we started to mess around on some of the playing equipment since the place was deserted.

"You really think you can clear it in ten seconds?" I asked her with a laugh as she looked up at the monkey bars.

"I do, yeah," she said, mirroring my laughter as she glanced at me. "You just watch. Go on. Grab your phone. Timer at the ready please."

Curious, I pulled out my phone and stepped back, finger hovering over the timer. "Ready when you are, idiot."

She grinned before standing beneath the monkey bars. Looking up at them, she took a deep breath, about to jump up, but I intentionally interrupted to throw her off.

"You sure you don't wanna stretch first?"

She jumped and glared at me playfully. "Shut up. Just get ready."

I laughed and waited patiently, watching as she readied herself once more. And then she jumped up to grab the bars and I started the timer.

She managed to move down three bars before faltering at the fourth one and then letting go all of a sudden. My eyes widened when she landed on the tarmac with a sharp gasp, and I forgot all about the stupid timer as I rushed to check on her.

"Shit, Skye, you okay?" I asked quickly, kneeling down beside her.

Her face contorted in pain as her hand clutched her back. She was leaning on her elbow, clearly hurt.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she muttered quickly, though she winced and her eyes were squeezing shut to suppress the pain.

I noticed she was holding her back – not really putting together that it was from her existing back pain from the accident – and tried to help by reaching for her jacket to see if she'd hurt it from the fall.

"No!" she suddenly shouted when she saw me attempting to touch her, and I jumped.

"Okay, sorry, sorry," I apologised, not wanting to overwhelm or upset her anymore than she already was.

I moved my hand back, but she grabbed it and squeezed gently before I could, an attempt at an apology for her outburst. A shaky sigh escaped her lips as she breathed out the pain, and I didn't say anything more as I held her hand, waiting patiently. Though my heart was clenching with concern the longer she took.

"It hurts sometimes," she finally spoke, avoiding my eyes, "from the accident. That's all."

When I realised it was much more than just falling from the monkey bars, I felt stupid and spoke without thinking. "Do you have medicine?"

She tensed her jaw as she glanced at me.

"Stupid question, sorry," I realised, grimacing.

She let go of my hand and shook her head, expression softening. "No, it wasn't."

Something was bothering her, more than the pain, but now wasn't the time to ask, so I settled on helping her stand up.

"Maybe we should call it a night," I said carefully. "It's getting late anyway."

She nodded, still avoiding my eyes, and we both walked back to her apartment in an awkward silence. A million things were running through my mind, mostly out of concern for Skye, and acknowledging my utter stupidity. For once, I couldn't read her.

When we reached the lobby inside, we paused by the lift.

"Are you okay?" I asked, trying to dial down my worry for her sake.

"Yes, sorry," she muttered.

"It's fine," I assured her, eyes scanning her expression as she purposely looked at my shirt and not me. "I didn't mean to overstep before. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

She shook her head, eyes flickering to mine briefly, sad, before looking down to her shoes. "You didn't. I just–"

She paused, a moment too long, enough to make me wonder what had her so uneasy.

"It's not pretty," she finally spoke, quieter than usual. "The... the scar. It's..."

"You don't need to explain," I said, when she didn't speak anymore, though my heart ached with concern, soon realising her uneasiness was embarrassment. An unnecessary embarrassment at that, as if I'd care about a scar when she was still here, alive.

I gave her a moment, hoping she'd say something more, but she didn't.

"Will you be okay?" I asked worriedly, not wanting to leave her tonight if her back was flaring up.

She nodded. "Yeah."

I nodded too, though was unsure how to say my goodbyes. Usually I'd go in for a hug, but she was already uncomfortable with me touching her before and the last thing I wanted was to do that again.

But then she finally looked up, eyes meeting mine gratefully, before she hugged me.

"Thanks for not thinking I'm weird," she mumbled into my shoulder, arms wrapped around them tightly.

I returned the hug gently. "I could never."

She didn't let go straight away and neither did I, not until she made the first move since clearly she needed this hug more than I did.

Finally, she pulled apart and offered me a small smile. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight," I said, returning her smile, before reluctantly leaving her.

—

It was the first time we'd even come close to talking about the accident and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried. She wasn't opening up and I wondered if she felt like she couldn't. But maybe that incident was the key, because things changed soon after.

About a week later, I was fast asleep when I woke up to my phone vibrating on my bedside table. Confused, I cracked an eye open, wondering who could be calling in the middle of the night, but then the vibrating stopped. I considered if I cared that much, before deciding it could've been an emergency and checking who it was.

When I saw Skye's name, I woke up a little more, overcome with concern since she'd never called like this before. Immediately, I rang her back. It took two rings before she picked up.

"Hello?" she answered with confusion.

Still half asleep, I answered groggily, "Why are you confused? You just called me."

She sighed. "I did. Sorry. I cut it off when I realised."

She sounded different, her voice hoarse.

"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting up in bed and rubbing my eyes.

"Sorry, I just–" She tutted at herself. "It's late, Y/N, go back to sleep."

Even half conscious, I knew she wasn't okay. "Skye."

It went quiet, but she gave in, to my relief. "I had a bad dream," she admitted quietly. "I just wanted to distract myself. I didn't mean to wake you."

I frowned to myself. "Are you okay?"

A shaky sigh escaped her lips. "I will be. Really, just go to sleep, I'll be fine."

"I can't sleep knowing you're by yourself," I told her, too tired to hide my worry.

She paused, and then her voice came out guiltily, "Sorry."

"Don't apologise," I said gently, before asking, "Do you want me to come over?"

"No," she answered quickly, before adding, "It's late. I don't want you up and about this late into the night."

I was already pulling my duvet off and sitting at the edge of my bed as I said, "It's not a problem, Skye." It went quiet on her end, so I prompted, "Skye?"

"You don't mind?" she asked hesitantly.

Realising she did in fact want me there, I tried to reassure her. "No, of course not. I can come now."

She practically held her breath. "I owe you."

"You don't."

Exhaling softly, she said, "I'll send a cab to get you. I'll cover the cost. I don't want you on public transport in New York when all the weirdos are out."

I cracked a small smile. "Okay, Skye, see you soon."

Sounding relieved, she said, "See you soon."

I yawned as I hung up, trying to move quickly but still trying to wake up and so unintentionally moving at snail speed. After packing a small bag, including a change of clothes and some toiletries, I pulled on my shoes and a jacket before leaving for Skye's.

The taxi ride wasn't long since the streets weren't busy, and I found myself at Skye's door in less than twenty minutes. As soon as I knocked, she opened up.

"Hey," I said with a tired smile, before hugging her in greeting. "How are you?"

She hugged me back and let me in, closing the door behind me. I noticed she was wearing her pyjamas, hair dishevelled and eyes a little red.

"Better now," she admitted, before frowning. "I'm sorry I woke you up. But I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad you did," I told her, before leaving my bag by the kitchen counter. "So, what do you want to do?"

"You're tired," she noticed.

I waved a hand dismissively, trying to look more awake. "I can stay awake if you want, Skye."

She sighed, shaking her head, before wordlessly grabbing my hand and dragging me to her bedroom.

"Come on," she said as she climbed into her queen sized bed, so I got out of my shoes and jacket and followed suit, settling in beside her.

We laid on our backs, staring up at the ceiling in silence. I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I glanced at her, her expression dimly lit by the moonlight and lights shining through her blinds. She was weary, though attempting to hide it.

"Do you have bad dreams often?" I asked curiously.

She swallowed visibly. "Not as much as I used to, but... sometimes, yeah." She paused, as if stuck in an internal debate, before admitting, "It was about the accident."

At the mention of the accident, the air in the room felt charged with uncertainty, and Skye's jaw tensed slightly.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" I asked tenderly, and when she didn't reply, I quickly added, "Or you don't have to at all."

Her dark eyes flickered to mine, surprisingly calm. "It's okay. It's just– it's a lot. And when I'm alone, it's..."

"A lot," I finished for her.

She nodded, looking back up at the ceiling. "Yeah."

I found her hand between us, squeezing it gently in support.

"I remember how difficult it was after," she muttered. "That, and the withdrawals, and all of it – it was a lot. Being in the hospital... I had my mum, but it felt so lonely."

I frowned as she recalled the experience, hearing it for the first time from her lips. And then she looked over at me and I looked back, realising there were tears in her eyes.

"Why didn't you come?" she asked, voice cracking and eyes welling up. "I wanted you to visit so bad. I– I thought you would."

Not expecting that, I struggled to speak. "I told you, Skye, I thought you wouldn't want me there. I..."

She let go of my hand and wiped her eyes shamefully, looking away. I sat up slightly, leaning on my elbow to look down at her, not wanting her to bottle everything up now.

"I waited," she whispered. "Every day, hoping you'd come to see me."

My heart crumbled at her words, guilt pressing down on my chest. "I'm sorry."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "It's not your fault, I know that. But I just..."

With the nightmare still fresh and her recollection of the past at the forefront of her mind, I knew her emotions were heightened and she was overwhelmed, and it hurt to witness.

I pulled her into my chest for a hug, rubbing her back gently. "I wish I had. I wanted nothing more than to see you then, Skye, truly. But I'm here now. I promise."

She didn't say anything, but she didn't pull away either. Her sniffles were heard in the silence of the room and she kept a firm grip on my tee shirt, and I didn't know what else to do other than continue to rub her back soothingly.

At some point, we must have dosed off like that because when I opened my eyes next, it was morning. I yawned as I rubbed my face, confused to where I was at first. And then I recognised Skye's room and it all came back to me.

I looked beside me, seeing Skye fast asleep, face smushed against her pillow adorably. She looked a lot better than she did last night and I was glad for it, seriously worried about her. Hopefully she'd gotten some sleep after everything.

Trying not to stare too long, reminding myself that it wasn't very platonic of me, I looked away and carefully clambered out of her bed to freshen up. After doing so, I went into her kitchen to find something to eat.

I was eating from a bowl of cereal at her kitchen island when I heard footsteps, looking up to see her leaving her bedroom.

"Good morning," I greeted. "How are you feeling?"

She hummed tiredly, yawning and running a hand through her dishevelled hair. I couldn't help but smile at how cute she looked.

"Better," she finally spoke, brown eyes meeting mine across the counter. "Thanks, Y/N. For coming last night."

I shrugged. "It's okay."

She sighed, shaking her head, and looked down thoughtfully. After a moment, she said, "I know I haven't talked to you much about it all."

My expression softened. "I don't expect you to."

"I know," she said quietly, before meeting my gaze. "I want to. I do. Otherwise the way I am, how I act... it doesn't make sense and I don't want you to feel confused or think I'm insane or–"

"Hey," I cut her off, furrowing my brows. "I don't think that, Skye."

She chewed her lip momentarily, eyes flickering to the counter top. "I want you to know. Eventually. I just– it'll be bit by bit because I can't go through it all at once. It's too much."

I frowned sympathetically. "That's alright. You can tell me as little or as much as you want, whenever you want. Meanwhile, if you just want the support, I can give you that too. It's what friends do."

She smiled a little, nodding. "Right."

I studied her expression, unsure what to make of it. "Did you get any sleep? Last night?"

She nodded, looking up. "I did, yeah. Thanks for coming. I know it was late. And I'm sorry for breaking down on you."

I gave her a knowing look, offering a small smile. "You need to stop apologising."

She exhaled. "Sorry."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Never mind that. You want breakfast? I can make whatever you want, providing you have it of course."

She smiled as she took a seat. "That would be nice, yeah. Eggs couldn't hurt."

"Eggs it is then," I said, eating the last bite of my cereal before standing up. "Give me five minutes.”

She nodded and watched me, relaxed for even the smallest of moments, enough to put me at ease too.

[yesimwriting]

okay but after the whole lucy gray thing we know coryo was done with “love” and everything BUT what if during the following year of thg he ends up falling in love with another tribute also from district 12 and he’s just going through it bad (again) however he somehow ends up actually getting the girl in the end, maybe even buying her way into the capitol

A/n I've been thinking about a very specific part of this since i first read it but i told myself no more fic writing until i finished at least one of my essays for finals seasons 😭

also ik in the book (and it's implied in the movie) that after the events of the book he lives with the plinths, but let's pretend he lives on his own with access to the plinth fortune for privacy

ik that makes it sound like it's smutty, but it's not lol

----

Proximity aggravates distance. The closer you are to something, the more damage any remaining space causes.

The few feet dividing the two of you have no right to jab at something inside of him the way it does. It's bad enough that instead of going to bed after a long night of fulfilling his apprenticeship duties under Volumnia's watchful eye, he stopped by your apartment. Only one floor away from his.

For months, the only thing holding the two of you together had been memories of those few nights before the Games.

Coriolanus's attempt to remain indifferent towards you had quickly failed, and his backup plan of learning to loathe you had proven to be just as useless. So he settled on letting you unabashedly take his hand whenever fear overwhelmed you and committing the way your kind eyes watched him to memory.

You're looking around the room--his room--openly, eyes darting from the mahogany surface of his desk to the details elegantly carved into his bed frame.

His fingertips itch with the uncertain desire to reach for you. You've only been in the Capitol for about a day and a half. Less than 48 hours. But the move, the beginning of a program for certain, qualifying victors and their families, had been planned for months.

You shouldn't feel like a phantom that'll vanish if he lets go for too long. "What are you thinking about?"

The question grounds you the same way it did last time he asked. You do your best to hide it, but you're still adjusting, still surprised that he managed to find a way to bring you together again. Just like he promised. Your doubt isn't personal, a fact he has to remind himself of.

"I'm just..." You tilt your head slightly, gaze retreating from the royal blue wallpaper and silver trim of his bedroom walls, "Analyzing."

The comment is followed by an easygoing smile that pinches at something in his chest. His new apartment, the penthouse of one of the largest buildings in the city, another gift from the ever flowing well that is the Plinth fortune, still reeks of former poverty. The few things that hint at the personal are hidden behind layers of desperate wealth so thick the items might as well be standard.

A lifetime spent in 12 means that there's no way you can read between the lines. He can't decide if your perspective will make this room look worse or better. It's a nice bedroom, definitely grander than any bedroom you've stood in before...but it's understated. Maybe even disappointing to someone like you.

"Analyzing?"

You turn fully, "A bedroom says a lot about a person."

"You might get more out of analyzing my study," an oddly school boy worthy partial truth slips out before he can stop himself, "I think I've been spending more time there than here recently."

You shake your head once, eyes landing on the crimson red vase filed with crisp white roses his grandma'am had gifted him on his last visit. Her pride and joy now more than ever. "I'm seeing all I need."

A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. It's the most genuine expression that's slipped past him in weeks. When he first worked out a way to bring you here, some doubting part of him wondered if the draw he felt towards you would still exist in person.

Less than two weeks after your victorious departure from the Capitol, he had searched through your files and found your address. He had written the letter in a moment of weakness and only sent it after deciding that writing a letter to never be sent is the only thing more pathetic than writing to you in the first place. He had spent the week following that wallowing in self loathing until an age-stained envelope arrived at his door.

"And what are you seeing?" He keeps his tone light. This is ridiculous. He dragged himself and his family out of a gutter clogged by the casualties of war. Coriolanus is stronger than fleeting emotion now. Your opinions on his room can't possibly affect him.

If he were to simplify what brought you here, to the Capitol, to him, he could blame it on his bedroom. The urge to see you, to figure out some way the two of you closer together before your undeserving district could swallow you whole in an attempt to make you like them, would flare up whenever he received one of your letters.

Those urges, however, had never burned him. Not until you wrote about wanting to see him out of the most curious nostalgia you'd ever felt. You wanted to see him in a way that'd let you know what his room looked like, in a way that'd let you guess at his favorite color.

He takes a few steps forward, making the conscious decision to not reach for you. You've never rejected his advances, not even when he instinctually intertwined your fingers after picking you and your family up from the train station. You had scolded him after, telling him that you'd hear no end of it from your mother. It took a lot of focus for Coriolanus to not smile at that. You spoke of it like it would've never occurred to you to just pull your hand away.

Your eyes shift from end of the room to the other. Coriolanus moves carefully, passing you before sitting at the edge of his crisply made bed.

"Before you make your decision..." You turn instinctually, expression so polite and expecting he almost doesn't know how to bear it. His hand briefly pats the space beside him in a silent invitation. "So you can see it from all perspectives."

Your head tilts slightly, and for a moment, Coriolanus can practically feel your rejection. Then you move, sock clad feet treading over smooth white-gray marble. You sit next to him so assuredly, anyone else would have taken the way you neatly fold your hands in your lap as politeness instead of a display of nerves.

Your family's presence makes you less pliable. It's a factor he's willing to work around considering that you would've never left them to come to the Capitol. And even if he had managed to talk you into it, your nostalgia and homesickness would've made you more of a ghost to him than before.

At least the position your family's in is uncertain enough to allow for some leeway in the social norms that you cling to. However, every once in awhile it hits you that at the end of the day, he's still a boy that you're close to, which means that it's your duty to create the distance necessary to keep everything proper. Leaving your bedroom in the middle of the night because said boy knocked at your door and then entering his room in his empty penthouse is something you would've done under normal circumstances.

But your connection isn't that black and white. If it was something so simple, he would have been able to sever it the night before your Games.

"It makes all the difference," you agree warmly, and only somewhat sarcastically. You give yourself another second to take in the space, "I like it."

He can tell that you mean it. "I haven't fully settled in yet."

You shrug, paying him little mind, "There's something about it that just feels like you."

Coriolanus shifts his focus to the ground. You can't possibly mean it in the way that he sees the room, as a reminder that he still doesn't fully fit into who he's become.

"I've been meaning to pick up a few things," he says, "Tomorrow, after my classes, I was thinking about browsing some paintings." Another half truth. He had been meaning to. Mrs. Plinth had instructed him to visit her art dealer whenever he had enough free time to pick out a few pieces to demonstrate his taste. He'd been putting it off as a dismissable task, but it feels like a safe way to give you your first taste of life in the Capitol. "If you'd like to help me pick some out."

You smile, eyebrows pinching together in a way that's just barely noticeable. You're as interested as you are puzzled. "I'd like that." Relaxing enough to let your hand rest between the two of you, you beam, "I don't know if I'd be much help, but I'd like that."

He'd be willing to get anything that caught your eye. Paintings and vases already with such an exclusive art dealer hold more or less the same level of standing, anyway.

Coriolanus moves his hand slowly, careful not to startle you before his fingers can settle against your own. You instinctually turn over your palm, intertwining your fingers. "I trust you."

You stare at him with wide, understanding eyes. Sometimes when you look at him, really look at him, Coriolanus is struck with the feeling that you can see right through him. It's an irrational feeling, that every good action and cruel deed is reflected in his eyes. Moments like this make it hard to be near you. They also, however, make the thought of adding distance between the two of you unbearable.

"I have an early class."

You dip your chin forward in an attempt to accept what you're considering a dismissal. "Right, you must be tired." The words sit between you for a long moment.

Your free hand presses into the silk of your still new pajamas. You shift like you're going to stand. His hold on your hand tightens before you can move away. You still.

He's being ridiculous. There's nothing about this situation that warrants his inability to look at you. "Stay here." His thumb runs across your knuckles. "With me."

The words are soft enough to be a request, but there's not enough space between them for questioning. He cautiously lifts his head enough to take in your reaction.

"What?" It's a display of shock more than an actual question. Coriolanus squeezes your hand even tighter. You don't try to get him to let go, but you do shift away just enough to create the reminder of distance. "You know I can't."

His other hand reaches forward, settling against your wrist. "Why not?" He doesn't mean for his voice to come off as raspy, as desperate as it does.

You swallow, attempting to straighten your spine in an attempt to offset the instinctual urge to hide your face. This isn't a topic you're even comfortable implying. "My mother would kill me if she so much as found out that I came up here so late, let alone..." You trail off, head dropping to your lap. "Stayed here."

He envelops your hand between both of his. "She knows we're friendly."

You look up just long enough to imply a pointed not that friendly. "It's--" You blink, eyes darting from to your joint hands and then finally to the ground. "You know it's..."

Coriolanus leans forward. The shift is small, just enough for his knee to brush against yours. "It's what?" He keeps his voice low, a barely there whisper that comes off as so innocent it nearly circles back to anything but.

You glance up, so wide eyed and flighty he's reminded of a rabbit. The level of precaution you're exuding can't just be about your mother's opinions, can it? He studies your expression openly, taking in the set of your eyebrows and the way you steadily press your lips together to avoid speaking without thinking. At least some part of you believes in your mother's concerns.

The realization strike shim so quickly he has to focus on keeping his expression neutral. Your bond is so much more than just coming together on a random night where exhaustion's already clouding his focus.

It will happen between the two of you. Eventually. But not yet. You've barely entered the Capitol and every aspect of your life has become vastly different than what you're accustomed to. If he were to attempt to cement any relationship between the two of you like that now, you'd be too overwhelmed or you might think that that's the only reason he brought you here.

He learned early on that it's best to introduce adjustments to you slowly, giving you enough time to hold onto ideas before enacting them. Anything of that nature would work that way too.

"I haven't been able to see much of you." He focuses on your hand, still resting safely between both of his. The words came out too quickly, a flash of some genuine sort of emotion that claw at him on the way out. With you, sometimes a glimpse of feeling works wonders.

Your thumb draws gentle patterns against the side of his hand. "You're busy." He relaxes his hand, turning over his palm. You place his hand on your knee, fingers tracing the natural creases etched into his skin. "You're important."

The way that last word comes out makes an uncertain warmth crawl up his neck. "I--I've wanted to see you more." Another thing he means so much it turns his stomach to admit it.

Your nail drags down a line that cuts across the length of his hand. "Me too."

He bends his fingers slowly, moving in until he's trapped your pointer finger against his palm. "Then stay." You twist your finger enough to express some lighthearted irritation, but not enough to count as a real attempt at escaping. "If your mother says anything, I'll explain it to her." You glare at him without any true aggression. "She likes me, doesn't she?"

Coriolanus already knows the answer. She credits your survival to him. You had mentioned that in a letter once, telling him that she insisted you pass along her gratitude after discovering that the two of you had started to correspond regularly.

He also saw the way she reacted to realizing that she had made it to the Capitol. Your mother's family had once been part of the wealthier side of 12. You're part of a recently fallen line of mine owners, a fact that your mother has only pretended to let go of. He saw a hunger behind her eyes that reminded him of a warped version of his own.

Coriolanus gave her back the pride the war had stolen from her family name tenfold. He owes her this much.

"She'd trade me for you in a heartbeat." He hears the grin in your voice more than he sees it. Your family means the world to you, which means he's subjected himself to seeking your mother's validation and winning over your two younger sisters.

It's not the way he'd choose to spend his limited free time, especially with you standing right there, but he's endured worse for less of a pay off. "Then she'd be a fool."

You fight to hold his gaze. "I doubt that."

Your eyes are pools of honest, unfiltered affection. The care that you're watching him with makes it hard to swallow. The instinct to press, to dig and claw and tear anything that could be hiding an ulterior motive into shreds makes it hard to take a full breath. You've always worn your heart on your sleeve. You're not a flighty songbird that uses its charm to distract its prey from its fang-like talons.

"Stay." Again. So breathless he almost doesn't recognize the word as his own.

The deliberation is transparent behind your eyes. You're considering it, but you're still not convinced. The hesitation stings in a way he doesn't understand. "I don't want to give her a reason to not like you."

So softly spoken he's shocked by the way the words manage to feel like a nail being hammered into his chest.

"She's let you stay with other people before." The response is too sharp, too sudden. He should refocus and think through what he's about to say. Coriolanus knows that it's easier to get you to agree to something through the use of honey sweetened words and displays of patience. "You wrote about him."

The confusion that briefly etches its way into your expression threatens to quell the uncomfortable swell of jealousy tightening his chest. "Warren?" The name makes tints the air between you with something acidic. "That was--different."

Your explanation adds an edge to the pressure in his chest. "Why?"

"We weren't--" You cut yourself off, the instinct to placate him and your desire to not start a conversation you can't finish battling each other oddly. "We were never alone." You squeeze his hand as best as you can. "He's a family friend and I only stayed over when my mom had to work late and I was too young to be alone for so long, so I haven't stayed over in years. And--and he shared a room with three of his siblings and his parents checked on us constantly."

He frowns, unconvinced. The lack of approval has you clinging to him, adjusting your hold on his hand as you gently trail your knuckles against the inside of his wrist. "I do miss you." You stare at your hands. "I know it's weird because we're--y'know--closer than before, but I-I do miss you."

The expanding wave of tension in his chest begins to deflate. You're good at that, at redirecting and soothing without even realizing it. A talent that had contributed to his original desire to loathe you. "I understand that." He runs his thumb over your knuckles. "Things aren't going to get less busy. That's why I want to use all the time we have."

You nod slowly, a hint of understanding making its appearance in the set of your brow. "I know."

"What you wrote," he begins, too aware of how much he means the question that follows, "Did you mean it."

"Of course I did." Not an ounce of hesitation, of uncertainty.

He turns your hand over before shifting his fingers up the inside of your wrist. "You wrote about wanting to see me."

"I did..." The pad of his thumb gently makes its way up your forearm. Your even breathing falters. "I do."

Coriolanus lets himself look up just enough to take in your expression. "Then stay." He swallows, too aware of the sudden dryness of his mouth. "Please."

You glance up at him through your lashes. There's a softness there that jabs at him. "Okay."

He lifts the back of your hand, carefully brushing his lips against your skin. "You mentioned wanting to see a library."

You wrote about it once. A brief mention in one of your letters of the small room in your school's office that served as a sort of communal study space with a few books stacked on a small shelf. Your longing had been clear.

Nodding curiously, you agree, "Yeah?"

"I could leave for my classes a little earlier tomorrow, you could come with me." The proposal comes out slowly, his own suggestion taking him by surprise. "My driver could bring you back, that'll give you time to meet the tutor that's being sent over for your sisters, and then when I get back we'll look at the paintings."

You immediately grin, "Really?"

He finds himself smiling back, pulling your arm closer. "Whatever you want."

You beam. "I'd really like that."

"Good," he affirms with a nod of his head that's a touch too forward. He regrets it almost immediately. "If you like it, I might be able to get your own tutor to meet you at a library."

Part of the still uncertain victor program relies on setting up the victor and their family with a new life. Education plays a role in that. Placing any one of you in an actual Capitol run institution is far out of the question. For everyone's sake. Even if the thought of sharing a classroom with someone from 12 didn't horrify the Capitol parents, you and your siblings wouldn't be able to just jump in. It's not that he views you as unintelligent, but District 12's education system isn't exactly on par with the Capitol's.

"That sounds nice," you sit up a little straighter, excited by the prospect, "A part of me kind of misses school."

Another aspect of your personality that he had learned about after your Games. You like school for the sake of it. "I'll check on the arrangements tomorrow."

He clears his throat before you can do more than just nod, "It's getting late."

Coriolanus carefully sets your hand down on the comforter. You awkwardly shift, now more aware of what you agreed to than ever. "Right," you push yourself to stand, "You need your sleep."

He pulls back his sheets before you can think about it even further. You crawl into the provided space without looking at anything in particular. He's quick to join you beneath the safety of plush bedding before leaning over and turning off the bedside lamp.

Darkness floods the space. There's something about the absence of light that makes things feel heavier. The potential intimacy of the situation sneaks up on him with no warning.

This isn't a loss of control. It can't be. It was his idea, he had pushed and convinced you to stay here. He's aware of everything that's led up to this moment, but that's not enough to stop him from wondering if this is something than he should have known better than to embrace. He had accepted the familiar, fickle knotting of his stomach once before.

Steady warmth presses itself against his arm. He blinks, head turning a second too quickly. Your hand has found his. Coriolanus relaxes, allowing himself to fully relax against his pillow. You pick up on his shift, reflecting it by laying down as well.

For someone that had been so hesitant, you seem to know what to do better than he does. You pull his arm towards you, gently trailing your fingers against the exposed skin. Heat crawls up his neck.

"Goodnight," you mumble, voice already drowsy.

Coriolanus lets out a long breath. He grasps your hand, bringing it back to his lips before settling back into the position the two of you were in before. "Goodnight."

[stevieschrodinger]

I really want to write this fic but I don't have time so have this.

Post upside down, everyone lives/nobody dies.

Steve and Eddie get together, Steve deals with his gay crisis. Eddie works through his 'holy shit I'm dating Steve Harrington' crisis, and they settle together. It actually turns into a long term relationship and Eddie starts to get comfortable.

Steve does not.

Steve's got a string of rejection and one night stands behind him, so he's kind of watching for signs of the same from Eddie.

Eddie settles in for the long haul, so the honeymoon period kind of wears off a little. Maybe it takes a while, maybe a year or a little more, but it does happen. They get jobs, Eddie has band practice and DnD nights.

And Steve Harrington who has confused sex with love since he was fourteen, doesn't handle it well. He starts keeping track of every time Eddie is 'too tired' or 'ive literally just showered, I wanted to sleep' or ' Steve I wanted to watch this movie' or the hundred other reasons Eddie turns him down all the time.

Eddie doesn't even try to initiate sex anymore, he just turns Steve down half the time or more. And Steve's got a hell of a sex drive, he knows, but Eddie's refusals hurt. They hurt every time, they make him feel unwanted, worthless. Unloved.

And worse, Steve likes their place to be tidy. Something that doesn't even seem to register with Eddie. He seems to be actually blind to anything untidy, like he literally can't see the dishes in the sink or all the books and crap he's left everywhere.

And it drives Steve fucking nuts. He says something. Eddie responds with 'leave it, I'll get it,' but Eddie's time frames for 'getting it' seems to be days long, despite it being a ten minute job.

So Steve stops complaining, and just accepts that Eddie doesn't care at all about how Steve feels, considering Steve has tried to explain to Eddie that he literally can't settle if his space is too messy.

Eddie doesn't even seem to want to understand.

Steve suddenly feels like he's committing some sort of crime because he wants their place to be tidy.

So he just does it all, keeps his mouth shut, and accepts the fact that Eddie doesn't love him. Because Eddie doesn't want him, and Eddie doesn't care about how he feels, and it doesn't matter that Eddie tells him he loves him a hundred times a day, because words don't mean shit.

It's action that talks.

And that goes on for ages, Steve slowly becoming more and more worn down. He stops trying to initiate sex; he's pretty certain Eddie doesn't even notice.

Steve cries about it when Eddie isn't there. Thinks about packing up and just leaving and going to Robs for a while. Thinks he's being melodramatic even if it doesn't feel it.

Comes home after a long day at work and the place is a mess and Eddie's just. Laid on the sofa. Steve looses it.

And he cries like, angry embarrassed tears as it all comes spilling out. And then he just...locks himself in the bathroom.

And obviously they sort it and live happily ever after and meet in the middle with all this stuff. Eddie probably talks to the girls about it and Robs just like..

So do the dishes? It takes two minutes and it will make him happy? You want him to be happy right? And she is right, so Eddie just...spends 20 minutes a day tidying. 20 minutes is nothing, and Steve always looks so thrilled and pleased when he comes home and everything is tidy. So it's easy to just get in the habit of doing it, especially when Steve's so grateful and affectionate with his thanks, and Eddie didn't realise until that moment how cold and absent Steve had become.

Eddie's sex drive just isn't as high as Steve's, it just isn't, but he finds when he's not in the mood, Steve is happy to jerk off while Eddie plays with his nipples and kiss him and tell him how much he loves him.

[really-good-devil]

x men and marvel characters (wolverine, daredevil, gambit, nightcrawler, etc) with transmasc boyfriend.... please i beg of you

anon i see you i see you i'm thanking you for this. i just ran with this i hope its to your liking

MARVEL IMAGINES WITH TRANSMASC BOYFRIEND

content: religion mention (majority positively), medical/social transition implied, dysphoria, transphobia

Wolverine:

For someone almost 200 years old, he has a bit to learn upon meeting you

Obviously Morph is a help with this + definitely had to give him a PowerPoint presentation

His view of masculinity somewhat is skewed but he is very insistent on treating you like a man because you identify as a man and if that means anything to you then it means something to him

Flannels! He absolutely gives you his baggy coats when you make a comment on needing more masculine clothes (not to mention the smell that his clothes leave on you is a big plus, so sue him, okay?)

Workout regiment is always taken care of and you never skip chest and arm day

He calls you "darlin'" once and then immediately goes "aw shit" because it might be too "lady-like" (his words) but he gets over it very quickly

Mutant hate? He understands all too well. Transphobia? Whole new ballgame, but it makes him just as mad. As in, he has no problem almost kabobbing someone who makes a comment about you going into a bathroom when he takes you out to one of his preferred bars

He soon realizes after that that maybe you need better hangouts and though he doesn't think the beer is as good at the other places, it's worth it to him

To him, assholes like that are no less ignorant than those who attack mutants because its all the same so he gets feisty on the defense

Once when the body dysphoria is real bad, like the kind when mirrors are the worst thing in the world and everything feels gross and tight, he listens and holds you very tightly and though he can't understand half of it, he does understand self-hatred and it hurts him something fierce

So he'll go out of his way at that point to make it known that you are one of strongest guys he knows because you're going through change and sticking to yourself and he loves it about you

He offhandedly once mentions using his claws for top surgery in an attempt to be funny and neither of you know how to react in that moment but it actually is kind of funny much later

Nightcrawler:

Much more up to speed than some others

He's not unused to the ideas of the intricacies and ideas of gender from his time in the circus and seeing the different lifestyles at play there

There's some trepidation on some people's parts about how Kurt will react considering his religion and the history, but it very hardly factors in

Very flirtatious after he gets the okay to move forward even if it's new to him

Does everything he would try to do with his previous lovers; he loves flowers that remind him of you

Constantly trying to involve you in things that he enjoys that he would hope you enjoy

Movie nights are a favorite of his and even if they end up being more modern, he's always willing to give it a chance

Kurt of all people knows what it is like to be judged and ridiculed for how you look or how people perceive someone

Body positivity is a huge part for him; complimenting your frame, your body hair, your hands

After all, his own body is not what many would consider normal, but it is still his and he accepts it, so he'll literally be damned if he can't help with that

His whole thing is finding someone new that's nice to say every day (which isn't very hard for him, tbh)

When he hears you accept any of it he gets so excited that his tail wags and he peppers you with kisses that sometimes have little nips from his fangs but they're all gentle

Loves to take you up to the top of the X-Mansion to have semi-romantic getaways and look out at the night sky and think of things far beyond where you both are right now, though he know he is happiest right at your side

Gambit:

Meets you when you first arrive to the mansion and is instantly drawn to you

Ever the gentleman while he's trying to get to know you, almost like chivalry is his default no matter the gender

After you first confess your feelings his favorite card becomes his King of Hearts

You tell him it's cheesy but he is happy that you approve

He leaves it with you the first time he goes on a mission and though he didn't doubt that you would lose it, he is so happy when he sees you kept it you can literally feel his kinetic energy reserves when he kisses you deep

His favorite is on those rare occasions where you get to dress up, whether it's for a party or infiltrating something

He loves trying to find coordinating or inverse outfits accessories if that's the case (nothing huge, but small ways to show that you two are together)

Pet names constantly

He works with his hands often so he uses them constantly to explore your body and he has magic fingers in many ways

You're so perfect to him in every way imaginable

Matt Murdock:

You meet Matt in Josie's a while after moving to the area in a new area to "start fresh"

It's not that he hustles you but you don't expect to lose at pool to him

He's very charming and easy to learn from and it takes a while but eventually you do get together

Walks around the neighborhood as an excuse to get to know things end up being tiny dates

Foggy and Karen exchanging tiny looks over Matt's boyfriend but very happy for him

You're unaware of his double life but do end up having to fuss over his scrapes

Eventually you have to explain to him and it's awkward but he just seems to take you in without seeing you and he smiles a bit and its okay from then on

You think he's just super understanding and forgiving but no he's actually known for a while

He's been very perceptive of changes in you as you transition further; he knows when you just had a T shot from how you body is working just a bit harder because of it, when your voice gets a bit deeper between the times he sees you

He also had to do a background check because you can't be too careful at this point

But though it's insanely new to him since he hasn't been with a man, he does love you with no shame

He knows what you look like vaguely but always asks anyway because he wants you to explain what you see of yourself

Always very seriously and not seriously ready to remind you that he is part of fine law firm should you need to win a case against someone at the slightest complaint

You always feel safe and seen, in a way, with him, and it never really changes

‐----------------------

I hope you enjoyed this! If you did, feel free to request more like this or a fic! Requests are open and I have masterpost here and a list of characters and ships I'd write for here. Thanks for reading!

(Also lmk if any of these are interesting enough you'd want to see more of, bc the Matt and Kurt ones I would definitely be open to making a fic so stay tuned if it happens.)

[crazymuffin1]

this post is for people who wonder what the hell is going on with the venom movies/fandom because they havent watched it

if youre seeing it on your dash and dont want to scroll very long press J. if youre on mobile. cope.

venom the last dance is the third movie in the venom series and people who haven't watched the movies are probably wondering whats going on. whoever you're following has probably posted or reblogged some sort of eddie brock x venom thing. yes of course. mlm ships are popular and theyre the main characters. of course theyre gonna get shipped. just like stucky or other hot main male characters. nothing really special about these guys. right?

wrong! because as opposed to the other ones being non-canon ships where we just look at everything and say "thats gay" or look at it through shipping tinted glasses, symbrock is a bit special.

to start off with! the source material! the comics! im not gonna make this part long, just a bunch of images with short descriptions and you can interpret it however you want (click for full image)

panels ofter referred to as "the ones where they have sex"

no comment

even spider-man knows

aaaaaand the comic writers/artists also know

theres more (like how they have a kid and eddie experienced morning sickness...) but this is about the movie! not the comics!

first movie moments. im skipping smaller moments and i'll try to not write out the whole plot.

eddie and venom go through a whole car chase scene on a motorbike, and the moment eddie calls him cool, they get his by a car. often interpreted as venom losing focus from the praise

-omg why would that lead to venom losing focus?? because venom, on its planet, is a loser. bottom of the barrel. an outcast. and someone called it cool. venom sees that eddie is also a bit of a loser on his planet. theyre two losers together. Eddie asks why he doesnt just kill him and hop to another host, but venom says that hes a good match (other bodies reject the symbiote, and die from organ failure/eaten from the inside) and venom is "starting to like him" venom also gets a bit stuck on the moment that eddie says we instead of i. its both of them. together.

later eddie finds out his organs were failing (venom was starving and was working on fixing it) and when they get seperated the way he acts is kind of framed like a bad breakup. its not "im free from this parasite! yippie!" its "i trusted you and you hurt me. we're done" sort of breakup. venom tries to say he was trying to fix it but eddie ignores it (not the exact words but if you look at it you'll get it)

eddie gets taken away by the bad guys and venom hops on eddies ex and they reunite. and its not just reunite.

its this

thumbnail shows human face but it does not start off with that.

fun fact! theres a sort of deleted scene where eddie asks "who was i kissing just then?" and she says "mostly me" and then we hear venoms voice saying "well actually it was mostly me!" ALSO at the end of the movie, she says it was venoms idea. this was venom and eddie making out. not eddie and his ex. they do not get back together. she has a new boyfriend and they've moved in together so its serious.

venoms original purpose as to why the symbiotes are on earth was as a scouting party for an invasion force. venom changes his mind on being on the invasion part. eddie asks what REALLY made him change his mind "you did eddie."

also after the movie was in theaters they made an additional romcom trailer to promo the dvd/blueray release. the movie. framed as a romcom. im not kidding. on sonys official youtube. for both movies.

speaking of both movies, the second one has them breaking up! full on divorce after fighting and arguing!! very sad. and then venom goes to a rave (october, there are costumes, hes fully transformed) and says "i am out! of the eddie closet!" HES COMING OUT OF THE CLOSET. one person at the rave has a mask on that says "kiss me" and venom says "sorry no, not my type" THEN WHAT IS YOUR TYPE HUH??? MEN?? SWEATY LOSER GUYS??? his hosts keep failing because theyre not as compatible as eddie. and after having fun venom is sad and wishes eddie could've seen him. they of course, get back together* after some apologizes and because they need to fight a serial killer who also has a symbiote (carnage) because previously, they went to interview him, he insulted eddie, venom got mad on eddies behalf and grabbed him, resulting in getting bit, and that spawned a new symbiote from the blood. also the serial killer, (cletus kassidy) went to bust out his girlfriend who upon seeing his tentacles breaking her glass cage, called it hot.

*when they get reunited (anne helps out again) theres no kiss this time, and annes fiancee, after seeing them fight, says "those two need some serious couples counseling"

after a big climactic fight and mutual reassuring that theyre a perfect match for one another, they flee to some random place in mexico where they sort of have a love confession. theres an extended deleted version of it but i think many of us think they cut it down to save it for the third movie. also they get transported to the mcu in the post-credit and then re-appear in the post-credit of spider-man where theyre just sitting at a bar asking the bartender about the blip and thanos. venom decides to go skinny dip but they get transported back to their universe. net zero gain.

THE THIRD MOVIE

hasnt come out yet. but the promotional things. the trailer. my god the tiktoks and twitter clips?? WHY IS THE TIKTOK VIDEO CAPTION VENOM X EDDIE 4EVER??? HUH???? WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME!?!?! IF I GET QUEERBAITED IM GONNA EXPLODE WHY IS ONE OF THEM FRAMED LIKE A COUPLES COUNSELING HELP GUIDE.

i cant post this one on tumblr but this tiktok is a slideshow, one image of venom and eddie from each movie, and the background song is "I've loved you three summer Lover - Taylor swift" with the caption "it's a love love relationship"

WE JUST WANT THEM TO KISS AGAIN AND HAVE A MUTUAL, EXPLICIT, LOVE CONFESSION. AND HAVE 4 HOURS TENTACLESEX SCENE. (not necessarily in that order)

and the first trailer that came out for venom3 has the line"eddie, my home [long pause] has found us" like girrrrrllll for a full 3 seconds i thought he was saying that eddie is his home.

[noneorother]

The secret timeline inside of Good Omens season 2 revealed, *part1*

Part 1 l Part 2

If you’ve ever watched a ballet or an opera, you know how the rhythm in the music is used throughout to determine not only the movements of the dancers, but also when lines are sung or spoken. This is almost unheard of in television, but what if I told you it was hidden in season 2 of Good Omens? If one were to, say, meticulously cut together only the scenes set in the present day into one big timeline, you would get one long video that is exactly 2 hours 22 minutes 00 seconds and 00 frames long. An ineffable cut that is so perfect it defies all logic. (I’ve burnt a timecode into this ineffable edit to help pick up the rhythm.)

Even though there are large swathes of the second season with no music, there is a constant tempo weaving its way through the show: What if the seconds ticking by in the runtime itself was the music? Here’s an example of what I found. Behold a supercut of every single time Shax shows up, or Hell is mentioned in series 2 in the ineffable edit. They always arrive on a 6 in the time stamp (ex: 00:XX:X6).

(SOUND ON is an absolute must here, otherwise you won't hear any of the triggers)

Shax rings Crowley on a XX:X6. Shax miracles herself into the car on a XX:X6. Shax knocks on windows on a XX:X6. Shax’s big scary moment at the bookshop happens at 66 minutes exactly (lol). Crowley calls out for Shax on a XX:X6. Beelzebub starts spewing flies on a 6. People mention hell and it’s always on XX:X6 etc. etc…(Bonus: I also left in Maggie flipping the damned the double-bird on a XX:X6) I’ve also left in the only appearance of Shax or hell at all in the whole series that isn’t tied to a six: the park bench scene with Crowley. Shax seems to be off by one line, showing up on a XX:10, then back to XX:X6 on her second reply: “Bills, mostly”. I can only theorise that this scene, while technically in season 2, is not supposed to *be* in season 2 (even just judging by the trees, sun and the overcoats, it’s not summer like in the rest of the season). And it’s not only sixes! Every time I go through I find more and more little beats that line up exactly with ineffable timings. I can only do one video per post, so I’ll have to cut it up into sections, but Gabriel, doors, car horns, bird calls, Aziraphale, food, drinks, Angels, dialogue, Maggie, Nina, jokes, clocks, bells… The list goes on and on. 

Neil called this season “The bridge”

Because we all know how much Neil loves double meanings and wordplay, I just have to ponder the idea that when Neil said this season was “the bridge” between seasons 1 and 3, he meant it double-literally. First, as in the bridge Aziraphale and Crowley have to cross in order to get them into position for the second coming. We even see the physical manifestation of this bridge leading everyone in the background of the opening credits. But this season is also a bridge in the sense that it’s a musical section that introduces new ideas or material in the middle of a song. This whole season is the music that deviates from the familiar, and re-contextualizes the chorus and the verses so we can appreciate them in a new way. 

Let’s not forget that 2:22 is also exactly the same timing as this (and only this) track from the good omens s2 album (read all about the soundtrack here):

Why is this so bonkers? I think GOS2 might be the first ever “Total” series of television.

Having everything in the series timed and choreographed would actually make it a very faithful adaptation of the Powell & Pressburger film The Tales of Hoffmann (read about the movie and it’s effect on all of s2 here). If you watch the tales of Hoffman, you will realize that the entire film is actually done more like animation, with the music and vocals all performed in a studio, mixed and edited first, and then the actors came back to act out their choreographed and lip-synched parts for the cameras afterwards. The result is "Total film": a movie that feels more like a ballet, with every movement, action, and line happening in time with the music. As far as I can tell, very few films have ever attempted this, with The Tales of Hoffmann and Playtime being the only two “complete” films I could find in this style. (The Red shoes has one section, and An American In Paris has a few)

“Why would ambitious filmmakers simply film an opera? Many admirers of the work of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger have assumed that their decision to make The Tales of Hoffmann (…) was in some way an admission(…) that they couldn’t go on making their edgy, over-the-top melodramas after the rejection and interference they’d suffered, (but) there’s a case for considering The Tales of Hoffmann as one of the finest and boldest works that Powell and Pressburger produced, so far ahead of its time as a wholly “composed” film... Late in his life, Powell himself said that he thought it was one of the best films that he and Pressburger had made.” - Criterion review, Tales of Hoffmann

Here’s a simple example from An American in Paris

If season 2 *is* scripted and choreographed to line up with specific timings, I’m pretty sure that would make this the first ever “total” or “composed” season of television ever attempted. Not only does this take an ASTOUNDING amount of planning, scripting and editing finesse, not to mention a completely controlled set, it takes a real understanding of how to perform as an actor using rhythm and metre, which would go a long way to explain why all of the main actors coming back for season 2, with the exception of John Hamm, are well regarded theatre performers, (especially of Shakespeare).

I’ll leave you with one last surprise I found in the discovery of the ineffable edit: remember Aziraphale’s smile at the very end if the credits? It happens on 02:23:03, as the first step off the bridge, and into season 3.

I will have much more in the next ineffable timeline post. Stay tuned…

__________________________________________

Thanks for reading all the way to the end. It’s taken me a solid month to get this perfect. There are so many hidden cuts and jumps to take into account, and I had a frame rate issue that kept exporting to 29fps instead of 25fps, but I’ve finally nailed the ineffable timeline enough that I am confident sharing in it.

Credits to @thebluestgreen and @embracing-the-ineffable for all the support and help with editing and just general good vibes. 

[eastbubble]

set in the 2000’s ;)

young!09!simon always made sure you had everything you could ever ask for, he never wanted to show it to you how much he was struggling. he could be using his last two pounds up to buy you ice cream that day but he would still pull up in his beat-up car to pick you up from school, bad quality radio blasting as he reached over to the passenger side to open the door for you from inside.

his signature sunglasses that he had been using ever since he graduated from high school always covering his deep brown eyes, proud smile on his lips while wearing that pair of oakleys. they were a size too big on his head but you just giggled and told him he’ll grow into them or whatever.

simon was just one year older than you and he took every chance to flex that he wasn’t in school anymore. he told you every single time he saw you how he was a person who was working two jobs and was earning money for himself and you! but he never told you how he had to help pay the bills at home and that was why one job wasn’t enough. you didn’t have to know.

every friday afternoon he picked you up from school because that was his only free afternoon, and he took you somewhere beautiful. he was begging his friend whose father owned a gas station somewhere two cities away from london to lend him some more fuel and he promised he’ll pay it back as soon as he could. he went to cafes to order the cheapest, plainest tea they had and he sat at the table with the most magazines on it, reading through articles made for middle-aged women about pretty places in this area. he spent hours at a gardening store, staring at the photos on the bags of flower seeds so he could grow the prettest one out for you (because seeds were cheaper than getting an actual boquet..).

he just wanted to show you the beauties of the nature around you. he wanted to show you that everything was alright and he also wanted to show you that he cared. you were his everything, you were worth everything.

and after a long walk in some kind of forest far away, after hours spent staring at the long trees just to finally find and read some kind of faintly painted sign for tourists because you two got lost somewhere, the car seat was always the comfiest bed. it was so inviting, you just sat inside the car and laid your head back against the concrete-hard headrest.

“how ‘bout a shake at maccies on the way back home?” simon asked with a small little grin, but you could only shake your head tiredly, exhaustion running through your body. you tried to collect some of your remaining energy to climb across the center console, turning yourself around and placing one knee between his thighs while your other leg was still on the passenger side. you could already see his smile widening and his eyes shining with the most love you’ve ever seen come from a man. the way he looked at you was really something not even cheesy romance movies could nail to portray.

“wa-wait, sweetheart, hold on-“ he chuckled gently while grabbing you by your waist, making sure you landed safely, right into his lap. “what’s up, baby-“ was all he could utter out before you flashed him the sweetest smile he had ever seen before, and then pushing your lips against his right after that. he was so caught off guard that he even struggled to kiss you back for a few seconds, though he quickly realized what was going on and he began kissing you his favorite way — sucking on your tongue softly.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in close as you occasionally broke the kiss to take a few fluttering little breaths and sneak in a few gentle giggles against his sweet lips. in the meanwhile, his palms and fingers were obviously roaming all over your body, mapping it all up for himself like he had done many times before but he could never get bored of tracing and curves. at this point, he could draw your entire body from memory (not like he hadn’t done it before, there were crappy crayon drawings of your pretty frame hung up on his wall).

gentle and warm hands peeled your denim jacket off of you, tossing it aside to who knows where, it couldn’t disappear in this small car anyways. his smile against your lips was huge when his heart swelled with victory, unclasping your bra so easily through your t-shirt — what a talent to have, ladies and gentlemen!

your fingers worked on unbuttoning the buttons under the collar of his striped shirt? you ran your fingertips along the little man riding a horse right above his heart, ralph lauren my ass.. did he read this in some kind of style magazine at the cafe once again? this silly guy. a chuckle left your mouth once again when you realized how much he was actually doing for you, your fingers instinctively leaving the buttons alone and then quickly moving down to the zipper of his jeans, unzipping it while hitting him with a smile that made him feel all dizzy in the head!

setting you free from your shorts, he leaned away for a second, reaching into the glove compartment on the left side of the car, fishing out a box of condoms. he was relieved when he found them there, where else would they be anyways? soft laughs escaped the tight prison of his mouth when he took one out and held it between his index and middle finger, reading the date faintly printed on it — “it’s expired..” he chuckled.

“i don’t care-“

“hm?”

“i said i don’t care, idiot.” you giggled while pulling him in for another kiss, seeing him toss the entire box aside, probably catching him incredibly off guard with your little sentence but his muscles still reacted immediately.

and just one or two minutes later you were already bouncing on his hard cock, lips always connected, if not by tangled tongues then by a thick string of saliva. how nasty! when he realized your thighs were getting sore from moving up and down all the time, he helped you, grabbing your hand that was slipping down from his neck and interwining your fingers with his bigger ones. he bucked his hips up from under you, hoping that it felt good for you.

“fuuuck..” he mumbled under his breath, that cheeky grin never leaving his lips, no matter how much he was melting away at your touch. “so good f’ me-“

and you drank all of his praises up, feeling his veiny length twitch inside of you as he was probably using all of his willpower trying to keep himself from cumming right into you that instant. his head was hitting your cervix when you sat down right on his entire cock, gently moving and swirling your hips while still keeping himself fully inside of your sweet little cunt. you once read on some kind of forum that you should try spelling out ‘coconut’ like this and even though you never really thought it would work too much, you decided to give it a try, moving your body in the shape of the circle-like letters.

he was whining, whimpering even when you were only done with the first two letters of the word, making you giggle so much upon hearing the deep breaths he took and the powerful sighs he let out. “w-what are you doing baby, feels so- so.. good-“ he mumbled out somehow.

“shh.. coconut-“ you whispered, unable to conceal your cheeky little grin.

“what..?” he laughed gently between two moans, his hips bucking upwards desperately as he was probably so damn overstimulated already, the tip of his cock continously kissing your womb. it was too much for him, his brain going foggy and stupid when you resumed your primitive little bouncing on his thick dick, his hands stuttering and clawing at your tight little butt to take handfuls of your soft fat, trying to grab as much as he could. “f-fuck, baby, i think i’ll-“

“si..” you giggled softly. goofy sex every friday afternoon. forgetting about all that debt he had piled up, forgetting about your assignments due monday and forgetting about the windows so obviously fogging up.

it was routine every week until he enlisted.

[ironunderstands]

Double Indemnity, Spellbound and how a retroactive plot twist kicked the communities ass (which also has some VERY interesting implications for Aventio)

I had a very enlightening conversation on TikTok about the nature of these two romance/thrillers, and while unfortunately, I have no idea how to watch them, the plot synopses I’ve seen and analysis other people have made have caused me to come to this conclusion/interpretation of these references:

On the first viewing of the Double Indemnity questline, the reference to the DI movie is meant to be played straight, with Aventurine and Ratio being just as doomed to fail as they are in the movie, and their relationship as equally as toxic and fake.

On second viewing, it’s the complete opposite, and the track (and other movie reference) you receive at the end, Spellbound, proves it.

Let’s start with Double Indemnity.

Also disclaimer I’m gonna be over simplifying the plot/themes of these movies because a) both are singular references, DI is only referenced in the name of the quest itself and Spellbound is only referenced in a track you receive once you complete DI, and references this small probably aren’t meant to be anything more than a fun Easter egg for those who notice it b) this is hoyoverse they aren’t clever enough for that anyways c) the nature of references isn’t going to be having everything be the exact same anyways, so I’m just going to go with the overall interpretation of DI + Spellbound/their impact, picking the stuff which aligns with the actual plot of the DI quest, I don’t care what happens in one frame at 30:01.56 minutes in and neither do the writers

Anyways, how does the Double Indemnity reference on the first viewing seem?

On our first play through of the Double Indemnity quest, we are made to believe that Dr. Ratio and Aventurine do not trust each other, but they are begrudgingly working together for the sake of stealing Penacony for the IPC. Then, Aventurine makes it seem as if he wishes to use the singer Robin’s- also the sister of Sunday, the head of the Oak Family and the one they are negotiating with- death as a means to pressure Sunday into forking over some of the Family’s secrets, which Aventurine will then use against him in future negotiations.

With this setup, the Double Indemnity reference is a solemn warning- Aventurine and Ratio will fail.

You see, in the movie, Phyllis Dietrechson intends to kill her husband in order to earn the money from the Double Indemnity clause (which is a real legal thing btw!), roping in one Walter Neff when he falls for her. However, their relationship isn’t stable and in the end, Walter betrays Phyllis, ratting her out to the investigator Keyes, ultimately meaning they don’t earn the DI clause, also killing Phyllis in the process.

Hopefully you can already see where I’m going with this, but it’s time to draw some fun parallels.

Sunday is Keyes, Ratio is Walter, Aventurine is Phyliss and Robin is Phyliss’s husband.

Although Aventurine a) isn’t married to Robin and b) he didn’t actually kill her, he is the one who witnessed her “death” and in the first viewing of the Double Indemnity quest, we are made to believe he intends to profit off of it, although this time the payout isn’t money: it’s Penacony.

To do this, he enlists the help of Ratio- albeit not seducing him, but still convincing him to help nonetheless- and together they go to meet Sunday for negotiations.

However, Ratio “betrayed” Aventurine, ratting him out to Sunday behind his back and informing him of his plan, which mirrors how Walter confesses to Keyes. This results in Aventurine being sentenced to death, much like how Phyllis dies by Walter’s hand, Aventurine seems like he will die by Ratio’s, calling him a wretch before slinking off.

And there you go, their partnership is as doomed as the one in the movie, failing because their trust + love didn’t hold up till the end, a devious foreshadowing.

At least, that’s how it seems on the first playthrough.

Because Aventurine and Ratio’s plan SUCCEEDS.

And on the second viewing, knowing that the betrayal is fake, you realize they succeed because they do the one thing the people in DI (and I’ll get to Spellbound) DONT do- they actually TRUST each other.

Ratio and Aventurine’s plot is a success. And it’s because they deliberately made it seem like they were doing a Double Indemnity plot. Like they were going to make the same mistakes as the characters in the movie. Sunday falls for the false appearance hook, line and sinker, and that’s his downfall.

They win because they TRUST each other, you can even say because they actually LOVE each other, unlike the characters in the movie, where it’s more list than anything else. Walter and Phyllis don’t make it together to the end but Ratio and Aventurine DO, and they get to continue on with their lives because of it. The reference to Double Indemnity in this quest is genius because it works both before and after you learn the retroactive twist of Penacony. It makes you believe Aventurine + Ratio are doomed to fail, and it makes you realize they were always going to succeed, expertly dawning the false appearances Sunday expects from them, becoming literal actors playing out the roles of two people who will fall short due to their selfishness. Sunday believes he’s seen this film before which is why he BUYS IT, and god it’s just beautiful looking back on it. He thinks he’s Keyes about to uncover a dastardly plot to profit off his sisters death, and in turn he paints Ratio and Aventurine with the identities of those he believes would do such a thing, which they do their best to play into. Ugh it’s amazing.

And now, for Spellbound.

You receive this track after completing Double Indemnity, containing the description above.

Now, this is a reference to Spellbound, another one of Hitchcock’s films.

The main characters in this one are Dr. Anthony Edwards, a man suffering from amnesia, and Dr. Constance Peterson, a psychoanalyst who he was meant to replace, who discovers a dark secret about Edward’s while they fall for one another; he’s an imposter. He believes he killed the real Dr. Edward’s, but she thinks he’s just suffering from a guilt complex. Fake Edward’s goes missing, and the real Edward’s assistant arrived and informs them that he’s missing. She finds Fake Edward again, living under the pseudonym John Brown, and although he tries to leave, she convinces him to stay, telling him that with the help of her mentor, psychoanalysis can help recover his lost memories.

Through an incredibly complicated psychoanalysis of dream, Constance begins to uncover the truth- learning the person who believes himself to be Dr. Edward’s (and is using the pseudonym John Brown) is actually a man named John Ballantyne. Ballantyne accidentally caused the death of his younger brother in the past, resulting in his deep guilt, as well as recalling the location where the real Edwards died- skiing off a cliff to his death. With his memories, they find the body, but it has a bullet wound, so Ballantyne is taken into custody.

However, her boss, Dr. Murchison lets it slip that he actually used to know (and didn’t like) Dr. Edwards, and through another complicated sequence gets him to confess his guilt and ultimately kill himself, which frees Ballantyne, ending the movie with the two going on a honeymoon.

So, what does this mean in the context of the quest line?

Well, let’s say Ballantyne and Constance are representative of Ratio and Aventurine respectively.

“Every psychoanalyst must first have someone else diagnose them.”

If we read Aventurine as the psychoanalyst (Constance) and Ratio as the diagnoser/doctor (Ballantyne), it reveals an interesting interpretation.

That being that they knew the truth from the start/ they had already succeeded.

Or in other words, unlike in Double Indemnity, in Spellbound, they actually succeed.

In the film, Constance is the one doing the diagnosing, the one trying to figure out the truth, and you can see that in Aventurine pretending he’s trying to find out the truth behind Robin’s death. However, in the DI quest, it’s the opposite. Ratio’s as Ballantyne is the one doing the diagnosing for the psychoanalysist, Constance, or rather, Aventurine.

To diagnose someone, you must be very familiar with them, or at the very least the ailment plaguing them, and Ratio he knows Aventurine through and through at the start, and what plagues him (his own sense of meaninglessness) unlike the protagonists in Spellbound who despite falling for one another quickly, don’t begin being intimately familiar with one another.

In this way, they have already succeeded. Aventurine and Ratio already know one another, and while they might not know the reason behind Robin’s death, that was never what they were searching for in the beginning, meaning they effectively can skip through all the drama (aka the ups and downs of Spellbound, finding out the truth behind Robin’s/Edwards’ death), and reach their happy ending- a honeymoon; or in DI’s case, Aventurine attaining his cornerstone, and fulfilling his end of the plan.

Interestingly, Aventurine slots into the role of Ballantyne and Ratio as Constance equally well, with the phone call Constance makes to save Ballantyne being reminiscent of the note Ratio makes to save Aventurine, as well as Aventurine being the replacement, or in the sense, the one to find the truth about Robin.

Personally, I think Aventurine and Ratio are reminiscent of both the main leads in Spellbound, which is why it’s complicated to discern the meaning of the reference. Oh how I wish I knew what the original Chinese description for this was (if you do please tell me 🙏).

Is it just meant to signify them being in love? Is it meant to signify that they will succeed, due to how well they know each other? Is it both, which is what the inclusion of Double Indemnity (the movie) suggests?

Either way, it adds onto the already present idea that the trust between Aventurine and Ratio is what allowed them to succeed in Penacony, and that’s not just something expressed by these movie references.

Think Aventurines Eidolons: Stag Hunt Game and Prisoner’s Dilemma, both of which are game theories about trust. Or how Aventurine says that Ratio knows him best, or how Ratio entrusts Aventurine with close secrets of his, like him being the “Genius” of the council of Mundanites.

“Do you trust me?” “That depends on you.”

These are 2 lines in their 2.0 conversation that really stick out to me. Ratio will always offer his trust so long as Aventurine can prove himself worthy of it, and as we have seen, Aventurine always delivers, proving himself long before Penacony in the Final Victor lightcone, albeit in his weird homoerotic way.

Therefore Ratio will always trust him.

And because of that, they win.

Now whether you take the deep trust between them to be romantic or platonic, or infer the literal honeymoon at the end of Spellbound to mean something for Aventio, either way the feeling absolutely there, and it’s crucial for an understanding of their relationship.

Also damn, the retroactive plot twist fucking slaps.

[psychoticallykind]

Jegumas Day Twenty-Five - Christmas Morning/Day

1,014 words

@noblehouseofgay

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

“Good morning, love.”

A warm hand rubbed circles into Regulus’s shoulder, gently bringing him to full consciousness.

Regulus blinked his eyes open to see James holding a tray and a cup of hot chocolate. “Jamie.”

“Yes, love.” James waited until he sat up to set the tray down. He kissed the top of Regulus’s head. “Blueberry pancakes, bacon, and a small omelette with all of your usual requests.”

The food looked amazing. Regulus tipped his head up to get a kiss, humming happily. “Thank you.”

“You’re always welcome,” James replied, smiling brightly. He moved around the bed and carefully got on, moving to wrap an arm around his fiance. “How are you feeling?”

Regulus leaned against him. “Good.” He put a bite of pancake in his mouth, moaning in appreciation. “Oh, I love you.”

James laughed. “I love you, too.” He kissed his cheek. “Merry Christmas.”

Regulus sighed, feeling a little anxious as he realized what day it was. “Merry Christmas.”

James hummed in sympathy, letting Regulus eat in relative quiet. Regulus appreciated it - he didn’t imagine the rest of the day would be anywhere near as calm as this.

It wasn’t that Regulus didn’t like Christmas. He did - mostly. He loved getting gifts for people and baking cookies with James and cuddling on the couch watching Christmas movies. He loved helping James decorate and listening to Christmas music.

But Christmas day was always a little bit stressful. Everything was crammed into Christmas day - they went to Sirius and Remus, and then Lily and Pandora, and then James’s parents house for dinner. It was a lot of driving and talking and Regulus was always completely exhausted halfway through.

But it was fine. He would smile and be happy and try his best to enjoy the chaos.

“So I did something,” James said quietly. “That you should know about.”

Regulus turned to look at him. “What?”

James looked just slightly anxious, which made Regulus a bit concerned. “Do you remember how Lily called yesterday, and she wanted to move the plans around a bit so that we could go to her house earlier and then Sirius’s later?”

Regulus felt his stomach flip at the idea of switching it up. It would mean more driving, and an earlier start - they’d have to leave really soon, actually. He frowned, hoping for some sort of miracle that didn’t mean he had to function before nine in the morning. “Yes.”

“Well, I sort of told her that it wasn’t possible,” James told him. “So we arranged for everyone to meet at a dinner party in a couple of days instead of our usual schedule.”

Regulus tried to process that. “A dinner party?” He felt a spike of panic. “We’re doing more?”

“No, no,” James assured him quickly. “No, I’m sorry - Reg, I told everyone that we weren’t driving today. Except for mum and dad, I told them that I wasn’t sure, and Mum said to let them know by lunchtime. It seemed like it was stressing you out, so I thought we just - well, I thought it might be better to just relax today.”

“We’re…not driving today,” Regulus repeated slowly. He bit down on his smile, trying to contain the pure relief. “We don’t have to drive everywhere and talk to everyone today?”

James shook his head. “Nope. We can stay home all day if you want, we don’t even have to visit my parents.”

“That’s,” Regulus shook his head, overwhelmed. “That’s - James.”

James smiled, taking in his reaction. “Good?”

“So good,” Regulus confirmed. He grinned, the tension melting from his frame as he dropped his fork and hugged James tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. James, I love you. I love you so much.”

He pulled back, suddenly worried. “Wait, you’re okay with this, right? You’re not sad?”

“I’m thrilled,” James replied sincerely. He kissed Regulus’s forehead. “This is the most excited I’ve ever seen you for Christmas. I love it.”

“I didn’t mean to make you cancel everything,” Regulus said guiltily.

“You didn’t.” James shook his head. “You were lovely about everything. But you looked more and more anxious every time it was brought up, and I don’t want you to feel bad today. You deserve to have fun on Christmas.”

Regulus took a deep breath, almost in tears as he hugged James again. “Thank you.”

“Always,” James replied, squeezing him back. “I’d have done this years ago if I knew it stressed you out so much.”

“I’d have told you years ago if I realized I wouldn’t have to go through it every year.” Regulus blew out a long breath, looking forward to the rest of Christmas for the first time in years. “Maybe we can still go to your parents for dinner.”

James’s eyes lit up. “Yeah?”

Regulus nodded - he loved visiting James’s parents. And without everything else, it actually did sound like fun. Plus, he knew James loved to see them during the holidays. “I think it’ll be fun.”

“I’ll call after breakfast,” James said happily. He kissed Regulus’s cheek. “What do you want to do today? Movies, cookies, music, reading?”

“Can we -” Regulus faltered for a second, but James gave him a little nod, encouraging him. “Can we do all of that? Just - I just want to do the Christmas stuff. Just us.”

“Regulus,” James said softly. He pressed kisses to his shoulder, his neck, his cheek. “I love that idea. We can do everything, of course we can. Do you want to make gingerbread houses? We have the stuff for it - oh, and we can make little gingerbread people to go inside!”

Regulus laughed, nodding in agreement. “That sounds perfect.” He stopped James from kissing his cheek again, turning to get a real kiss.

They were both grinning too much for it to be much of a kiss, but it didn’t matter. They could keep kissing - they could do whatever they wanted today, just them.

Regulus had never truly disliked Christmas.

But until today, he’d never truly loved it.