#i am SO proud of this set for some weird ass reason

[waitineedaname]

Um. do you think about how mr & mrs kageyama are undoubtedly on the Good-er side of the Parents scale but also are probably viewed differently by ritsu and shigeo. like i think about how ritsu probably had to be the easy one (the one that doesn't need you to care about them and comfort them) since shigeo has probably come home beaten up and bloodied enough times for the both of them?? also i feel like they might've said something like "well shigeo you don't HAVE to do [thing that will make any parent happy/proud] right ritsu :)" at some point. like idkkk i feel like that is definitely part of why ritsu feels so pressured to be twice as good at whatever he does (to make up for whatever mob lacks) but also if anyone said that to me i'd kill myself on the spot because it puts Zero trust in mob's abilities? like i feel it doesn't give him a chance to try because well ritsu will do it anyways why do i need to :/ (but then body improvement club happened. W)

anyways i just thing his parents (unintentionally) put sooo much pressure on ritsu. like the bar for being Good is drastically different for ritsu and shigeo*. and pre-claw ritsu thought that half of this pressure would probably disappear if mob did what he was ""supposed"" to do as the Older Sibling which might be one of the many many reasons ritsu thought he hated him?

*marathon arc is the first instance that comes to mind cuz...idk..before it happens they're like Hm. we should go wait in the middway of the path for shigeo (who waited for ritsu at the finish line?🤨). and after it they're like hehe ritsu got 9th place and shigeo did his best :) (this just sounds. damn. the bar's that low/high?). and both of these are normal! considering how shigeo and ritsu are! but i also feel like they're only normal because that's what you'd expect from shigeo and ritsu respectively which kind of. fucked up my worldview.

okayyy this got long. Sowwy. 😆

the kageyama parents make me NUTS when I think about them too hard bc they're probably the best parents in the series and definitely the most normal, but with being normal comes very normal flaws and parenting fuck ups, like comparing their sons. like comparing kids against each other is a very normal and common thing for parents to do, but it fucking sucks, and it's only made worse with the specific baggage the brother have

they absolutely put so much pressure on ritsu, which is one of the components of him snapping in the cleanup arc. he's like,, the ideal that they compare shigeo too, like they're always like "shigeo, why don't you get better grades, like ritsu. shigeo, why don't you stop doing weird things, like ritsu." I feel like the best example of this is these two pages from the cleanup arc (chapter 23, if you're curious)

literally every day I think about "ritsu is way smarter than I am. he doesn't do anything weird" [panel of ritsu looking so fucking haunted]

I'm going to put the rest of this under a read more because I had a Lot To Say

anyway, this sets up the expectations for the two of them. shigeo is the one who struggles at school, who messes up, whose psychic powers do weird things. ritsu is the star student, the perfect son, the Normal One. neither of these expectations are fair to them at all, especially since shigeo works really fucking hard when he sets his mind to something, and ritsu has to wear the mask of normalcy and perfection even if it doesn't feel right. it puts too much pressure on ritsu and sets mob up with the expectations of failure! goddammit!!

I don't necessarily blame the kageyama parents, I mean like I said, this is a very normal thing for parents to do, especially with kids so close in age. I've been compared to my stepsister, I've seen this happen to friends who are close in age to their siblings. it sucks ass, but it's a very normal flaw for a family to have. but also, even though the series really emphasizes that psychic powers are just a normal thing, I don't think the kageyama parents were equipped to deal with the specific issues their kids have bc of psychic powers. I can't help but wonder how much they know about that part of their sons' lives... the more I think about it, the more I think that ritsu definitely didn't tell them the truth about the first ???% incident, he definitely lied to protect his brother because I feel like they would treat shigeo differently if they knew he almost killed his brother and several teenagers at age ten. and it's unclear how much, if anything, they know about the major arcs of the show. do they know ritsu was kidnapped? do they know shigeo was trapped in a mental hellscape for six months? I'm pretty sure ritsu actively hid the events of the world domination arc from them. we see their mom watching the news report in the confession arc -- did she see her son on the screen?

idk, I just get the impression that the brothers don't really let their parents into that part of their lives, which means they still get treated normally but also means their parents don't really understand them. I think that's part of why reigen was so important to mob's development as a kid, because he gave him a person he could go to about things he couldn't talk about with his parents. it also means ritsu was especially isolated because he didn't have that kind of person, at least not until he and shou became friends

also what you said about ritsu being the "easy one", that fits directly into the way I think about both of the kageyama brothers being autistic. I think mob was much more visibly autistic, probably needed more support, and because ritsu didn't need the same support, everyone assumed ritsu must be allistic. I think he knew he was the "easy one" between the two of them and I think that got wrapped up in him masking a LOT to make things easier on his parents so they could focus on shigeo. this kid is so damn undiagnosed that I don't think he even realizes he might also be autistic until his teenage years at least

something something psychic powers as a metaphor for autism something something ritsu desperately trying to seem normal because he doesn't have powers, but also desperately wanting to get powers and stop having to act normal. this kid is so fucking sick of masking.

#PUNCHES A WALL. KAGEYAMA BROTHER BRAINROT. #asks #anonymous #should I tag this. I feel like seven hundred words of deranged analysis deserves to get tagged #mp100 #ritsu kageyama #shigeo kageyama #the other day I saw someone liking every post I've tagged with ritsu. I hope that person knows I love them #ANYWAY. AUUUGUUGHHGHHG I THINK ABOUT THEM TOO HARD AND I WANT TO EAT GLASS

[mightbewriting]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

oh goodness, hi anon! self-rec is not my forte; i feel deeply self-conscious when doing so. but for you, i shall persevere! i have a soft spot for pretty much everything i've written (and a visceral sense of cringe in equal measure), but at the moment these are the ones i think of most fondly (in no particular order).

she thinks: this one is probably a surprise to a lot of people. i know, i know, romione isn't what 99% of you follow me for etc etc etc. but this soft, horny, romantic little cottagecore fic has my whole heart and i make no apologies for it. i'm also incredibly proud of the number of folks who have told me they don't normally like ron in a romantic lead but love him here. this fic is my personal testimony to the idea that with the right story, any ship can be enjoyable.

season pass (to this ass): i've gone on a bit of a journey with this one, tbh. i wrote it totally on a whim, with very little effort or planning, and it blew up in a way second only to wait and hope. that felt weird? something i put very little effort into was liked so much more than things i put *way more* effort into. BUT i've gotten over that weird, self-confidence shakiness and am back to loving it for all the reasons i loved it when i wrote it. himbo draco is a blast. widely accepted fanon characterizations aren't the be all end all. and everybody loves an enthusiastic partner in bed.

well said, hermione: FIRST PERSON IS FUN, OKAY? inhabiting horny draco headspace for this silly, ridiculous little fic was so much fun. and to this day, i think it's some of the best smut i've ever written. plus there are shakespeare references. and a sexually liberated hermione. and golden snidgets. from brainstorming to posting, i had a blast with this fic even if folks widely refuse to read it because of the pov lol.

a season for setting fires: i get it. i scared people with darkfic after apparently convincing them i'm all soft and fluffy romance only. this is my ~divisive~ story. do i still get a spike of anxiety when i see comments in my inbox for this fic? yes, i sure do. but when i separate my experience with it's reception from the fic itself, i still love this one. i tried new things while writing it, including letting myself do whatever i wanted. i'm proud of the story it tells, done apologizing for it, and thrilled by everyone who got what i was trying to do and enjoyed it as well!

wait and hope: if nothing else, a girl's got to be grateful for the community it brought her, let's be real.

#shoutout to mystery sixth fic that would have been included here if it had been posted under mbw #anonymous asks

[termagax]

👀 :DD

went looking to see if i could find his toast victory pose and google brought me my own post about a different victory pose so thats cool. anyways lets talk victory poses

the toast one in question. he is so fucking cute i love his tiny cup and how dainty he holds it and this one looks REALLY good with his two skin. its literally fat neck fsunday thats the theme of the day i want to bite him and lick him and kiss him and

my sc which i am not bothering to crop but i think these ones are so cutes. i switched to the 2 skin because i like his big eyes but its not the one i usually play with SAD. i like how cutes he is in the mine one his big eyes and the way he holds them is something im really normal about im really rlly normal about the ways in which he is kind of possessive. the medal one is cute because i like his big hand and dramatic ass pose hes so fucking proud of himself. fun fact for some reason his ass is rlly prominent in the 2 skin

the combination of the tanline + the way the lighting in the hero gallery work its just like. buddy. dude. mi amor. also points in the first oje of this set you can see his beautiful crotch belt i am so fascinated by his clothing decisions i genuinely need to fuck him so bad its not even funny.

this one isnt mine i stole it off reddit but i like his hologram one because it confused people at launch and i agree its kind of a weird thing for him of all people but i love it. ipad baby.

okay last thing and then ill shut up forever but his MUGSHOT. cutesness. i prefer the illustrated version because uegh euhmmmmmmm neck. hi. but like in general i think this ones so cute im obsessed w the bigness of his hands.

my favourite one is pointing to the sky obviously and ive spoken about it at length before so. uh.

no comment yr honor

#his neck. his arms. his ass. his belts. his stomach. ect. #🫁 #also my screenshots are so high contrast sorry. i need it i have a hard time seeing in this game already

[stylesparker]

Mutual Friends

PAIRING: Frank Castle x Reader

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

A/N: finally finished this fic that I started probably two months ago, ya proud of me? enjoy the handsome man that is frank castle, and let me know how you like it! reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

Frank doesn’t make friends.

Karen wants him to, which is the only reason why he agreed to it in the first place. She cares, he knows that. But making a friend won’t fix him the way she thinks it will.

But he also knows if he didn’t he wouldn’t have met her.

Without Karen he probably wouldn’t have, but he wonders if he would have just found her anyway, eventually.

Supposedly, she needed somebody too, a friend so to speak. So setting them up would to be to help each other out. In a way, he guesses. He thought it was stupid at first, really, seemed silly. Though once he met her it didn’t seem all that stupid anymore.

***

Walking into the small cafe he was supposed to meet her at, he could already sense something was… off. Looking around first glance, it didn’t seem like much.

There were probably a total of ten people in the place; two waitresses, a cook behind the counter, a couple sitting in the booth near the window, a group of three on the island, and a girl by the phone, leaning up against a wall. A guy stands close next to her. One look and he can already tell he’s standing uncomfortably close.

Roaming his eyes over her, he thinks this is the girl Karen told him to meet. The description matches, so it has to be.

The guy’s hand juts out, grabbing her arm. It obviously was tight enough to make her wince since she attempted to pull away. Her eyes frantically jump around the room, finally landing on him who’s already stalking his way over. Even if she’s not her, he still wants to punch the guy for grabbing this poor girl and scaring her. It takes everything in him to not push his chest and pound him into the ground, make him hurt like he made her hurt.

But all he does is walk up calmly, sharing a look with her and he knows she’s taking a breath of relief when she takes a shaky breath.

“Hey, you alright?” He asks, looking at her comfortingly. She nods her head, giving him a slight sad smile.

“I’m alright.”

“Get out of here, man. This isn’t your business.” The guy lets go of her arm, so she rips it back, rubbing over the part he held. He takes a step so he’s chest to chest with Frank. He almost laughs. The guy has no idea who he is.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“Get lost, ass-”

Before he can even blink, Frank’s hand jets out, grabbing his hand and breaking it back at a extremely painful angle. The guy whimpers, breathing hard and staring into his eyes.

“You want to finish that?” He shakes his head so hard, Frank thinks he’s gonna give himself whiplash. “Go.”

As soon as he lets go, he bolts out the door, and they watch him as he sprints down the street, far out of sight. As she laughs, he turns to her, remembering she’s still there.

“Thanks,” she smiles, “I didn’t think I’d have to deal with so much shit today, but here I am.”

“Yeah, what other shit you dealing with?” He grins.

“Been forced to make a friend today, by a certain blonde,” she squints, but her grin makes him smirk and he can’t help this feeling rising up in his chest.

“Wow, that’s weird, cause so have I,” he looks out the window, looking away from her before he looks back and she’s staring at the floor. “You wanna sit?”

“Sure.”

He sits down with her in the booth a couple feet away, sitting on the opposite side she’s on. It seems like their initial greeting wore off and the two of them go silent. The kind waitress comes by and pours them some coffee, they both give a quiet thank you and she walks off. It’s silent for awhile, until he decides this has got to go somewhere.

“Look. I don’t need some therapist friend.”

“Neither do I.”

“To be honest, I didn’t really want to come here.”

“Neither did I.”

They’re both quiet, but then all of a sudden Frank laughs, and it surprises him. She definitely doesn’t take bullshit that’s for sure. 

She smiles, “Y/N.”

“Hm?” He hums, his eyes looking over the mug of coffee. 

“My name. It’s Y/N,” you say. 

“Frank,” he nods. 

“I already knew that.”

“Just being polite!” He teases, which makes you laugh. The face you make when you smile or laugh is so... adorable, but he almost wants to punch himself in the face for thinking that way. He takes another sip before he clears his throat and asks, “So who was that guy?”

You shake your head, taking a sip of your own, “Eh, shitty ex-boyfriend’s brother who’s also really shitty.”

“Yeah? Where’s your ex?”

“Dead.” His eyebrows raise. “Hey, I doubt you have the picture perfect life either if Karen sent you here to me!”

“I’m not judging,” he shakes his head, “just curious.” You huff, letting your fingers fiddle with each other on top of the table as you contemplate actually telling him the truth. 

“Well you can’t tell anybody,” you eye him.

“Who am I gonna tell, sweetheart? You think I got any friends?”

“Ha!” You chuckle, “Nope.” He rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile adorning his features. Your face falls, just a bit, as you get ready to tell him your story.

“You don’t have to.” Frank says.

“It’s fine, I don’t talk much about it anyway, and it’s not like you’re gonna tell anyone,” you replied. “I was with him for a couple a’ years before I found out he was a part of this gang that had inhabited Chicago for a long time. He’d been stuck in it for forever, before he met me even, but he’d never figured out how to get out. After he ‘fell in love with me’ and realized that by marrying me, some of his shit could get thrown on to me, he proposed. I figured it out obviously, but it took me two years to get away from him. He...” you took a deep breath. “He’d never been abusive until I started trying to run away. I guess the short version of this would end with that I finally got away and had to kill him to do it, and his brother found out of course. The long version would take a bit longer, probably including the part where I met Karen through all this. Want me to continue?”

He nods his head, tilting his head and throwing his arm up in the air, waving the waitress back over.

“I think we’re gonna need some beer.”

***

“I-I can’t even imagine that,” you muttered. Both of you were to the point of tipsy, just on the verge of drunk, and Frank just got done telling his own story. Your eyes locked with his and you gave him a comforting smile, grabbing his hand and squeezing it couple times. “I don’t think sorry is exactly what you want to hear so I won’t say it, but I do feel for you.” You can’t really read the look on his face, but you hope he appreciated it.

Frank couldn’t believe how easy it was talking to you. He hadn’t had such a nice conversation like this since his wife, and that’s… hard to think about. Even though the topics had been pretty heavy, not exactly what you would call nice, it felt nice talking to you. You tease at the right moments, you give a comforting smile at the right moments, and hey, you don’t make him feel like such a bad guy for doing the things he’s done. It’s clear your life hasn’t had as much death in it, but you do know the feeling of pain and grief and guilt.

Hell, you’ve killed before. All for your protection but still, you still live with the guilt, even if the people you’ve killed deserved it. That’s how he knows your better than him, but he can tell that you don’t think of him any different.

Frank sighs, looking at the dark sky outside and stands up from his seat, “it’s really late, can I walk you home?”

“Such a gentleman, but I’m okay.” You stand up out of your seat but sway just a bit, making your hand shoot out against the table to balance yourself.

“Yeah.. I don’t think so, you’re nearly drunk.”

“So are you,” you retort, lifting an eyebrow.

“Touché,” he squints, but still takes one of your arms and pulls you out of the seat, holding onto you as you both make your way down the aisle towards the door. The bell clings as you exit, and as Frank leads you he keeps an arm on you so you don’t fall over.

Nearly half an hour later you finally get to your door, having had almost pushed each other down the flight of stairs laughing since you had to take the elevator. You’d forgotten it hasn’t been working. You’re giggling as you half attempt to open the door and stall a little longer, not wanting to escape his presence just yet. His body is leaning against the wall, watching you with a grin on his face and looking around to scan the area. Finally as your key turns and the door clicks open, you sigh, opening it a bit before you turn around towards him.

“This is it,” you say.

“This is it,” he replies. You’re both quiet until you both start to say something at the same time and interrupt each other, insisting the other speaks first.

“Would you like to come in?” you falter. You glance at him, and suddenly you feel shy under his gaze.

He nods his head, “I would.” 

Not a minute later does he have your back pressed hard against the door just as you both slam it shut, his lips already attacking the side of your neck and keeping a hand rested just above your collarbone. It’s not until you feel his hands snake down and grip onto your waist that you realize he’s sucking a hickey into your neck and you can’t help the groan that escapes you as he tightens his hold. When he’s done, he licks over it, kissing it and soothing the tiny bit of pain, but soon it’s gone just as quick as it was there as his lips smash into yours. You finally gain control of your hands and they come up by the side of his face to grip him by the back of the neck and pull him impossibly closer towards you. Just as one of his hands grabs your breast, he pulls away from you, sighing and resting his head on your shoulder. 

“We shouldn’t.”

Shit. You look up at the ceiling, hoping you don’t start crying from frustration. 

“Trust me doll, not that I don’t want to because I definitely do-” he chuckles, his forehead leaning against yours, “We’re too shitfaced. I’d rather us not be drunk when this happens.” 

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” you whisper, nodding at his words. You know he’s right, but you don’t exactly like it. He squeezes your boob with a sly smirk on his face and you gasp, hitting him on the arm. 

“Excuse me!” He laughs, letting his head fall into the crook of your shoulder again and kiss there a couple of times. 

“Sorry, couldn’t help m’self.” You roll your eyes, but you rub your hands up and down his arms, calming both him and yourself down. After you stay there a moment, leaning into each other and letting your arms wrap around one another, you realize that you’re hugging him and it feels so nice to have such a gentle intimacy with someone, even if you’ve just met.

For him, it feels like he’s above the clouds and he might just throw himself out a window because he’s hugging you right now and it’s one of the best feelings he’s felt in a long time. He’s almost happy he has this rather than sex because yeah, sex is great, but he’s still going by baby steps. This, this is exactly what he needed and he has to stop himself from thanking you, since that would be kind of awkward.

“Damn,” you say softly. 

“What?” he asks in a gentle voice.

“I owe Karen twenty bucks. I told her I’d leave within the first 5 minutes of meeting you.” His laughter erupts from his chest and he has to step back from you and look you in the eye, and the cheeky expression on your face makes it so much better. 

“Twenty dollars well spent.”

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle smut #frank castle marvel

[pretentiouswreckingball]

20 questions for fic writers!

thank you for the tag lovely kay @xjustakay <3

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

Six so far!

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

57,991 —which might not seem much but still, very proud of it, specially because a year ago, I wouldn’t have dreamed writing that many words.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

So far only marauders, but I have some drarry/golden trio era in the making, as well as some PJO and GO so, we’ll see!

4. What are you top 5 fics by kudos?

Since I don’t have that many I’ll only put my top three:

Archenemies (or so he thought) -> Sirius hunts down his bestie James for ditching him on a prank and finds him cuddling with the enemy (a black cat) who turns out to be more of a pain in the ass than he expected, especially because for some reason, the little shit acts a lot like his brother.

Don’t threaten me with a good time -> Ah, Black cats, mischievous little things, aren’t they? Known for being a pain in the ass for older brothers, a good companion for best friends and devil incarnated for lovers and love ones alike.

When it rains -> It all comes down to a certain bus stop on a rainy week. Between interesting chats, pastries and being almost ran over by a purple car, there’s something about the person they share the bus stop with that seems familiar. (Basically a bunch of meet-cutes and pinning idiots being, well, idiots)

5. Do you respond comments? Why or why not?

I do, yes! I love responding to comments but sometimes I tell myself I’m going to answer later in the day and I forget :( but I do love comments, they make my day every time. 💘

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hands down it will be slow dancing in the dark, the whole fic is quite angsty, at least for me, but I wouldn’t say it has a angsty ending, maybe a little— nvm I just re-read it. Yeah, it’s sad.

7. What is a fic your wrote with the happiest ending?

My babygirl some sunny day, that fic is my go-to when I remember this fandom is based in death, angst and misery hahaha. Some sunny day is like a, well, a ray of sunshine lmao. It has my favorite setting, my fave pairs and some Spanish here and there. Love it dearly.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully no, maybe some weird ones but nothing that I would count as hateful. Really grateful for that, dunno what I would do if I were to receive those on a daily basis, never post again most likely lmao.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Haven’t post smut yet but I wrote some, still in the doc and everything but is there, waiting to be posted 😈

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest you’ve written?

Not really my thing, no. but maybe! who knows

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of, haven’t looked Wattpad yet tho.

12. Have you ever has a fic translated?

No, but if anyone would want to, it would be lovely!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

It’s in the making, actually! @sequinhaze and I are doing a drarry fic, so there’s that 😌

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

All-time favorite is a not easy to answer, i mean currently it’s drarry and jeggy but my first was Percabeth and Solangelo, I was a sucker for them and still am. So maybe them.

15. What’s a wip you what to finish but doubt you ever will?

The empire of the sun trilogy jsjsjs maybe I’ll finish the first one but the other two seem pretty far away for me right now, but one never knows so.

Also copying Kay’s answer here because my google docs also looks like a graveyard of unfinished works lmao.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I believe I give a solid characterization and maybe storytelling (?? Inner monologue maybe? love to see the chaos i created in my little puppets.

17. What are you writing weaknesses?

Run on sentences, I’ve been told I tend to do that a lot hehe and comas —also it costs me greatly to just write, if I’m not in the mood it’s hard for me to just go for it.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

1000% I’m favor. Some of my fics have French/Spanish in them, I like the idea of leaving non-spanish speakers to go to the end notes or to google translate or straight-up wonder what the hell I’m talking about jsjsj

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Some 1D and JB back in the day, so you bet your asses y/n and I were besties

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

About time, scars and the brightest stars is my absolute favorite. That fic is the love of my life, it has everything I love and more and rn I can put the link bc I took it down so I can finish it all and post it in one go but yeah, that one.

no pressure tags: @sequinhaze @a-fiery-fox @residentrookie @magswrite @fruityindividual @nevvaraven @inevitablestars @arakhnee

#this took me more time than I was expecting but I enjoyed it a lot #loops plays a game #tag games

[pesterloglog]

John Egbert, Vriska Serket

Page 491-496

JOHN: vriska!!!

VRISKA: Well well well, looks like 8ingo let out early!

JOHN: oh man, i found you just in time! i need you to come back with me, and–

JOHN: wait, how are you already free?

JOHN: and why are you covered in leafs

VRISKA: Leaves.

JOHN: weren't you supposed to be in the "clutches" of jane, or something?

VRISKA: John... do you really think I would need YOU to 8ust me out of some rinky dink operation like that?

VRISKA: Escaping some cushy human prison is gru8's play to me. They didn't even try to torture us!

VRISKA: Even my protégé managed to free herself of this sad excuse for a facility.

JOHN: oh.

JOHN: wait, rose's kid was here with you?

VRISKA: That's what I said! Try and keep up, cryptkeeper.

JOHN: ok, well, if you would stop shaking your head and look at me you'd know i am rolling my eyes so hard right now.

JOHN: anyway!!

JOHN: where do i begin! uhh... ok, so roxy has this secret lair that's for some reason hidden underneath our old bed, the world is gonna fall apart... umm what else... oh! there's this thingy called "the Plot Point"--

VRISKA: Yeah, I know.

JOHN: you know?

VRISKA: Yes!!!!!!!! I Know!!!!!!!!

JOHN: oh.

JOHN: what else do you already know? :o

VRISKA: John! Focus! I can't have you holding me 8ack just 8ecause you're slow and old now!

JOHN: aw ):

VRISKA: Ease up, Eg8ert.

JOHN: ok, ok, fine.

JOHN: ...

JOHN: wait, hold on. back up. vrissy is gone??

VRISKA: You are really getting caught up in the minutiae aren't you?

JOHN: please don't tell me you guys were trying to escape through a tunnel crossing a water pipe and she sacrificed herself by sealing the pipe closed from the outside, giving you the chance to escape?

VRISKA: What the hell are you talking a8out????????

VRISKA: No, you know what, don't answer that.

JOHN: its from a show!

VRISKA: John, she's a Vriska. She can handle herself! I'm sure she can take anything this fake-ass timeline can throw at her!

JOHN: what?

JOHN: fake? what do you mean?

VRISKA: This universe! Haha! It's a fake! Fakey fake fake.

JOHN: you can say fake as many times as you want, i still won't know what you mean!

VRISKA: Pleeeeeeeease don't tell me none of you have noticed!

VRISKA: This whole universe is like someone's shitty RP, and everyone's out of character! None of this reads!

VRISKA: Like, who the FUCK is Yiffy!!!!!!!! Why should I or anyone CARE????????

JOHN: i mean

JOHN: i don't really get it either, but i had this long talk with roxy, and that feels relevant to this?

VRISKA: Yuck, don't even want to think a8out that whole mess.

VRISKA: What were you two even thinking with that, 8y the way? What was setting sail on that dingy schooner of a relationship ever going to accomplish?

JOHN: don't call my marriage a dingy schooner! it was a completely reasonably sized ship!

JOHN: we had our reasons!

JOHN: i am pretty sure!

VRISKA: Yeah, you sound super sure a8out all of this.

VRISKA: Making up pro8lems to have pro8lems!

VRISKA: So lame.

JOHN: it does sound... kind of bad.

JOHN: but that doesn't mean it's fake!

VRISKA: Come oooooooon!

VRISKA: Do you honestly think I spent all that time commanding a kickass ghost army to not know a haplessly doomed little world when I see one?

VRISKA: I can practically smell it on you!

JOHN: hey, not this again!

JOHN: i smell completely normal!

JOHN: my odor is well within "real john" standards thank you very much.

VRISKA: This is exactly what I'm talking a8out. No8ody real would say that.

VRISKA: You're like a sadder, less interesting version of a guy I kind of liked talking to. When was the last time you did........ anything?

JOHN: i get around. i've been talking to people. i just talked to a new guy on the way.

VRISKA: Snore!

VRISKA: What happened to the guy that punched me in the face?

JOHN: that guy is right here, he's still me!

JOHN: ok, wait, that makes me sound way too proud of myself.

VRISKA: It was like the 8est thing you've ever done!

JOHN: it was not! you're just weird!!!

JOHN: anyway what i am saying is, this is just how it's been for a while?

VRISKA: Surely you can see that's a pro8lem? 8e serious.

JOHN: i am serious! and don't call me shirley.

VRISKA: Ugh.

JOHN: (hehe.)

JOHN: it is true though, everything did feel pretty... pointless for a long time. and it would bother me SO MUCH!

JOHN: when i was living by myself i would consider where to go next. except there was no "next." nothing was worth trying for anymore.

JOHN: but harry is. he's real!

VRISKA: ::::/

VRISKA: As real as a guy can get, stuck here.

JOHN: what, like he could be magically more real???

JOHN: load him up in some silly circus cannon and blast him out of the mirror verse!

JOHN: hahahahaha

JOHN: actually you might think this is kind of funny!

JOHN: a long time ago i was supposed to go back and defea-

VRISKA: SNOOOOOOOORE!

VRISKA: Your ecto-human-guardian-si8ling or whatever is pro8a8ly sending a squad of 8ozos to apprehend your ex as we speak. So I say the less we talk and the sooner we 8low this gru8sickle stand, the sooner we can get there 8efore we lose access to our shortcut.

JOHN: yeah when you spell it all out like that i can see what y-

JOHN: wait, WHAT!!!

JOHN: why didn't you just say that earlier?!

VRISKA: John. That's what I've 8een doing this whole time!

VRISKA: Now, c'mon! Race you there!!!!!!!!

JOHN: hey, that's not fair!

VRISKA: Last one there is a rotten egggggggg(8ert)! >::::)

#homestuck #homestuck^2 #john egbert #vriska serket #homestuck^2 act 1 #page 491 #page 492 #page 493 #page 494 #page 495 #page 496

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Whiskey - a Malevolent fic

Some talk.

Some dancing.

The beginning of a conversation they deeply need to have before things can go any farther.

Fortunately, Parker is good at having this kind of talk.

Part of the Surrogate Series. Written with @sepiabandensis.

AO3

------

The cooks liked them.

Parker was, to be fair, really good with people. He’d had to be; the world Parker came from ranked him as a second-class citizen for reasons Sunny found absolutely untenable (could they not see how lovely he was? How honed and elegant?), and had long ago developed a good sense of who had to be bullied and who had to be charmed.

Sunny liked this skill a lot. He also really liked people who liked Parker (with the crucial exception of who-would-not-be-named). The cooks, he decided, would be rewarded well for their kindness when he finally merged with the King in Yellow.

They’d been so fearful at first when he and Parker walked in. Parker had just wanted to know the name of the weird little dried fruits in that nutmeg pastry, and for one terrible moment, everyone freaked out.

Oh, but Parker! Parker. His words were soft but firm; he held his hands up, palms out, to show he meant no harm, and wore a gentle smile, and just… de-escalated the whole situation. Wonderful.

Then he got them talking. Then he got them joking. Before long, instead of just getting an answer about fruit (dried moonberries, expensive because they only grew in Leng and ice and snow, so of course the King would have a steady supply), the cooks were loading them down with not one but two platefuls of food they’d never had before.

Steamed fish! Roasted bird! Breads made from wheat Parker adorably could not pronounce, and his wholehearted attempts got the cooks laughing.

They left with more food than they could eat in a meal (though they sure did try) and a set of new admirers.

Yes. Sunny would reward them when it was time. For now, though, they had other things to do.

#

Parker really liked Dis. It didn’t feel like the kind of desire Sunny had seen and felt in him for men, but it was a good feeling, a lots-of-smiles feeling, a walking-away sweaty and bruised and proud feeling.

Dis had been surprised and pleased to know they could already do magic. “Shields, too?” she’d said.

“Sunny can toss a good one,” said Parker.

“Can you?” she’d said.

“Nope,” he’d said.

So she spent the next hour teaching him how.

Delightful. Parker was happy. Parker was safe. There was no sign of he-who-must-not-be-named, and if the Princess and her Dark Young were around, well, what of it? Sunny had no history with them, and they didn’t seem inclined to approach.

They sure did watch, though. Wide-eyed, fascinated; sometimes the Princess pretended she wasn’t watching (which Parker said was real cute), but more often, she just sat down and cheered them on as he and Dis sparred. “Get her!”

Parker did not get her, and landed on his ass again, and a good time was had by all.

It wasn’t bad. It really wasn’t; Sunny had time to figure out how to protect Parker at the end of six years so Parker could wander to his heart’s content. Sunny—as the King—could even go with him in disguise. They could adventure. It would be great.

#

Sunny was content to adventure in the kitchens, in the meantime. The quiche this morning was absolutely fantastic, of course, but I do really enjoy the addition of the scallions in this one, he said. Have you considered caramelizing them as well? I feel that would pair well with the cheese incorporated into the crust.

“Oh!” said the cook. “Oh! Our lord zuggezted zomething zimilar. If you but wait, I can…”

Parker laughed. “Can we do it tomorrow? I really can’t eat another bite.”

“Awww,” said the cooks (so well rewarded).

Parker patted his decidedly flat belly. “Stuffed like a goose. You’re gonna make me round as a pillow.”

Everyone liked that.

Tomorrow, then, if you would be so kind and be willing to accept my humble suggestion, Sunny said smoothly, voice sweet like honey. I am eager to see what you come up with!

“Oh, no, zir, you muzt try thiz before you go,” said the three-headed cook whose name Parker couldn’t quite manage, and offered a tumbler of rich, gold whiskey.

This whiskey was meant for gods. Parker took one sip, and his whole face grew hot. He coughed.

The cooks thought that was so cute, and added another slice of cake to his finally-empty plate.

“No,” Parker coughed. “No, thank you, I really can’t eat any more. Fuck, that was good, though.” His breath was warm.

Promises of such food followed them out as they left, and Parker laughed softly, walking slowly. “How the heck do I say that guy’s name again?”

Feel the way our mouth moves, Sunny said brightly. “Bh-tnnn-kour-noo-aaah. It’s in the back of the throat.”

Parker laughed. “Yeah, maybe when I haven’t had whatever kind of whiskey. Hot damn, Sunny. One sip and… wow. Fuckin’... good.” He rolled his shoulders. His breath was still warm. “You feel that? Damn. Think I must be glowing like a bulb.”

I honestly think I might even feel it, a bit, Sunny purred. It was absolutely phenomenal. I have to admit, I did not have a positive opinion on alcohol before recently. Perhaps it was because you’re much wiser about your consumption.

“Well… I mean, it’s like anything else. You gotta do it right. I’d call this right: you and me, full belly, all good. This is pretty damn—” And he ran right into the King in Yellow, overbalanced, and fell backwards.

Sunny gasped. He hadn’t seen. How had he not? (The whiskey, it was for gods, of course it had affected them both, he was so stupid—)

Hastur caught them with one tentacle. “Well,” he said, voice huge and terrifying and multi-dimensional.

Parker stared at him. “Fuck, you’re big. Stop doing that.”

Sunny gasped. Parker!

Hastur… laughed. It wasn’t a big laugh, but it happened, and he set Parker back on his feet without crushing or throwing or any of the things Sunny feared. “I’m afraid that request is denied.”

Great One, Sunny said, voice nervous. I… kindly let us pass, please. We have done everything you asked of us.

“Indeed, you have.” Hastur tugged Parker’s shirt back down.

Parker shoved at him. “Hands off the merchandise.”

Parker!

“So you've said,” rumbled the King. “It’s all right, Sunny. I find this… amusing.”

That could be taken any number of ways.

Parker just took it in stride. “You’re still too damn big for business.”

The King’s multi-tentacle shrug definitely seemed entertained. “Alas for me. You seem to be mildly inebriated.”

And Parker had to be thinking along the same lines as reward, because he said, “That button corner guy is fucking good. You should give him a raise.”

The mispronunciation startled Sunny into a peal of laughter. Parker joined him.

Hastur did… something. To Sunny, it felt like the gentlest touch—barely there, almost affectionate. “My head chef, I believe you mean?” Hastur said.

Yes, Great One. It came out in a laugh as he began to relax, the allure of the god-liquor and the knowledge Parker was safe and just being there beginning to sink in. We met them a few days ago, when we had some questions about the pastries that came with breakfast. And for tonight, we trained right through dinner, and I thought we would slip in and ask for a plate, but it became an entire production. I apologize for my brashness.

“No apologies required.” Hastur was so different when not in front of people. That touch again; it felt relaxing, safe, and his incorporeal body leaned into it. “You have not argued since you arrived in this place,” said Hastur.

“Argued?” Parker looked confused. “For what?”

Sunny let out a puzzled noise. You made the situation clear, Great One. We have not caused any trouble.

“I hardly mean with others. With one another.” That touch was just a bit firmer. Maybe he was trying to get Sunny to purr.

Whatever it was, it was the closest Sunny ever remembered to feeling whole, and it was glorious. Why the fuck would I fight with Parker?

“Fighting seems to be what your counterparts constantly do.”

Parker snorted. “You mean Arthur’s a bitey little bitch.”

Hastur made a noise that wasn’t quite a laugh this time, but maybe one barely covered up. “Indeed.”

That is… Sunny’s voice wavers, a bit. That seems… strange. I remember Arthur said he and John fought, but… I don’t understand why.

“Do you truly agree on everything?” said the King.

“Pffft,” says Parker. “What kind of a leading question is that? Nobody agrees on everything.”

“Yet you do not fight.” That touch again; Sunny sighed, content as… how did Parker put it? A bug in a rug.

“Why would we?” Parker said. “We’re grownups. Maybe we could teach you how to get along. No more blowing people up.”

That seemed less safe. Parker, Sunny chided mildly.

“No more blowing people up, hm?” said Hastur, still not angry.

“Everybody’s talking about it. Court.” Parker paused. “Huh. Know what? I think I’m drunk.  I don’t really have, uh. What do they call it? The blanket between my thoughts and my mouth. A filter. Right now. But I only had one sip.”

“It is intended for beings such as myself, and is potent.”

“Oh.” Parker considered. “The hangover?”

“Likely nonexistent.”

Parker’s shoulders untensed. “Then I don’t give a fuck.”

Parker and I were able to establish respect quickly, Sunny said, low and defensive. He… He is willing to compromise. To work with me. And as such I have afforded the same to him.

“Curious. Had I time…” The King hesitated. “You have both pleased me so far. Know this.”

“We ain’t done any of it for you, though,” said Parker.

Sunny was quiet for a moment. I appreciate you recognizing our efforts.

“I do.” Strange, though; Sunny knew this body language. The great Lord of Carcosa was… tired. Should gods be tired? “You have been the least troublesome aspect of all of this entire adventure. Have you any requests?”

Aside from Parker’s freedom… yes, we have some questions, Great One, but… but later. For those. But we do have one request.

“We do?” said Parker.

“Go ahead and ask,” said Hastur. That touch again; it felt very good. Steadying. As if the King wanted Sunny to speak, which was an incredible concept.

Sunny wanted to speak. Sunny wanted good things for Parker. Sunny dared to want good things for himself. Would… Would it be possible to… just every once in a while… eat with you, and the others, without Larson present? Not every day. Maybe now and then.

“Oh,” said Parker. “Hadn’t thought of that.”

Partners take care of each other, said Sunny softly.

“Thanks, bud,” said Parker, sounding just a bit wobbly.

The King considered it. “An excellent request. I don’t see why not. He’s certainly taking up enough of my time that he has no right to complain.”

He was? Oh, that wasn’t good. Sunny growled a little.

Parker stroked his jaw. “That asshole isn’t touching you again. You’re all right.”

Hastur did… whatever that unseen contact was, and Sunny relaxed, making a sound like a sigh. Thank you, Great One. Thank you.

And out of nowhere (or maybe reading the room), Parker changed subjects. “We saw your kid out there, training. She’s fuckin’ skilled. You must be real proud.”

The King had no face to smile. His eyes were hidden by his mask; but his body language… Pride. Joy. Focus. “Yes. She is remarkable. I have never known a human as worthy.”

“That’s how it’s supposed to be,” said Parker, slightly unclearly. “You really gonna answer questions later?”

“Eventually, yes. When you are sober.”

Parker nodded solemnly. “That’s good shit.”

You really are drunk, Sunny said, and now he purred, a happy rumble that vibrated down Parker’s spine. But that’s alright—I am too. I think. Thank you, Great One. I… It is my hope that we will be ready to speak more in a day or two, if your schedule allows.

“We have six years. You have time.”

Parker looked thoughtful. “You mean that?”

“Of course.”

Parker peered at him.

Six years, Sunny said quietly. We aim to make the most of it.

“Good. So do I. Rest well, Sunny, Parker Yang, when you do rest.” And off the King went, hovering, his many tentacles curling and undulating as though he moved through unseen sea.

Parker rubbed his eyes. “Always see gold afterimages for a while after talkin’ to him.”

It is his power, said Sunny proudly. He is pleased with you.

“That could’ve gone worse, huh? Weird, though. Something in there… something was a lie.”

Sunny was in such a good place. He didn’t want to deal with lies right now. There was? he said, tiny.

Parker waved his hand. “We’re good. Don’t worry, partner.”

I won’t, Sunny said fondly. You are a charming man, Parker.

Parker laughed. “Fuck. I’d take you dancing tonight if I could. Hey… we could do that! They got radio here?”

Sunny’s good mood was back. Now I know you’re drunk. How do you dance with a partner that lives inside your head?

“Oh, like… uh. Hm. I can’t sing for shit. They really don’t have radio?”

I don’t believe so. It’s possible that Hastur has recordings, somewhere—I suppose we could dig around the library, but live music is preferred here.

“Then I guess you gotta deal with my tone-deaf… me. I’ll show you how we dance.” And he began to move.

His singing wasn’t great; sort of monotone, more a rhythm than a tune, but his feet… the way he held his body, one arm out as if around a partner, one around his own chest… the way moved his hips, the way his whole spine seemed to curve… Sunny could see it all in the ubiquitous mirrors, and it turned out that Parker couldn’t just fight. He could dance.

Sunny laughed. Parker! What are you—look at us! For fuck’s sake, let me have our voice, would you? I’ll give us something to dance to.

Parker gave him an exaggerated, reflected wink, and then gave him his mouth.

Sunny took over, sliding into bass notes, singing from their chest:

“I can't forget the night I met you That's all I'm dreaming of And now you call it madness But I call it love

You made a promise to be faithful By all the stars above And now you call it madness But I call it love”

Parker turned the dance into something slow and graceful and somehow incredibly sweet, eyes lidded, swaying as if up against someone he could only imagine. “I like that. Works for us, don’t it? It’s all crazy in this place, but you and me? We’re okay.”

He looked happy. Sunny memorized it, the gentle curve of Parker’s mouth, and let himself settle into it. It felt appropriate. Oh, Parker. You seem to be having fun, even without a partner. Perhaps in time we’ll find someone we can dance with, as well. You certainly know how to move.

“Yeah, I can cut a rug. Always could. And what are you saying, without a partner? I got a partner. Right here. Making music.”

Careful now, Parker, Sunny purred. You might wind up seducing me. And there isn’t a whole lot you’d be able to do for that.

Parker spun, hips swaying in a way Sunny found lovely to watch. “Maybe not now, but we’re in a magic place. There’ll be something.”

Sunny laughed. I suppose we could scour the archives for a spell of instant orgasm. Magic appears to work on me.

“See? There’ll be some way.”

Sunny paused. That will be an interesting conversation with Hastur.

“Ha!” Parker spun again. “It’d be funny as fuck, though.”

‘Hello, great one, yes, I was wondering, do you know of any way to help an errant piece of you with no physical body orgasm?’ Sunny quipped. ‘Yes, we’ve tried focusing really, really hard on me transferring to Parker’s dick. No, it hasn’t worked. Oh thank you, Your Majesty, the Unspeakable. Thank you for this orgasm.’

Parker laughed. “Right? Easy!” He did a little shuffle and hummed tunelessly again. He hadn’t stumbled yet. “Fuck, that was good whiskey. Heh. Could give some of that to Arthur and get the truth out of him.”

It wouldn’t even need to be a lot. The man can’t hold his liquor worth shit, Sunny said.

Parker laughed again. “Fuckin’ true. How'd you know that?" Their jaw tensed, and Parker decided to move on. Later for whatever that was. This was for them, now. "Wonder how high this place goes. They got, like… places on the roof to go?”

That there are, my friend. How high do you want to go? We’re allowed free reign. I can’t take you to the tallest spire—that belongs to the King—but I can take you pretty fucking high.

“I wanna go lie down under the stars. Not where anybody can walk on us, or anything.”

I can do that. I’ll lead the way.

And he did. They climbed what felt like hundreds of stairs. Parker commented on the artwork and frippery, and Sunny made a few jokes. Finally, they reached an honest-to-goodness ladder leading to a trap door, which Parker was able to push open and climb through.

Oh, boy, they were high.

The air was still cold with the waning chill of spring, and the moons low hung in the sky. The glittering white stars were bright against the night like scattered pearls on a bed of black silk. Gold railings, barely more than ankle height, looped around the small platform on the roof, and Sunny let out a soft gasp.

“Oh, wow,” Parker breathed.

It’s… It’s so beautiful, up here. Excellent idea, my friend.

Parker stared straight up. He looked out, at the distant dark mountains, at the glittering lake taking the light of Carcosa and turning it to dancing gold. After a moment, he had to wipe his eyes.

Oh, Parker, Sunny said gently. Penny for your thoughts?

“I just… I’m grateful? I never would’a got to see any of this.” He gestured, taking in all of the Dreamlands. “Rich people travel, you know? I was lucky I got to move from Boston to Arkham. Got to go to New York City, sometimes. But this is…” He swallowed.. “Larson made some stupid comment about my paygrade, way back in the beginning, remember? He wasn’t wrong. I don’t… I never thought I’d get to do nothing like this. At least my folks got to see another country, but they left it. Never told me shit about it.” He sighed. “And now…” He sat near the edge, taking in the silvery waves of grass, wind-stirred under the two moons. “Now this. I know it’s been rough. And I’m not lookin’ forward to saying goodbye to you when you join that guy again, but… it’s worth it. It’s all been worth it. I guess that’s what I got to say.”

Parker really felt he’d grieve to see Sunny go.

Parker really felt Sunny would be… missed.

Their throat tightened, and their mouth began to speak.

“Like tiny drops of crystal rain,         In every life the moments fall,  To wear away with silent beat,         The shell of selfishness o’er all.

And every act, not one too small,         That leaps from out the heart’s pure glow,  Like ray of gold sends forth a light,         While moments into seasons flow.

Athwart the dome, Eternity,         To Iris grown resplendent, fly  Bright gleams from every noble deed,         Till colors with each other vie.

’Tis glimpses of this grand rainbow,         Where moments with good deeds unite,  That gladden many weary hearts,         Inspiring them to seek more Light.”

“It has been the greatest honor, my friend,” Sunny said softly with Parker’s voice. “We still have almost six years. I’m not going anywhere soon. I promise.”

“I just keep fallin’ for guys with poetry in ‘em,” Parker muttered. “Must be me making up for not being able to sing. I really liked that. And yeah… six years. That’s pretty good.”

Most people would only be content with a lifetime together, Sunny said gently.

“Sure, but… I mean, I grew up, everybody told me I couldn’t love guys because you can only love girls. I dunno. I guess I’m grateful for anything I can get.”

We carry no such compulsions in the Dreamlands, Parker. The way humans view gender and sex as a binary construct is almost laughable. Here… no one whose opinions are of any merit will demand that of you, one way or another.

“That’s gonna take some getting used to,” Parker murmured. “I might not die alone, huh?”

Sunny gasped. Oh, Parker. It is my intent to remain in your life, even after… after I merge back with the King. I will be part of him, and he will carry my affection for you with him always.

“Shit,” said Parker with deep appreciation.

Sunny spoke fluent Parker, and knew that wasn’t the bad kind of swear. We may even mark you. I would want to keep you safe, close, to elevate you as you deserve—and maybe we will get you a little investigator’s office, down in Carcosa. Even a title. I could arrange that, too.

“Mark me?” Parker swallowed, still staring into the distance. “That’s a pretty big offer, isn’t it?”

You are worth pretty big things.

Parker took a breath. He sounded unsure. “I’d need to know more about that mark thing first. I don’t… wanna lose myself, you know?”

We have plenty of time, Parker.  It’s almost a blessing, in its own way. He let out a soft rumble. When we were thrown to Carcosa, I was so afraid. It was happening too fast. And it hurt, to hear he… would not merge with me, yet, but I also… I wasn’t done. For the first time, Parker, I felt like there was more this world could offer me. And I am so glad I get to spend it with you. Everything I’ve seen in the last eight months has meant more to me than… than the whole of this palace combined.

Parker exhaled slowly. “I ain’t sayin’ yes yet, but what’s it mean if you mark me?”

Your soul would be linked to mine until the end of time itself. You would share in my immortality; while you could be killed, you would not age, or sicken, and I would be able to sense you. Feel you. If you needed my aid, or my company, I could go to you; and I could call you if I needed you. Sunny sighed. It is the highest honor a Great One can bestow upon a mortal. You would be my chosen, and I would hold you aloft as a beacon to all.

Parker licked his lips. “Sorta sounds like… fairy tale marriage.”

Huh. I hadn’t thought of that connotation, Sunny mused. I… Suppose so?

“You’re serious. I wouldn’t age?”

I am. If you wished, you could live forever.

Parker fell silent. He studied the Dreamlands, or at least the view tonight—the city moved, after all, so it wouldn’t always be this.

“I was so sure I’d die young,” Parker whispered. “And here you are, talkin forever.”

Sunny dearly wished he had Parker’s hands, or at least one of them. You’re worth forever. I love you, Parker.

Parker shifted forward, legs crossed, head down. Tears slid past their lips. “Never thought I’d hear that, either.”

Oh, Parker…

“I love you too, Sunny, whatever that means. I dunno. This is all new.”

You’ve been in love before, Sunny pointed out.

“Not returned. Changes things up a bit.”

Sunny was definitely drunk. If Arthur didn’t love you back, he deserved…

“Shhh, it’s okay.” Parker stroked his lips. “I think I’m better at talking now than I was. So it’s good. I don’t know about marking, but… six years maybe ain’t long enough, after all.”

Sunny wouldn’t just be missed. Sunny was wanted. He fell silent, and he couldn’t cry, but he could settle in Parker’s mouth and taste the god-whiskey and watch the sleeping world.

And it was very good.

Notes:

Sunny's poem is Iris of Life by Zitkála-Šá.

#malevolent #malevolent podcast #malevolent fic #malevolent fanfic #parker yang #sunny (surrogate) #surrogate series

[purposelynana]

What Did I Watch: #35

This week, I thought a lot about the word 'forever' and it did sound scary. Infinite. No stopping. Just go on and on.

I think I'm going to stop watching Hidden Agenda. Because I never convinced there was a hidden agenda. I genuinely think it's going to pull up a plot twist a la David Fincher. But nope. No surprises either.

Am I hoping too much?

Perhaps.

Besides the missing hidden agenda (for now, who knows for the next 2-3 episodes), I have a tiny bit problem with how Dunk recited his dialogue. It wasn't bad acting per se, but it sounded to me like he read a script. The way he uttered words by words, especially during banter with Joong, or when their characters having overlapping sentences, it just didn't come out natural. Dunk particularly slow down his words so that Joong can caught up to him and making it as it seemed that he was interrupting him. And that happened so many times. I was like, in real world, no one ease off their chatter unless they were finishing their speaking or they predicted their listener about to interfere. I mean if you're engaging a very hefty conversation, would you care about your listener that much so that you could predicted that they were about to against you? I don't buy it.

It's like you have a script and yet you chose to let out words as if you read it and not trying to make it as sound as you in your normal fucking life. It was weird. I got agitated just by watching people speaking like they were in first grade's play.

(the gif was there when i was searching by 'hidden agenda thai'. might as well use it.)

I'm angry for the little things, in particular towards Thai BL. The lack of continuity between the scenes. The illogical choices in set designs (remember there were so many candles during the sex scene in La Pluie? yeah, what's the point?). Plenty of unnecessary characters to make up the episode. The shortage of adult stories where adult themes presented such as paying mortgage, or maybe sucked at your job, instead of having everyone just to making out in order to push the agenda of being adult. It's not adult. Having sex is basic necessities, even in high school they can do that. You know there is a life outside love. Show me.

So when Laws of Attraction came to my life, I was like, finally. Goodness gracious. Yassssss. I want to see people going to work and kick some asses and love is just a bonus. Arggggghhhhh.

It was on the same path as Modu which is great. It wasn't mind blowing-ly fantastic. But it was crazy and full of imperfect characters and not trying to be some pick-me girls. Like it's not "well I'm hot, I do smoke, I'm bad and I'm proud of it" kind of attitude. Charn is questionable and bad in a very messed up way, which is awesome. He doesn't want to be fix even in the name of love. Because if he wanted to be fix I hope he's going to psychiatrist.

My only beef is that it was very lakorn-y. It was so damn lakorn to point I laughed pretty hard at some scenes while watching it. The singing at the market? The cringiest thing I've ever watched. Crap, why did they have to do this?

At last, I'm about to share you a song and feasibly one of the main reasons I'm looking forward to Friday.

Please DeeHup for the love of god, you cannot mess this up. YOU CANNOT FUCKING THIS UP. Because you already have the base, which is an extraordinary story. The color palette and cinematography are top notch. The music is freaking wonderful. For the first time in my life of watching Thai BL, finally a good sound mixing. One of the fundamentals of visual media is a fucking sensible sound mixing. It is essential thing and can be very annoying if production just set aside that in favor of what, handsome people who cannot act. The hell.

I Feel You Linger in the Air is wet dream for technical maniac like me. Audiophile in me pleased. Cinephile in me satisfied. Acting? Come on, it's starring the great Nonkul.

Furthermore, the first 5 minutes of this show, is a cinema. The sound that comes out of it. The creeks on the stairs. The muffled bedroom voices. The eerily atmosphere created by a haunting score. Darling, sound can do wonder.

Sometimes I never cared on how story unravel before our eyes. And it's kinda sad for me because everyone having their own interpretation about stories, compositions, and frames. But rarely talking about sound and how critical it is to storytelling. Sound can tell you so many different things before characters uttered their words. Sound is the door between realism and fallacy. Good sound is able to make a visual presentation become such an immersive experience. Bad sound is a joke, a laughable attempt to making me trust to everything you presented.

Bold statements for bold times.

#hidden agenda #laws of attraction #i feel you linger in the air #what did i watch

[morgansmornings]

get to know the author!

name : Stoat, Tori, ‘Hey You with the face’ works too

pronouns : She/Her

preference of communication : Uhm... I prefer DMs. Just so I know basic proof of life? I’m not pushy, nor am I up your nose? I will poke and see if you are okay if I haven’t heard from you in a while. But I admit, communication is my weakness and downfall.

most active muse :  Jayden is slowly getting louder. Then there is the useless lump of werewolf on the couch that I am concerned if he is still breathing. -shrug-

experience / how many years :  I've been writing fanfic since I was in middle school, mostly on my own, but I did get a partner and have more than one composition note book of rp-fic buried in boxes somewhere. But on this platform I have had several failed attempts since.... I wanna say.... 2010? Yeah I know I’m old af. Thank you.

best experience : Since I actually found people to write with Jayden, I have to say that her third active year was the best. I had mutuals, a groove, and just enjoyed writing.

rp pet peeves : Having no Canon Characters, and being a more dominant personality leaning Female Oc... yeah to say finding a foothold or even having someone deign to give me a glance let alone actually read my writing is a bitch with the toxic demands. To say the standards that have been set since the beginning is fucking awful to live up to. Unpopular Opinion, that is sure to get me hate, BUT... as it has come up in many an offline conversation is that *Your Canon was someone’s OC at some point in history!* Just saying, maybe don’t be a dick?

fluff, angst, or smut : Yes? All of them? Though I am not great at writing smut, preferring to fade to black or even move that off the dash. I am not shy about talking about sexual things. I can fluff till the Highland Cows come home. And just don’t ask about Angst. Or if you want just ask @brooklynislandgirl and mention JAHSFF. 

plots or memes : Both?? Both is good.  I prefer plotting even if it takes me 10,000 years and a crick in the neck to even approach you with one to begin with. But Memes are a great ice-breaker. And it gives the chance for Muses to get a first impression. Though existing ships of all kinds are welcome to memes too.

long or short replies :  I am a multi-para writer. I always have been? Meme answers can vary between two and three paragraphs a minimum. I occasionally can do one or to-liners for a meme answer but that is rare.

time to write : For the rest of July, anytime. I just have to actually get off my ass and just write. Between August and May, with Mondays, Fridays, and Saturdays being weird. I’m on in early afternoons.

are you like your muses : I mean maybe? 

Jayden is confident, shaped like I wish I was, know what she wants and goes after it. Doesn’t take shit and is loyal to her friends and family. I have the loyalty part. She is proud where I am not. Full of life and spontaneous where I am more introverted and have to plan every single thing down to the minute with back up plans which lead to me bailing on most things. I over think too much where she is one intrusive impulse from getting arrested most of the time.

Avery is different. As he and I share the level headed, mediator, councilor, voice of reason traits. But clearly he is male and over a foot taller than I am. And far more charming than I could ever be. 

Even then they are parts of what I wish I could be. A living fantasy in written form and escape from what I am as a Mun and person. 

Tagged By: @prettytm Tagging: All five of you still following me

#More Memes for the Meme Gods | Memes #About the Stoat of Sarcasm l Mun Things #OOC: Notes from the Stoat

[captorsicallfriends]

So in school this one year I had this one bitch in my class whom we will call Regina George for hopefully obvious reasons. And she was just. A massive bigot. Constantly bullying the neurodivergent kids, being an asshole to gay ppl, openly hating sushi. She was just,,, the worst. And I had made it my personal mission to destroy her (not like that you sickos). I drew a shitty copy of her face and stuck it to a pillow whenever I needed to punch something and you may think I'm lying about that much like a politician may say he wants equal opportunity for all, or a person on the internet claims I'm "really not that attractive so I should stop worshipping myself" which doesn't even make sense because like hello can you see me rn and also all my trauma and mental illnesses are stored in my dump truck ass which is why it's so big and you probably think I'm deflecting my deep rooted insecurities by making jokes about how hot I am which is not true and- point is I really hated this Regina bitch. So deep was my burning desire to set her hair on fire that I hatched a plan. Regina obviously wants more bigots and Trump supporters in positions of power, right? What better way to anger her than have me, an openly queer and pagan punk that's read the communist manifesto 3 times, get onto the school council leadership team? Pretty smart, right? Wrong. I had no leadership experience whatsoever and in hindsight I probably should've been focused on getting onto the team to help people rather than have my one motivation be a giant middle finger to some rich cishet girl who's dad is probably gone. Ok that was dark but you get what I'm saying, I hated this bitch. But anyway, I gave my big speech about leadership and equality and if I got onto the team I'd give the school bathrooms actually good toilet paper that doesn't feel like I'm having intercourse with a cactus covered in sandpaper. And it worked. My unhinged demonic definitely-possessed-by-a-crack-addict, stop-trying-to-drink-the-box-of-juice-you-found-in-a-bin-wtf-is-wrong-with-you self got onto a team full of white brunette children with rich parents. Excellent. Now all I needed to do was convert a herd of pubescent children into spitting on Regina's shoes and throwing gas cans back at the police. Shouldn't be hard, right? Wrong again. Apparently no one is willing to listen to a short feminine presenting dork with anger issues. Weird. My plan to make Regina's life miserable was failing. And there was only one thing left to do. You know those thoughts you get, where the side of your brain that practices kindness and forgiveness tells you not to do it but the other side that eats crayons and memories WAP is telling you to do it for no other reason than it'd be fucking hilarious if you were a character in a tv show (which I'm starting to feel like with U guys. I'm not mad tho, I feel like a small mammal in an enclosure as a group of four year olds watches me take a shit as they start giggling hysterically). So I stared deep into the mirror of agony and asked God where my moral stance lies if not elsewhere than replaceable specks of dust on a dirt road. And god, with her many mouths and her many tragedies, says nothing. So anyway I bought a roll of stickers of the lgbt pride flag online and stuck them on all of Regina's belongings without her knowing. Yes it was funny as shit no I don't regret being an asshole. The immense amount of joy it brought me to see this girl become enraged and try to frantically tear off a sticker of a rainbow off her school bag. Which really proves that you can do all the goodness your heart demands of you but at the end of the day death and life do not care what you have done and so why not make yourself immortal. Anyways this has been fun bestie love U also who do you speculate I am I'm curious 💖💖💖

oh my gods i don’t know if i should be proud or terrified, i’m most likely feeling both. but honestly she had it coming

#diya answers #ughhh i have no idea who you could be #all i know is that you’re australian bc you called your parents bogans #idek if you’re a mutual or not 😭 #anon

[debaroohoo]

One thing I don’t miss about gaming in the older generations is no auto saving, not being able to save whenever you feel like it, and the possibility of save points and checkpoints being a decent chunk of time before whatever point it was that you died. Getting through a difficult section that took multiple attempts only to die shortly after then respawning to right before that section sucked! It stressed me out! I’m pretty sure I can blame a few gray hairs on it!

Time loop games have that same vibe for me. Dying is part of the gameplay and sometimes has to happen to progress, but it’s like I’ve got a weird primal instinct that’s constantly on alert and goes into overdrive whenever I’m in a difficult fight. I know that I get a little better after each attempt, or maybe I’ll get lucky with the gear drops on the next run, but it just feels wrong.

I’ve been playing Returnal for the last few days and after a few hours of playing my body is wired. It’s meant to be challenging so there are no easier difficulty settings to try out if you can’t quite cut it. But!! My third attempt went great!! I made it to the boss of biome 1 and beat it on the first try. The PlayStation trophy stats say about 58% of players that started the game didn’t make it that far, so I feel pretty dang proud of myself.

Unfortunately, biome 2 kicked my ass a few sections in and it took multiple attempts to make it to the boss. I got halfway through the third stage before kicking the bucket and waking back up at the crash site was kinda demoralizing? I was not looking forward to fighting my way through all that again. When I got to the base of the mountain in biome 2 and there was a teleport back to the peak I almost cheered in relief.

The main reason I tried out Returnal is, no joke, the fact that the protagonist is a middle aged woman. I’m uh…not that far out from that age range (depending on how you define it) so it’s very refreshing! The challenging difficulty was definitely a turn off - and might still be, who knows if I’ll end up beating it - but there’s enough anti-frustration features to keep me from throwing in the towel just yet. If I had to fight all the bosses again in every run like in Hades, I think I would’ve immediately uninstalled if I couldn’t bypass Phrike lol.

Since I kinda suck, I have no idea when I’ll finally manage to finish, if ever, so I looked up the playtime estimates. I am…very skeptical.

How are people beating the main story in 20 hours??? And that’s an average, so some people are doing it in less than that??? What sorcery is this??? I’m not sure how long I’ve been playing, but it’s gotta be just under 10 hours and I’ve only seen 2 of 6 biomes. What the hell.

Anyway, I think I’ve finally calmed down after my last play session so it’s bedtime!

#The Forgotten City didn’t stress me out but at least that one didn’t have a lot of fighting #text post #video games #Returnal

[rippeanuts1950-2000]

Diary of a teenage ghost Hunter

Friday June 25th 4:00 pm My bedroom)

What does a 16 year old ghost hunter do when her parents force her to move to some weird ass town in the middle of nowhere? Find the nearest book shop of course! Joking, joking. Though that is exactly what I did as soon as my parents said I could go out. Hey, don’t judge me. The bookshop was the one thing I was looking forward to about this place and let me tell you, it was worth the wait.

The place shouldn’t even be called a shop! It should be called a book armory? No, wait, that sounds weird. A book outlet? Nope, it still doesn’t work. Whatever, I’ll figure it out later. So I went to the huge bookshop that I think used to be a Barnes & Nobles that got turned into a regular bookshop. It’s nice to know I’m supporting a small business. Small meaning it’s owned by a family and not some corporate place. Like I said, the place was huge. Anyway, I went in and spent twenty minutes just gaping at everything. It was beautiful. Filled to the brim with books and really cool knick knacks at some great prices. No joke, I bought a sketch book, some pens and pencils, a journal, some decorations for my room, and some books I’ve been wanting for a while, for under $200! I’m living the dream life honestly.

While I was there, I ran into what I could only describe as a stereotypical mean girl. I did not get her name because I ran away before she could scream at me. That happens to me way more than it should. Trouble is, I don’t know if she was a ghost or not. No one else seemed to notice her and I got a few weird looks when I screamed an apology at her. Maybe I was just too loud? Well if she wasn’t a ghost at least I don’t have to deal with her at school since mom and dad finally agreed to homeschool me. I think it was a way to get me to shut up about not wanting to hide my sexuality from people even if I get bullied. I’m a proud lesbian, I’m not hiding that part of me.

No matter how hard it is.

NOPE! DON’T GO THAT ROUTE BRAIN!

But I also won’t deal with it cause it’s summertime thank goddess.

Anyway, I love my new journal! It’s so pretty and it has cute little chibi ghosts on the cover! I cannot not wait to use it for more interesting things I find at the bookshop. Oh and write stuff about my ghost hunting. That’s also why I got it.

Obviously. 

Also my new room is really cool. Mom and Dad found this huge house for surprisingly less than a million dollars and I got the top floor all to myself. Granted, there’s only three rooms up here but Mom says I can turn the second room into an art room! Isn’t that great! Now I won’t have to go outside to make something because my parents are neat freaks and they hate messes. The room I'm in currently is my bedroom and it has all my stuff in it since Dad came up here first to set everything up while Mom and I drove down here yesterday. I still need to unpack so I should probably get started. 

Saturday June 26th 1:30 am My Closet)

Holy shit.

That’s all I have to say after what has been transpiring for the past hour and half.

I knew there was a reason why my parents got the house so cheap!

Twelve people died here.

Correction, twelve people were killed here.

TWELVE PEOPLE WERE KILLED HERE!

WHAT THE FUCK!

Look, I get that my parents want me to help in the family business and hunt ghosts so that we help them go to the other side and blah blah. Especially since I’m the only one in my family since my great great grandma who can see ghosts. But moving me into a house where the souls are still haunting it and need to go to the otherside, is taking it too far!

Okay let me start from the beginning.

It all started after I woke up at midnight. I was thirsty so I went downstairs to get a glass of water. I get my glass of water and go back to my room, knowing that I probably wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. So I’m thinking about what book I’m gonna read or if I should watch tv on my phone again, when I see a very pretty girl with silky black hair and pale skin digging through my closet and muttering that I have too much flannel. Being the mature person that I am, I threw my water at her and screamed, “Begone intruder!” The girl just looked at me and smirked.

“I’m dead and I live here, so I’m not an intruder.” She said and that’s when I realized that the girl had gashes all over her body and her very cute outfit was covered in blood. “Why are you in my room?” I asked, not thinking what else to say. The girl snorted and floated over to me. “Because you, Cassandra Mendez, are going to help me and my cousins with our problem.” She said, placing her hands on my shoulders. Instead of feeling cold and uncomfortable like it usually does when a ghost touches me, it felt pleasantly icy and comforting. “Whoa, whoa. You know my name and I don’t know yours! That’s not fair.” I said, because all my brain cells left me when the pretty ghost girl touched me.

The girl giggled. “You’re right, that isn’t fair Cassandra. Let’s fix that, shall we? I’m Butterfly Thompson, nice to meet you.” Butterfly said and now that I could properly see her eyes, I noticed they were light green. “Butterfly, that’s an interesting name.” I said. “My parents were hippies, Cassandra.” She said as she let go of my shoulders. She went back to digging in my closet. “Cassie.” I said dumbly. Butterfly looked up, confused. “What?” She asked. “I go by Cassie, not Cassandra. Now can you tell me why you're here?” I asked, really hoping this whole thing was some dream.

“Cassie. I like that. Less of a mouthful. Anyway, I’m here to save you from the flannel nightmare that is your closet.” Butterfly said and I tried to ignore the way my stomach fluttered when she said my name. “You and I both know that’s not true.” I said exasperated. She hummed in response. “Oh but it could be. But unfortunately it’s not. At least not right now. I’m here because I need your help to prove that my family and I were murdered.” Butterfly said. I blinked at her. First of all, why me? Second of all, she was murdered? “How many people died and how did they die?” I asked, not sure what else to say.

Butterfly started counting on her fingers. “Twelve. They took out Blake and Bloom and their parents first. Stabbed Aunt Bria and Uncle Braxton I think, I was hiding in the closet with Burst so I don’t know. They pushed Blake and Bloom out the window, their deaths were immediate. Then they went after Blaze and Briar but Aunt Britnay and Uncle Ben fought back. Unfortunately, their battle was for naught as the killer somehow managed to strangle them before throwing Briar and Blaze out the window as well. They took a little longer than the other two to die. You know this guy had a thing for throwing kids out the window. Then they came to closet me and my brother were in. Mom and Dad fought as hard as they could but in the end they didn’t make it either. I don’t know how they were killed. The killer pulled me out of the closet first but unlike my cousins I fought back. They managed to get a couple gashes and hits on me before I was thrown out the window. My death was immediate. Burst’s wasn't. They died in the rose bushes, bleeding out because the killer stabbed him before throwing them out the window like everyone else.” Butterfly said, her voice monotone.

“Then why was the killer not caught?” I asked, because it sounded like a bunch of innocent people were brutally murdered here, no questions asked. Butterfly sighed and sat on my bed. “They were smart. They made it look like the adults committed suicide and that us kids fell off the roof. Even down to the fact that they made it look like Burst was impaled. But we know the truth.” She said, a bitter smile on face. “Where do I come in?” I asked and she grinned. “You’re gonna be homeschooled, it's summer, you can talk to all of us, and you can talk to our friends who are alive and help us! Together you can find a way to figure out who the killer is and why they did it so we can put their ass in jail.” Butterfly said excitedly.

“Wait us?” I asked, because I thought she was the only ghost here. She nodded vigorously. “Yes us, I was sent to talk to you before we bombroad you with everything.” She explained. “Let me think about this before I do anything.” I said. Butterfly nodded. “Okay, get back to me in the morning! Sleep well Cassie.” She said, giving me a hug before floating down somewhere. 

Well after writing this down, I know what to do. I have to help her. She didn’t deserve what happened to her and her family at all. Now I’m actually gonna go to bed because, damn, I'm tired.

#original writing #original character #original story #tw blood #tw death

[tzipor-feather-blog]

How did I become a genius-Chapter Three

I'm with my friend from kindergarden. She's my best friend. I'm 10 now.

She always invents stupid lies and says I'm a bad friend if I don't believe her. When I do believe her she then says how stupid I am for believing such lies. That she was just pretending. I guess that's hard love.

I learn that you can't trust people. You should never let your guard down or they'll just mock you for trying to be a good friend. Trust can never be achieved. People will always laugh at your feelings and backstab you. That's just how things are.

I should never show weakness or everyone will use it against me. So I created this intricate system to solve it. I can't change them, but I can change myself. That's what my parents taught me.

It consists of a set of rules of how to behave around others and a cage of emotions inside my head. If I control my every moment, there are less chances of being attacked physically or emotionally, thus achieving inner peace.

An ass face is also super important. If they're scared of you and feel like they can't approach you, you can't get attacked. No one gets inside your physical nor your mental space.

Some of the rules are:

. Always respect people no matter what. Even if they disrespect you, and you disrespect them back, no one will acknowledge it. (I've learn't this one at school, after I was bullied by my classmates, the teacher asked what happened. They cried saying that I insulted them. I said that that was true but that they insulted me first. The teacher made us both apologize even though I was just defending myself and didn't dig deeper into the situation). This leads to the next rule.

. Everything's my fault even when it isn't. (If the teacher's always make me apologize when my classmates bully me, my mom gets mad because I can't defend myself and my dad says that people only do stuff to you if you let them, that everything depends only on me, there's no other explanation. It's just logic).

. Never show weakness. Never like something that others don't like in public. Never show desire, for sexual desire (or any desire) is always something to be laughed at and not a real and valid emotion. Desire should never be felt, because if you feel it, other's could see it, and if others could see it, they can laugh at you and use it against you. Any emotion or action that is not considered normal or is considered weird can and will be used as a weapon. That leads to the next rule.

. Always be vigilant of your surroundings. If you're always on alert mode with a poker face, no one can see what you're really feeling and therefore remind you for years on end of whatever action you've done. Alert mode never ceases even when I'm alone in my room. You never know when someone could be watching you.

. Be a good girl. Always. For if I'm not, I'll be scolded by others and never recognize I may have had a reason for doing a bad thing. It's not worth it doing things to defend myself if I always have to apologize for them. So it's better to always be good so that I don't have to go through the hassle of apologizing. It's just a waste of time defending myself. Nothing changes. And it never will.

. Be a good student, because it's your only obligation and you should make your parents proud. It's the only thing that goes well in your life. Losing control of that it's like losing control of everything else.

. Always use the cage of emotions in case a rule is broken. Scold myself with autoinflinged headaches and inner screams until I can't anymore with my own crying. It helps me keep myself in line.

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#writeblr #writing #writing community #writblr #writerblr #writeblr community #writers on tumblr #how did i become a genius #web novel #novel writing

[twenytwenytwo]

Dec 11 2022 (6:08pm)

Okay, so the past couple days during my little anxious swell I’ve reeeeaallly missed Izzy in a particularly gripping way. The feeling is new. I genuinely miss her, like in such a classical way. A way I’m not sure if I’ve ever felt in my life.

My feelings have become more confusing basically. I’ve forgotten about the frustration, and all the endless fighting, annoying things, and am now left with what I like about Izzy. Us just being tight, togetherness, company. I guess I’m quite literally not used to being this solo in this current phase of my life. Yeah, at many other times, it’s been my default state, but I’ve accumulated habits that are not that.

Yeah so, it’s rather intense. I go there to see her. I get emotional. Again, going over there is not wise. I have to learn tho lol. I hug her and it feels so good, I think of cuddling up together and watching a movie, the thought eases me. The familiarity of everyone, everything there… I feel what I am no longer in the company of.

Izabel says she doesn’t want to have another relationship in that house. I don’t blame her, and couldn’t agree more. It was a bit odd, and surely didn’t help things along, at least in the way that she did not feel in the right place.

Part of me wants to get back together, go back to normal, but the smart part of me knows that’s exactly what I don’t want. I don’t want to go back to what our normal was. It was not harmonious. It was stressful and draining and uninspiring. It was not bringing us joy and fulfillment.

It’s tough. I feel very disoriented. I’m here at my house. It’s a somewhat confusing setting. It feels foreign. I understand I shouldn’t be too weirded out. I’m just creating a new relationship with it, my room and I have some catching up to do. Not to mention, my own personal relationship with what my room is. I shared a room with Izzy for so many nights, it’s kinda weird being in my room, and having so much head space.

My mom says I should just enjoy the ride. She says I’m putting too much pressure on myself to figure it out. I think she’s right. I want to feel like I have it figured out though, even if it’s stupid, y’know? That youthful arrogance, thinking you know it all. I want the feeling of having figured it out.

Let’s figure it out right now. I know I’ll have a house, live somewhere, and I want it to be quaint, peaceful, cozy, full of love and life. That means I’ll need good money, and thus a good job. I’m working on that right now, and it should be great. I really need to lean into how great the world of video production will be for me.

I want kids, but only when I’m confident I can care for them very well. I’m quite sure I don’t want kids in my 20’s. Between 30-35 seems like a reasonable window, depending on how lucky I get, etc. This window is acknowledgedly clique, it’s hardly original.

So I need to work hard, build my value up, and enjoy myself. There are folks out there snortin coke every weekend, absolute debauchery, I needn’t feel prissy about leaning into my youth a little. Go out, have fun. Serious. This is something you must get out of your system.

Play fucking music. You’re so fucking talented man, seriously, you’re really really gifted. Such an amazing artist, you would make teenage Adrian so amazingly proud. Teenage Adrian would also tell you to loosen the fuck up! This is exactly what he was worried about, getting too tangled up in bullshit and not believing in yourself! Do him another solid and take a breath. Do something for pleasure.

Work on your video business. It’s going to ensure you don’t have to sell your fucking amps or some fucked up shit. Seriously imagine that! That’s what it’s about. You already know that life can be wack and that it doesn’t give a shit about what you want. Cover your ass, and enjoy doing it.

Fix your friendships. You’ve learned many lessons that you had to learn. No way out of em. You’ve got to make mistakes. Now fix em up, and never give up. Don’t be so hard on your friends, and paranoid they don’t like you or something. Remember when you had times you were aloof? Busy with other things? They have complex lives too, ones you can’t even understand. Have faith in them.

Take it easy. Relax. Enjoy. Quit complicating shit, yeah life’s proving weird and your nature is one that likes certainty, friends, girlfriends, feeling like a big mofo, all of which are in flux.

So there we go. You’re 25. Work on your career path so you don’t have to bitch about money. Play music and don’t give so many fucking shits about your none lost idealistic fantasy of a jerkfest your rockband is suppose to be. Honour the craft, fuck the rest.

Oh and, for now, yeah, you’re gonna be working some part time job. That is the price you paid for being a rockstar and not getting some other job. Remember that and deal with, don’t be a spoiled cunt. Milk it. You’re gonna be raking in dough soon enough, and you’ll remember the days when you worked some stupid, meaningless job and be jealous.

Nothing matters right now, don’t hesitate during decisions, just do whatever, all roads lead to Rome. What? I dunno. Just be cool.

[raifenlf]

Why Loki’s Sylvie Is A Mary Sue

So I am firmly in the camp that Sylvie on the Loki series was/is a Mary Sue.  The last episode made me feel better and like maybe the show was doing a thing where they were faking you out that she was a Mary Sue only to show she was actually sort of a bad guy and I liked that.  But all the recent interviews make me think the show wants to go back to her being a Mary Sue.

But I feel like when I call her out for being a Mary Sue people tell me what are you talking about, she’s not a Mary Sue, bad things happen to her, etc.  But that doesn’t actually make her not a Mary Sue.  

Also, before we start, I know some people find Mary Sue sexist.  But I personally use the term for guys and girls. I don’t use the term to belittle women.  I use the term to criticize a poorly written character.

And I know Mary Sue is often used to describe fanfic characters.  But to me, this series is kind of like a fanfic because the writers took a character who had been in canon MCU material for ten years and then created characters around that character.  So, I kind of review it like I would a fanfic.  It’s very different than if the writers had created a brand new show with all of their own new characters.

Anyway, if you are not totally familiar with the Mary Sue term, then check this out:

I know the term Mary Sue probably means different things to different people.  But I have always used these guidelines when I write my own fanfic to make sure my characters never come off as a Mary Sue.

This article really gives you a full scale of what a Mary Sue is.  If you start reading it, you’ll immediately see why Sylvie is.  But I’m going to take out the parts that most fit Sylvie just to highlight why I believe she is a Mary Sue.  I apologize for this being so long.

Mary Sue Character Traits

Personality

Erm... what personality? The typical Mary Sue doesn't have one per se, because she isn't meant to be a character; rather, she's an entity by which the author makes cool stuff happen.

I feel like that is Sylvie in a nutshell.  She doesn’t have a personality.  I feel like even though she ate screentime, I still don’t really know her at all.  The writers love to say she’s badass.  That’s not a personality.  

Sometimes when I am writing stories for fun and creating new characters, I like to take surveys as my fictional characters.  Like the kind of surveys you’d see in a magazine, like personality types, what’s your dating style, etc.  I figure if I don’t know what my character would do in any of those situations, then I need to keep working on my character.  And if I was trying to fill out a survey pretending I was Sylvie I would have no idea what to answer because she doesn’t have a personality.  She’s just “cool”.

What little personality a Mary Sue has isn't as important as how other characters react to it. No matter how shy or socially awkward Mary Sue is supposed to be, other characters will be inexplicably drawn to her

This is so Sylvie.  Loki falls in love with her...why, exactly?  He falls in love with her in the big Nexus event moment...why?  Because she had a tough childhood?  Mobius spends like two seconds with her in a car and goes from hating her to saying she’s his favorite Loki.  For. No. Particular. Reason.

She's extremely persuasive; everyone finds her opinions to be better than their own

She enchants Hunter B-15 and then immediately Hunter B-15 makes it her whole entire life mission to back Sylvie up.  

And occasionally she'll be a complete asshole...This can manifest itself in several ways...The author wants to write a badass but doesn't know how. This leads to a character who mistreats everyone around her and is never called out on her abrasive, casually abusive behavior.

Sylvie talked down to Loki and treated him like garbage for all of episode three, but it was never portrayed as a bad thing and we never got any impression Sylvie later felt bad for the way she treated Loki

The author doesn't know how to hold back the character, meaning that she will succeed at practically everything. This means that when she encounters rules or authority figures who would otherwise prevent her from doing what she wants to do, she rolls right through them (and they praise her for her "boldness" in defying regulations). If a bad guy is violent and aggressive, she can beat him by being more violent and aggressive (with all that entails). It's impossible for her to go overboard because she's protected by Protagonist-Centered Morality.

Sylvie is shown as a kid to immediately be able to grab a Tempad and run away.  And she can kick ass way better than Loki, for no known reason.  She is always able to fight back against the TVA when they attack her.  And she can kill lots of innocent TVA agents but it’s okay because TVA bad, Sylvie good.

Skills

She will always be superior to the canon characters, regardless of what canon has established they can do or whether it makes any sense.

Whose skill was needed to defeat Alioth?  Sylvie’s.  Of course.  Sylvie needed to teach Loki her skills in order for him to succeed (!).  And again, she is literally called the superior Loki.

Relatedly, there's no effort to her skills. She never actually trains or learns anything to become more powerful; she just wins the Super Power Lottery, or is a freakish natural learner, or is just Inexplicably Awesome

We’re told Sylvie literally taught herself magic.  She literally taught herself to enchant people.  That. Makes. No. Sense.  Like, I have so many questions.  Like, why would it even occur to her to teach herself that?  And how????????????  This is really lazy writing.

Canon Character Relationships

Mary Sue is often designed to hook up with another character, often as a form of Wish Fulfillment. This isn't that bad in and of itself (okay, it is kinda weird), but Mary Sue accomplishes this without any sense of realism. She just grabs her lover's attention straight away, and their relationship will never face any obstacles or tension; it's true love from the start and nothing else. The biggest giveaway is if the love interest is explicitly the author's favorite character, and she essentially "cures" him of all the angst that ails him (at the expense of his characterization).

Yeah, so...this one should be pretty obvious to anyone who watched the show.  Loki literally falls in love with Sylvie immediately, and then he suddenly turns from “villain” to “hero” just because of loving her.  And this was definitely at the expense of his characterization.  And Loki just knows he falls in love with her.  There’s not even any moments of hmm what do I feel for this person?  It’s just true love, immediately.

She will be related to a canon character in some way. This (marginally) helps explain such phenomena as her being a Copy Cat Sue and other characters accepting her so easily.

Sylvie is a Loki variant.  They use this to help explain why Loki is drawn to her and why their falling in love immediately “makes sense”.

Most characters give her more heed than they normally would. The good guys never stop praising her

Seriously, it was so over the top and OOC for Loki to gush over her.  He literally tells her she’s amazing.  They don’t even make it subtle.

Characters' previously established personalities change in reaction to her. Proud, arrogant gimps suddenly acknowledge her superiority in everything. Reckless youths will listen to all her advice. Responsible leaders will defer to her instead. Villains will obsess with her to the detriment of all else. Extremely competent characters will become stumbling buffoons who require her help to do anything. Sweet, mild-mannered characters whom the author doesn't like turn evil and insult her. They all become unnaturally focused on her in some way.

Again, Loki’s whole personality changed in reaction to her.  He became a buffoon who needed her help to enchant the Alioth because of course he couldn’t do anything without her!  Hunter B-15 goes from doing whatever the TVA said to fighting the TVA just because of Sylvie.

Story Elements

Mary Sue is without exception a single-person Spotlight-Stealing Squad. The entire story hinges on her existence; if you removed her, there would be no story. 

Sylvie undoubtedly drove the whole story this season.  It all became about HER meeting the TVA heads because of HER trauma.  Loki’s life was only saved at the beginning because the TVA was trying to capture HER.  And SHE was the one who started the whole multiverse (!).

Mary Sue is The Chosen One, even if the setting already has one. There are many ways she can accomplish this: she can be a Sailor Earth type who "shares" the position with the canon hero; she may be vaguely "destined to help the destined one fulfill their destiny" (i.e. do all the work except the final blow so that the prophecy is still technically correct); or the canon hero may be revealed to be a Fake Ultimate Hero all along. Being the Chosen One doesn't necessarily involve her being a God-Mode Sue, especially as authors become aware of the phenomenon and try to avoid it, but it does make her critically important to the world and allows her to continue stealing the spotlight without the "god mode" label.

HWR wanted Sylvie to come with Loki in the end, like she was chosen all along right alongside Loki.  Like one of the most important characters in the entire MCU is now this character who we only met a few episodes ago.

Most Sues have an unusually Dark and Troubled Past. It's often used to create a Sympathetic Sue, but any type of Sue can have one

They tell us, over and over, how hard Sylvie’s life was because she was kidnapped by the TVA in order to create sympathy for her.

She almost never does anything wrong. In the rare instance that she does, it's usually; (a) a way for the author to disclaim her being a Mary Sue by introducing a single imperfection (that has no bearing on anything anyway), and (b) designed to show her smarts by making her feel instant remorse, and she'll be Easily Forgiven anyway:

So this one hopefully will not come true, as a lot can change between now and when the show is taped. But if the show goes on the way the behind the scenes team is talking, Sylvie immediately felt remorse for betraying Loki, and Loki has already forgiven her and is desperately looking for her.  Ugh.

Alternatively, she is more than capable of doing something wrong, be it in general moral terms or something that goes against whatever code she abides by, and she maybe even frequently does so, but don't expect the other characters or the narrative to ever acknowledge or comment on it in any real capacity. If the other characters do call her out, expect them to be treated like they're the problem for daring to criticize her at all.

Mobius calls her out for killing people, but Sylvie immediately says he’s a bad person and then Mobius agrees, because, of course.

She will often suffer from Special Snowflake Syndrome; i.e., she has a trait or backstory that sets her apart from her group or race.

She is the only female Loki, thus making her the special one among all the Lokis in episode five.

Presentation

In visual media, the camera just can't stop staring at her.

The camera would follow her in fight scenes rather than Loki.

Mary Sue Tropes

Okay, so there are specific Mary Sue tropes that Sylvie is.  One of those is Copy Cat Sue, which I think was referenced before.

Copy Cat Sue

A lot of fanfic writers...start to write something because of their passion for this character, but they find something about the character that doesn't mesh well. Maybe they're the wrong gender or are otherwise not close enough to the author's expectations...In any case, rather than put them through the Possession Sue process, they just get a Clone-O-Matic™ and out pops a Copy Cat Sue...the character might be intended as a replacement for the canon character, but without whatever icky traits the author hates. They'll then rob the spotlight, prove the canon character to be unworthy of his/her position, and either relegate the character to obsolescence or, perhaps, even remove them entirely.

Sylvie is basically a clone of Loki, she is a variant.  But she absolutely robbed the spotlight of Loki’s, and they literally call her the superior Loki.  I mean, they are literally not even being subtle about this.  And there was a feeling by myself (and a lot of other viewers) that Sylvie might ultimately replace Loki in the MCU. 

Black Hole Sue

Much like a black hole, this is a Mary Sue who "sucks in" the plot and characters to her. Characters will behave outside their personalities, logic will be defied, and rules will be broken for her sake.

Sylvie really does suck up all the plot and Loki definitely behaves outside of his personality just to fit the Sylvie show.

Jerk Sue

A Mary Sue who is mean or maybe even cruel, but are still treated as an ideal person.

Once again, Sylvie is basically a jerk all of episode three, but you’ve got Loki falling over himself to call her amazing in just the next episode.

Relationship Sue

A Mary Sue who exists to be the perfect mate for a specific character...this character has everything in the plot conspiring to enforce this One True Pairing...in Fanfiction, they are the perfect beloved of a canon character.

They literally have Mobius speculate that Loki falling in love with Sylvie is so extraordinary that it causes an entire Nexus event, that’s how huge this One True Pairing is (!).  And Sylvie is the love interest of Loki, the only character who had been around before the beginning of the series

TLDR: Sylvie has all the tropes of a classic Mary Sue character.  So calling Sylvie a Mary Sue isn’t being sexist or just randomly hating on the character.  If you use common Mary Sue characteristics to examine the character, she just has too many of these characteristics to ignore.

#loki negativity #antisylvie #loki critical #loki criticism #antisylkie

[afriendlyblackhottie]

Superstar

Summary: the secret is finally out, but something is off.

Request: can we get an update on Chris and black popstar!reader

Pairings: Chris Evans x Black!Popstar!Reader

Warnings: minors dni, smut, swearing, make up sex, girl on top, Daddy kink,

(A/N: I can’t believe I finally figured this thing out. It took me forever ugh. But I’m happy with how it ended up. Like really really really happy. Please like follow and reblog 💜 ✌🏾)

»»——————————-　♡　—————-————-««

“It’s fine,” you replied. Which obviously meant it was not fine.

Chris sighed as you looked away from the screen. “It’s not. I’m sorry, but I have interviews and events back to back. I’m trying.”

“Are you?” You finally looked back at him, furrowing your perfectly threaded brows.

“You know I am,” he said. “I promise I’ll come see you soon.”

You rolled your eyes. He bit his tongue. Refraining from telling you to behave. This didn’t feel like the time for that. He didn’t wanna upset you more. “You keep saying that but every time you push it back. I always come see you, but it’s never the other way around.” You went off. Clearly this had been something you’d been holding in. “You know what I gotta go. I’ll just talk to you later.”

It had honestly felt like a gut punch. Despite everything that’s been going on, the two of you had never really fought. Sure there was one time you’d gotten into a “disagreement” over something dumb once but it was over in like a second. This time felt different.

He was busy, you were busy. Distance is fucking hard. He was so proud of you and it made him feel guilty that he wasn’t really there with you.

Still he was really trying. He bought you flowers all the time. Texted you as much as he could. Fuck the two of you were at least in the same time zone so you could always FaceTime before bed.

When everyone found out there was this weird lull for a minute. Things just felt off. Maybe because of all the sudden attention and the way everyone seemed to be analyzing every move, but it was hard. But it didn’t matter. Because despite the weird slut shamey comments from too many people, the constant speculation about your sex lives, this weird tarot reading situation that people kept tagging you in, and obviously you ended up getting the brunt of most of the bullshit, you stuck through it.

There was one set of fans that was totally over the fucking moon. Then there was this other for both of you. The hate always seemed to happen for the same reason. Either way it was worse for you.

You always kept up a happy face though. That even though you’d bitch about the dumb shit they’d say you also read so much nice stuff. The even after that weird fucking segment from a dork that leaves his wife with a dry ass pussy and a few of the other fucking weirdos in that particular group of fuck wholes, you were okay. Everyone told him to not respond even though he wanted to so bad. But he was dying to say something, but he promised you so he refrained.

You were obviously right. It mostly died down. Of course there was this one particular dickhead that seemed to obsess over it. Even that became easy to ignore at some point. Not like you hadn’t kind of expected something.

Honestly it felt weird. Like he was worried about you. About how it was affecting you. If this was good for you. If he was good for you. Then the other part of him never wanted to leave your side. He just loved you.

Then a fucking bomb dropped. At first you rolled your eyes. Even laughed. It was like who the fuck cares where he thinks. It’s just then it’s became a discourse on twitter. On if it was fair for you to move on. It was such bullshit.

It was easy to mute certain words online and filtering as much as you could. Still not wanting to disrupt your happiness just because some jealous asshole had some dumb shit to say. It would have been fine if it didn’t end up in every interview you did.

Your album had finally dropped. Which came the press tour. Everyone heard about how you’d reworked it and it was so obvious he was why. Everyone felt the need to comment on it.

Of course he was asked questions about you. Everyone wanted to know as much as they could. He couldn’t even go to the grocery store without someone asking. Not to mention the way people would get when they saw you together.

It still didn’t compare to the absolute scrutiny you received. The way they’d dissect you. Everyone just running with a bullshit narrative that you’d led him on only to get with Chris and ghost.

Which wasn’t even true. You’d seen him at a few events. Got photographed together and suddenly everyone was running with that like it was true. Then a few days later there you were with him. Flirting with him on camera. Then letting him take you home so you could smoke and fuck.

Then the way you got caught. It just wasn’t a good look right after scrapping the album that was about him. Chris had read the lyrics. He hated that you ever had to feel like that. Not to say the entire thing was dedicated to your breakup, but after you’d done it all over it just wasn’t the same. Your heart was in it more. And people noticed. Despite the drama you were blowing the fuck up.

He was never the type to be in drama before. This was all new to him. Sure people speculated on his relationships. Hell there’d been speculation with his current costar. Fans and gossip blogs always did shit like that. He knew that. Hell he expected that kind of stuff to happen.

It was just that something was off and he realized that. Suddenly days that should have been scheduled together had been not happening. Something wasn’t right.

He knew he’d made sure to take those specific days off to see you on tour. It’s not like this was the first time he’d seen you. You tended to get more days off so you managed to make more time. Staying in bed for as long as you could. He fucking missed that. So yes he hopped on the fastest flight he could get.

The whole time there he was doing everything he could try and get a ticket. Not totally sure how to since it seemed like you were sold out.

He didn’t wanna be a fucking douche bag. Go up to someone like let me in I’m Captain America. You’d think he was a fucking dork. Well he could go up there and say hey I’m Chris Evans your boyfriend. Maybe he was still on the list.

Well he was going to have to look like an asshole because he had this big ass bouquet. Just hoping maybe it wasn’t too late. God his management and everything were about to be pissed, but he’d handle it. It’s just that ever since he met you, it felt like you belonged in his life. He wasn’t ready to lose that.

The thought had made him sick. It was like hey asshole. Either he got his shit together or he’d lose you. His fucking person. You were it him. And breaking up wasn’t an option if he could help it. Even if some tough decisions will have to be made.

Yeah he knew everyone would be pissed, but it was just something he’d have to deal with. It’s not like this has been a habit. It’s just that this time had been a little too long. Especially with all the problems going on.

If anything now that he was coming today he was here earlier. Which meant he could spend more time with you. Say sorry in your section of the bus. Get a hotel when you could.

“Hey, Chris!” Your tour manager greeted him with this fake ass smile.

“Hey,” he said probably sounding more nervous than he wanted to. He just wanted to see you already. “Is she already on stage?”

Your manager sighed then groaned. “See we just calmed her down. We feel like you being here might upset her more so-“

“What?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, side eyeing them as they’d rambled on. “You realize I’m her boyfriend, right?”

They bit their tongue and made a face before scrunching up their nose. “I’m aware,” they replied. “It’s just that we don’t need her having problems right before she goes on stage.”

It’s not that he didn’t get that, but fuck. If it was that bad he could make it better!

“There’s nothing I can do,” they replied with a shrug.

Yeah see that wasn’t going to work for him. He doesn’t know what the fuck was going on but he was getting the fuck inside. Whatever games everyone was playing was not keeping him from his girl.

He sighed and took his phone out. Considering he wanted to surprise you, at least he knew one person here that didn’t hate him.

“Why didn’t you just text me first!” Your best friend rolled her eyes.

Chris chuckled feeling relieved. If she didn’t hate him. You didn’t hate him. “I know. I should have. I just thought you’d be mad at me.”

“Look, you’re here. Her last dude would have never hopped on a plane for her like that.” She shrugged. “I like that about you.”

“Yeah I’m trying. It’s just… I feel like our schedules never line up anymore, but that’s okay I’m gonna talk to my team and tell them they can’t just add things without speaking to me first anymore,” he rambled on.

Chris almost missed the way she glared at your tour manager. “Yeah, that’ll be a start at least.”

Watching you in the studio had been magical to say the least. You looked so fucking cute all serious and energetic. Like you were so in love with what you were doing. He’d never been like this before. Honestly he felt like a fan girl.

You sang a lot at home. Like when you’d be fiddling around with different melodies or lyrics. Sometimes with acoustic guitar accompanying it. Then other times piano. There’d been a few times where you’d play together. Not that he was at your level. 

Those were some of his favorite moments. They seemed to be yours too because you’d giggle and bite your lip. Then you’d always end up on his lap. Kissing and grinding on him. But this? This was not the same.

You were in your element. And the crowd was probably just as pumped as he was. It’s not like you were the first famous woman he’d dated, but it was never like this. Something about you in that spotlight in your knee high boots and little costume. You were so fucking perfect. All made up. You looked like a fucking star. And you had no idea he was right there.

Your fans were clearly feeling it. Screaming along to every song. You honestly looked like you were having the time of your life. This place was fucking packed. All for you. God he couldn’t believe he almost missed this.

You looked so fucking perfect. He felt like a fucking fan girl. He can’t believe he almost missed this.

You still hadn’t noticed him from where he was, but you were performing like it didn’t matter. That’s his girl.

By the time you saw him, you did a double take. Walking off stage for a wardrobe change. Jaw dropping as you saw him.

“Chris?” He could see you say even though he couldn’t hear you over the

As your lip poked out he couldn’t stop himself as he went to you. Pulling you into his arms before you could even react. It didn’t even matter that all these other people were around.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked, voice cracking.

“I couldn’t just let you be mad at me,” he said rubbing your back. You finally wrapped your arms around his waist and he sighed in relief.

“Did they let you in okay?” You asked. “I put you on the list.”

“Yeah? Even though I was being a dick?”

“I always put you on the list,” you replied.

He sighed and kissed the top of your head. Fuck he really needed to step up. “Y/N, outfit change,” your manager said.

“We’ll talk after?” You asked pulling away from him.

“Yeah of course. You sounded amazing by the way.”

“Think so?”

“Of course I did,” he said with a smile before pecking your lips again. His eyes connecting with your manager’s who sneered at him as you finally went on your way.

It didn’t take long for you to be back into it. Up on stage putting in work. He doesn’t know how you did all of that. In heels.

He was genuinely bummed out when it was over. Then you were back in his arms giggling as he placed kisses all over your face. He actually couldn’t believe you were his girl. That you were this fucking amazing.

After the meet and greet and some other stuff the two of you finally got to be alone. Getting a hotel so the two of you could be alone. Honestly he was waiting for you to do something. Scream at him maybe.

Instead you let him hold you in the shower. A silence falling over you. Just wanting to be with you. Fuck he felt like such a fucking asshole still. At least he knew things weren’t broken.

Now you were sitting on his lap. Still clinging to him. Wearing his shirt while all he wore was a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. As much as he was enjoying having you so close he couldn’t not say anything. “I still wanna talk about this,” he said.

“Me too,” you replied, before getting ready to scoot off of him. Before you could he just wrapped an arm around your waist to hold you still.

Chris put his hand under your chin. Lifting it up so he could swipe his lips across yours. “It’s okay,” he whispered nuzzling his nose to yours. “We can be close.”

You nodded with your lip trembling. Resting your head against his strong chest. Sniffling as he placed kisses on your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Me too.”

“No it’s all me, okay. I’m gonna get down to the bottom of it.”

“What do you mean?” You asked. Eyes all welled up with tears.

Chris sat back. Wanting to get really comfortable like this. He just fucking wanted to hold you. “I don’t know. It’s like they sprung it up at me. I feel like it keeps happening.” He rubbed your thigh just trying to relax you. “It feels like the time I schedule with you always ends up getting changed around.”

“Do you think it’s someone on your team?”

“It could be,” he confessed.

“But, like, how? Why?” You were all teary. “Do they not like me?”

He sighed. “I dunno, Baby. It’s okay I’ll take care of it.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry for hanging up on you.”

“No, don’t you even,” he scoffed before kissing your cheek. “I deserved it.”

“I don’t care. I’m supposed to talk to you, I shouldn’t have-“

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cut you off as the tears finally started slipping out. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “Besides it’s what made me get off my ass. I couldn’t handle you being mad at me.”

“I just wanted to see you.”

“I know. That’s why I’m here.” He didn’t stop kissing your face. He hadn’t been able to do shit like this I’m too long. “I’m sorry for making you cry.”

“It’s okay,” you replied

He sighed contentedly and you sat up a little so that you could wrap your arms around his neck. Moving so you could straddle his lap. Putting your head into the crook of his neck. You wanted him close. And he was more than happy to wrap you up in his arms.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you more.”

You looked up at him with those watery eyes, his heart feeling like it was about to explode. He couldn’t let you go. Not when he saw the future in your eyes. Fuck.

Chris knew he loved you. He’d taken one look at you and said oh that’s wifey before you even met. Then when you did. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He’d be damned if someone ruined this. He’d get to the bottom of it. He had to. For you. He couldn’t picture life without you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I don’t like fighting with you.”

“I don’t like fighting with you either,” you replied with a chuckle as you sniffled, pulling away so you could look him in the face.

He half smiled, putting his hands over your hips. Moving to your ass to palm you and then back. You giggled and frowned. Before you could protest he pressed his lips to yours. Needing you close.

You wrapped your arms around him again. He pressed his lips to yours finally. This time not wanting to let go. There was this desperation. It had been to long. Longer than you usually go. Now that all the crying was out of the way now he could work on showing you just how sorry he was.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist. Putting you on his lap. Making you straddle him. Cupping your ass in his hands. Making you move up and down on his lap. Grinding your pussy against him.

You seemed to be just as needy as he was. He understood. First fight and all. Both of you wanted to put it in the past.

“Daddy,” you gasped into his mouth after he grabbed your bare ass this time. Could feel his dick getting hard. Pressing into your inner thigh.

Kissing got deeper. Tongues moving against each other’s. There was this warmth in his chest. Fuck he needed you.

His fingers going down to your pussy lips. Chuckling to himself as he remember that you hadn’t worn panties. You gasped again, but this time he kept you there. Not even letting you take a moment to relax. Pussy juices dripping onto him his fingers like honey.

Fuck you were oozing. Ready for him and only him. So many man would kill to be able to touch between your thighs. He was the only one allowed to though. Your pussy was his. You were his.

He pushed all the thoughts of what he needed to do out of his mind. All of that could wait until later. He didn’t wanna think about that when he was fucking your pussy with his fingers.

It had been a minute since he’d been inside of you. He needed to stretch you out a little. Needed to make sure you could take him. Wanted to take care of your pussy until you were cumming all over him. His little star. He had to take care of you.

With that he hurried up so he could get buried inside of you. Pushing in so deep and watching your face get all screwed up. Keeping you on top. Little pussy hugging his cock because he was still way too much for you.

At this point in your relationship, he knew exactly what to do to get you turned on. Not like he even had to do much. It was like the both of you were just fucking always ready. Nothing else mattered when you were alone.

Shit.

“Please don’t stop,” your whimpered. Knocking him out of his thoughts. He smiled up at you before kissing you again.

“That’s it,” he whispered. “That’s my girl. Look so pretty when you take my dick. Always take it so well.”

“I missed taking your dick,” you whimpered.

He stood up making you scream out as l cock dick impaled you deeply. Pussy clenching around him as you clung to him. Nails scratching against his flesh. Good he loved how you did that.

He’d wanted to take you over to the bed so he could fuck you right, but this was okay. He could fuck you like this. Holding you up in his strong arms. Moving you just like how he needed to.

“Fuck me, Daddy!” You cried. “Oh my god. You’re so fucking big! You’re gonna make me cum!”

“That’s it. Cum for me,” he said. “Fucking cum. Now.”

You buried your face into his neck as he helped you work through it. Still holding you up. Moving you how he needed you. Needing to get it all the way out of you. Fuck it the bed would have to wait.

He laid you down on the couch. Standing over you so he could pump in and out of you. Moving his hips in a certain way with your legs around his waist. Going deeper and deeper.

“Chris, Ch-ris! Ah, ah, ah.”

“That’s it.” he groaned. “Say my name. My favorite girl. Gonna love you for fucking ever. You hear me?”

“Uh huh,” you whimpered all breathily. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he groaned. “Gonna marry you. Make you my wife. Only pussy I’m gonna fuck for the rest of my life.” Fuck he couldn’t stop. It’s like the words were spilling from this lips.

All you could do is look at him with teary eyes. Still unable to really say what you wanted as he drives into you. You were his. You were fucking his. And he was going to make sure every fucking person knew that even you.

Eyes rolling to the back of your head again as you came. Pussy clenching around him so tight it triggered his own orgasm. Shooting deep inside of you.

He rode it out. Making sure you were good until he finally picked you up so he could tuck you under the covers. Getting comfortable beside you. Wanting to be close to you. Trying to wrap his head around what he’d confessed while balls deep inside of you. And that he meant every single word.

Spending the rest of the night wrapped up in you. Not letting you go until morning so you could at least get a little sleep. You still had to get up and get to the next venue. All that mattered right now things between you were god. He could figure out the rest later.

#chris evans smut #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x black woman #chris evans x female reader #Chris Evans x popstar!reader