#just disjointed thoughts but i hope you understand

[dumbasssportsboys]

richard siken

#claude giroux #philadelphia flyers #florida panthers #la kings #mike richards #jeff carter #stanley cup playoffs #feeling emotions again and making it everyone's problem #just disjointed thoughts but i hope you understand

[fazedlight]

Awakening (Kara character study, small part supercorp softness)

“But why can’t I be matched to Tali, mom? She’s my best friend!”

Alura turned to Kara, her jaw tensed with frustration with the stubborn child. “Kara, you know better than this. Stable matching can only be achieved if there is a true bijection between disjoint sets-”

“We don’t even have a true bijection because the population is constantly changing, we don’t sort according to all possible preferences, we don’t even have-” “It is not in our nature, Kara,” Alura said, with a dangerous tone in her voice. “We are not Daxamites.”

“But-” 

“The answer is no.”

---

Kara is thirteen Earth years the first time she’s called “dyke.” She doesn’t know what it means. She had only been to school for a couple of weeks. Before that, the only substantial English she had spoken was the couple months with Eliza, Jeremiah, Alex, and Kal. 

Clark, not Kal. Saying “Kal” would put her baby cousin- her older cousin- her cousin in danger.

Alex’s face flushes, and her eyes almost burn with anger, as she shoves Jake Howell against a locker. Kara could do it easily herself, but showing her newfound strength to humans would put her in danger too, somehow. Kara doesn’t think asshole is a nice word, given how Alex growled it. But she suspects dyke isn’t a nice word either.

That night after dinner, Eliza sighs, and hugs Kara gently - and Kara resolves to never get called dyke again.

---

“She’s gorgeous, she’s smart, she smells nice. Hell, I want to date her.” Kara flushed with discomfort, as the words came unbidden from her lips. But Alex didn’t remark on the odd statement, and Kara shoved the thought away.

Just weeks later, awkwardness would turn to tension as Lucy growled. “You and Hank, why do you all lie?”

“When you are an alien,” Kara choked, “You’re willing to sacrifice anything, everything, betray your fundamental instincts - just to fit in.” Something tugged in Kara’s soul at that moment. That she had always tried to fit in, long before she became an alien. But there simply hadn’t been time to linger.

It was only weeks later, when Lucy was saying her goodbyes before leaving National City to rejoin the military, that Kara felt the uncomfortable spike again. “I do know what it’s like to hide,” Lucy confessed.

Kara tilted her head, questions like why? and what do you mean? floating through her mind. But she thought it would be kinder not to ask. “I hope someday, you can be all that you are.”

Lucy gave a small smile. “Me too.”

---

She hadn’t expected meeting Lena to feel like lightning in her veins. The younger Luthor was quick-witted, and beautiful, and playful. Kara felt herself flush with the gentle teasing during their first coffee, and found herself marveling at never quite having a friendship like this before. 

---

“So… so she’s gay?” Kara asked, the word heavy in her throat. “And are you saying, you’re gay too?”

Alex sighed and paced in front of Kara, her frustration just as apparent as her confusion. How can you not know if you’re gay?, Kara wondered, at the same time feeling strangely allergic to the conversation. Wouldn’t it be obvious? “What’s changed?” Kara asked.

---

Yeah, he was… immature. Irresponsible. But they connected - orphans of a lost planet, who spoke the same tongue, who had the same bewilderment in their first moments on an alien planet with newfound powers. And if being in his bed brought her pleasure, it was only proof of their connection, that a good relationship could come of it.

Sometimes there were those flashes - Mon-El had been confused by Alex’s coming out, not understanding the concept. The more the merrier would ring in Kara’s head, and she’d chase away the image of Lena’s face.

---

“I couldn’t have done it, Kara.”

Kara’s chest heaved as she gazed down at Lena, hearing Kal’s words flash through her mind. Lena clung to Kara’s arm as Kara hovered above the reservoir, and some corner of Kara’s mind knew that she should go land, that the danger was over. That Lena was safe. That the city was safe.

But she could only stare down at Lena, whose heart hammered in her chest, whose panting breaths from her climb had not yet slowed. I almost lost her, Kara thought, forlorn. I couldn’t lose her…

It was that moment that her world came crashing down, that realization made her feel like she was drowning. That romantic love wasn’t merely a combination of friendship and lust. That shared experience didn’t mean a shared connection. There was something that ran deeper.

She was in love with Lena, and she could no longer deny it.

---

It was a drunken movie night, after Lena’s breakup with James, when Kara heard I love you fall from Lena's lips.

“It was always you,” Lena confessed, her words slightly slurred from the alcohol as Kara finished pulling the covers over her. “I just wanted to be close to you.”

Kara stood back, feeling her heart pound as she watched Lena slip into slumber. I wish I had told you, Kara thought, her mind flashing to a moment long ago in a forest. I wish I had told you, before…

Kara spent a fitful night trying to sleep on her couch, and Lena’s eyes flashed with shame the next morning as she woke. But they left for Noonan’s, leaving the conversation behind.

---

It felt impossibly brief, that window of time after Kara had revealed her secret, where everything felt almost right with the world. Maybe someday, she and Lena could finish that conversation.

But she found herself in a kryptonite shell.

The universe ended soon after, and even magic couldn’t fix how they had broken. Until the day Kara finally found her hands in Lena’s, vowing together to take down her brother, and Kara felt again that hopeful wonder of what a future with Lena could hold.

And then she found herself in the Phantom Zone again, the words ringing in her head, I wish I had told you.

---

Sleep had eluded Kara in the weeks back from the Phantom Zone. So she was already wide awake at 2am, when she heard Lena’s heart begin to hammer. 

Kara tensed, rushing to her window and ears tuning in as she prepared to fight off an assassination attempt or catch Lena as she fell.

But as she shot into the sky, she nearly tumbled when she realized that Lena wasn’t in distress. The shaky breaths and small laughs caused Kara’s chest to tighten in anguish. She’s fine, Kara thought, feeling tears prick the edges of her vision. She’s fine. 

---

“Are you okay?” Lena said, when she finally found Kara in the Tower, sitting on a step. “Alex said she couldn’t find you - you were in the Fortress?”

Kara glanced up from the steps. “I just, um. I was reading in the Fortress, I fell asleep there.” It had the benefit of being true. The Fortress was far enough to drown the sound of Lena’s heart out.

Lena shuffled next to Kara, taking a seat. “I don’t remember seeing any beds there.”

“I float in my sleep,” Kara shrugged, staring at her hands as she let silence fall.

Lena shifted, uncomfortable with the quiet. “Are you okay?”

Yeah, Kara almost said, but something stopped her this time. Perhaps it was the poor sleep. Perhaps it was the litany of I wish I had told you that would replay in her mind.

How many more times am I going to do this?, Kara thought. How many more times am I going to carry that regret? “I love you,” Kara said finally, sensing Lena tense up next to her. “I know… I know that door is closed. But I love you. I should’ve told you so long ago.”

“You… you heard me last night,” Lena wondered softly. “So you went to the Fortress?”

Kara grimaced. “I stopped listening as soon as I realized,” Kara said, fighting a panic. Will she be angry? “I never meant to- to invade your privacy. I’ll be more careful.”

“The door isn’t closed,” Lena said. “If you don’t want it to be.”

Those words made Kara brave enough - or maybe just confused enough - to finally tilt her head up to meet Lena’s gaze. “But- last night-”

“I’ve been trying to get over you. Not very successfully,” Lena added, with a wry grin.

“Really?” Kara smiled.

“Really.” 

---

The matching laws had been long dismantled by the time a smiling Alura officiated their marital rites. Kryptonians didn’t have concepts like best man or matron of honor, but that didn’t stop the two women from inviting Alex and Kelly to stand at each of their sides as they said their vows.

Kara never imagined that it’d be a woman’s wrist she’d place her wedding bracelet on. Though she supposed she never imagined marrying on an asteroid of her father’s creation, or marrying for romantic love, or marrying someone her people would call Hero of Argo for the creation of a black rock.

She never imagined finally telling Lena her secret. She never imagined Lena’s forgiveness. She never imagined the feel of Lena’s lips pressed against her own, hands tugging at her robes, as she whispered zhao against Lena’s lips.

And she never imagined being the one to make Lena’s heart race.

#I deleted this WIP a minimum of 3 times before it finally became a thing #supercorp #mel writes ficlets

[pedgito]

Hii omg i just discovered you account and I’m obsessed with you writing 🖤

I have a request if that’s okay

Something like reader has this big crush (kinda obsession lol) with Eddie she’s always looking at him, going to the Hideout every tuesday to watch him perform and buys him weed but she doesn’t actually smokes and eddie notices that and thinks is cute so, so when she meets him in the woods to buy weed eddies like “i know you aint smoking that, why dont you tell me what you really want from me? Why dont you just ask me yo fuck you” or something like that 😩

author’s note: full disclaimer, i'm so sleep deprived on nyquil from how sick i've been, so this will either be really good smut, or complete disjointed and all over the place, either way, i hope it's not too horrible lol

cw: 18+ (minors dni), pining!reader (but also eddie too), god complex!eddie (if you squint) fingering/sex in the back of his van, lots of teasing, protected sex!! (i know, such a shocker coming from me), i'm probably missing something so just lmk!

word count: 5k

You didn’t think it was the best idea, but it made the most sense. Buy the weed, talk to Eddie, offer it up to some stoner willing to pay the same price—it had been seamless, almost too easy, and Eddie never seemed to question it either, despite the fact that you were as clean-cut and proper as it got, you’ve never been around anyone while they were smoking weed, let alone do it yourself. The prospect was terrifying, fear that you might lose control over your body and thoughts, end up being one of the people that experienced terrible highs—so you steered clear of actually trying it for yourself. Besides, it was the only excuse it gave you to talk to Eddie.

It wasn’t that he fully ignored you—you still had classes together, passed each other in the hall on occasion, but you both ran in completely different groups, which didn't leave much room to get to know each other or even have a normal conversation. 

You wouldn’t call it obsession, either—because Eddie seemed as intrigued to talk to you as you were to him—you were an enigma he couldn’t figure out, so many mysteries wrapped up into one, he was dying to figure you out. And sometimes your friends like to sneak over to The Hideout, it’s not the first, second, or even third choice of hangout spots on your list—but Eddie performs weekly, every Tuesday night, it was a highlight of what was usually a very dreary, miserable day. You tried hard not to be noticed, always shoving yourself in the furthest corner of the bar, the lights dimmer near the back, which helped obscure your face—though Eddie, he spotted you the moment you walked in, every time, but you didn’t need to know that. 

It goes on for weeks, nearly three months into the beginning of your senior year—and Eddie’s third go at it, until he feels the itch, the nerve, just to say something. He doesn’t really know what to expect of it, but he’s curious. Eddie doesn’t understand why you’re always so skittish or nervous around him, keeping a few feet away, but staring at him like there was nothing more important on your mind—you had the prettiest smile, which Eddie had been on the receiving end of more than a few times. He just wanted to know more about you—and why you thought buying weed from him was your only option; frankly, you were taking away from his business in some form, buying a hefty amount with no real use, he could’ve been dragging in new customers with that merchandise, but you disposed of it like nothing. Eddie was challenged in some form, unable to focus and pass his classes like the rest of his classmates, but he wasn’t dumb—you didn’t reek of weed, not like most of the people he sold to, you always agreed with what he offered, never arguing on price or strains—you had no idea what you were doing, it was so blatantly obvious. Eddie tried to play it off as long as he could, but it hit him one day—nestled on the edge of the picnic table, feet dangling just above the freshly fallen leaves, the dried foliage cracking beneath your feet.

“I’m gonna have to start giving you discounts,” Eddie comments jokingly, a slight hint of teasing in his voice as passes you the small sandwich sized bag of weed, dangling it in front of you, “you’re drilling through my product with these weekly meetups.”

“Sorry,” You reply lamely, grabbing the baggie and shoving it into your pocket quickly, shoving your other hand into the pocket to match, yanking your jacket over your middle as you talked to him, insecure of his openly he looked at you—it was like he could see right through you, “I guess I can buy less, if it’s really a problem.”

“No, no,” Eddie stammers, hands shaking out in front of him, he turns around to fiddle with the items in his chest—a mess of different items: papers for rolling, more weed, a lighter, and a fat wad of cash. You were completely out of your element with him, all the time, “—you know, since you’re such a loyal customer, I was thinking—“

“What?” You reply eagerly, forgetting self control for a moment, face blushing a deep red, cheeks burning like you’d just stood over a fire.

Eddie laughs softly, reaching in to pull a joint between his fingers—new and untouched. He’s got a look on his face, like he’s about to engage in a dangerous game, ready to pull you down with him. It’s terrifying, but you’re nearly on your tiptoes now, shifting awkwardly in the silence—maybe you should run. 

Instead, you stay, “I was gonna offer you a freebie.” Eddie admits, placing the joint between his soft, pink lips, flicking at the lighter with difficulty—he hits the bottom a few times, still nothing. The calluses on his fingers were a pain in the ass and he wants to put you on the spot, seeing if you crack under the pressure. It’s the perfect opportunity. “Do you mind?” He asks, voice muffled around the joint in his mouth.

You nod hesitantly, pulling the lighter from his grip gently—it wasn’t the first time you’ve ever held a lighter, you weren’t that clueless, but to try and think of a way out of this situation, it seemed impossible. You flick the lighter a few times, the flame finally coming to life, Eddie leans forward slowly, letting the end burn until it smokes, inhaling quickly. You make a subtle move back, pressing the lighter into his hand. You squint, the haze of smoke hitting your face. It makes your eyes water and your nose burn, you hate it. The appeal was never apparent to you—and you didn’t judge Eddie, but it always seemed so pointless to you, throwing away money for a temporary high. 

“Here,” Eddie says roughly, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment, breathing out as you took the joint from his fingers, “—it’s good shit, I promise.”

You pluck it delicately, held between your thumb and pointer finger—it’s so close, maybe you could just fake it, but now Eddie’s staring at you, waiting. You’re scrambling for a reason to weasel your way out of this. 

“I, uh—I can’t, Eddie.” You tell him softly, passing the joint his way, “My parents will know, I can’t just go home smelling like that.”

He stifles the laugh at your choice of words, the irony so relevant.

“I can smell the weed I gave you from your pocket,” Eddie points out, “how do you explain that?”

“I leave it in my bag—and then I move it, I don’t keep it in the house.” You explain weakly. Your heart is hammering in your chest, the sound of blood rushing and pounding in your ears. 

“How often do you smoke then?” Eddie asks curiously, trying to seem less abrasive with his questions. He wants to catch you in your lie, but he doesn’t want to scare you away.

He’s always been intrigued with, infatuated—he didn’t want you running in the other direction. 

You didn’t know what sounded believable, so you settled on, “Uh—every other day, sometimes twice on the weekends.”

That bag was enough weed to last anyone a month, as long as they didn’t overindulge. Eddie pushed in further, pointing out the slight inconsistency.

“Oh—because I usually only give that much to the real, real heavy smokers—they smoke at least twice a day, every day, and it still takes them a couple weeks to move through that much product.”

And if you heart couldn’t physically drop to your stomach, it still definitely felt like it.

“Uh, it’s—uh,” You try desperately to recover, “I share with friends too, so it goes pretty quick.”

“Aren’t you generous?” Eddie teases, having smoked through nearly half the joint by now, “Your nerdy little friends? The one’s in that book club?”

It was a soft jab, a pot calling the kettle black.

“It’s not nerdy,” You defend passionately, “you literally play D&D. That’s not fair.”

The squeak in your voice has Eddie smiling behind the joint, appreciating just how fiery you could be. 

“Why do you even care?” You ask, frustrated with him, it felt like he was picking on you for no reason. 

Eddie sighs softly, “I’m sorry—I’m sorry,” He stresses out, hoping you’ll relax, he sees your shoulders settle and takes that as a sign, “I’m just trying to figure you out—we talk a lot in passing, but I barely know you.”

It’s all your fault, your shyness, your innate fear of being caught in your lies—they were harmless, but it still felt wrong.

“It’s okay.” You tell him quietly, hands fisted in your pockets in tight balls of frustration. 

Eddie laughs to himself, nodding for you to take a seat on the bench, you're hesitant but listen anyways, taking whatever bait he is offering. If you weren’t going to fess up, Eddie was going to drop his knowledge of it to you and wait for your reaction—it could go horribly, but it was worth the risk. It wasn't like he couldn’t notice the way stared at his lips every time he took a drag from the joint, or how he licked his chapped lips frequently, chewed at his bottom one out of habit; you were mesmerized. 

“I wanna show you something,” He explains, squeezing in beside you, the rough material of his jeans rubbing against the outside of your leg, the prickle of the wood digging into your thighs where your dress didn’t cover, he grabs his supplies and sets the rolling paper out, a small bagging already ground up weed that was ready to go, and makes a small motion with his hand, “but I wanna see how well you do it first.”

“Eddie—“ You panic, glancing between him and the items in front of you. You didn’t have the slightest clue how to roll a joint, you wouldn’t even know where to start, Eddie looks at you pointedly, eyebrows raised slightly in question, “—I, uh—“

Eddie moves silently, grabbing the supplies for himself, working quickly and expertly, like he’d done it a million times. It’s surprisingly fascinating, eyes locked on his tongue as it pokes out to seal the paper together, his eyes flicking to your momentarily.

He set it down gently, hand curled up on the table as he looked at you, other hand resting against his thigh, he fiddled with his rings with the pad of his thumb, letting the silence linger for a moment.

Then finally, “You've never smoked before,” Eddie deduces, smirk crawling up his face, “have you?”

You shake your head slightly in defeat, his fingers curl against the denim, he is desperately holding back, your wide eyes staring up at him. 

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to buy weed to talk to me.”

And if you weren’t dying of embarrassment before, you were now.

“That’s—that’s not,” You fumble with your words, trying to find some kind of remark or comeback, or just explain yourself—nothing ever comes.

“What’s the real reason?” Eddie’s turned toward you now, leg swung over the bench so he’s straddling it, facing you’re curled in body, still struggling to keep your distance, jacket hugged right around your midsection. 

“My friend’s are scared of you,” You admit, eyes turned down toward the table, “—I had to find a way to talk to you without seeming obvious.”

Oh, it was very obvious. Eddie doesn’t want to strike you while you’re down though, so he keeps that to himself. 

“So, you like me?” He teases, nudging your arm with the soft touch of his knuckle, smiling sweetly at you. If your heart wasn’t already pounding out of your chest, it was definitely going to burst if he kept looking at you like that. 

You shrug indifferently—you weren’t sure of what your feelings were; curiosity, yes—the idea of trying not to obtain something seemed impossible, it was intriguing, to say the least, and it wasn’t like you were immune to all the rumors about Eddie. People constantly talked about him around school—either hateful or downright rude, but there were a few that talked about him like he was god personified—you wouldn’t necessarily call yourself religious, but it wasn’t going to stop you from finding out how true those rumors were.

“Like is a strong word,” You laugh slightly, crossing your left leg over your right, shoes shifting together under the table. You felt a few raindrops hit your shoulder, pulling you both from the intense conversation, “—I should probably go.”

“Wait—“ Eddie stops you, grasping the wrist of the hand that was still shoved firmly in your pocket, “—don’t go.”

And against every fiber of your being, you nod, letting him lead you down a path you weren’t sure you’d be able to feel remorse over.

“Why do you park so far away from the school?” You ask randomly, letting him drag you along the way, feet desperate to keep up with his wide strides. 

“Principal Higgins would skin my ass if he found out I was smoking on campus in the mornings,” Eddie explains, glancing back at your briefly as he reaches to open the rear of his van, giving you a full view of the back—it was surprisingly unmessy, aside from a few empty cans of beer and some suspiciously wadding up pieces of tissues and magazine pages, it wasn’t unwelcome—though, it reeked of weed and cigarettes, “—well, here’s my home away from home—trailer, whatever.”

Your parents would surely kill you if you went home smelling like either of those. 

Eddie leans inside, allowing you to crawl underneath the bridge his arm made, pointedly avoiding the opportunity for him to look up your dress, turning on your backside to scoot in beneath him—he looks mostly unphased, maybe you were reading into this too much. It could just be an innocent gesture to get to know you, altering motives aside—not that you would mind; you were hoping for it, selfishly enough.

You strip off your jacket once you’re seated, feet crossed out in front of you as you lay your jacket over your lap. Eddie closes the doors with a rough tug, nearly knocking himself on his ass, before finally taking a seat across from you, let’s outstretched around your own, one foot planted against the floorboard to allow him to rest a hand on his knee. 

“So—what did you want to—“ You start, quickly interrupted by Eddie motioning you over, you hesitate for a moment, debating whether or not it was worth it—your body moves on its own accord though, pushing up with your fingertips until you’re crawling toward him, breast peeking through the fabric that hung down. Eddie didn’t avert his gaze, though you’re almost positive his eyes are solely locked in yours, heated and intense as he stared you down, face still holding every bit of its softness.

You shift to sit beside him, but his hand comes up to stop you, “Come here,” His voice is soft, pleasing—like he knows what you want, it’s exactly what he needs, he’s more than willing to give you whatever you were hoping for, “right here.” He instructs, watching as you hesitantly swung your leg over his thigh, his left shifting down to accommodate room for you, the back of your thighs settling against the top of his, dress flowing out over his jeans, covering all the rips and holes that showed off his pale skin.

Eddie’s hands slip over the fabric of your dress gently, testing his boundaries, still holding his gaze on your face, “Why don’t you tell me what you really want?” He asks with a hint of knowing to his voice—he just wanted to hear you say it. “No more lies—or buying weed off of me for no reason.”

You put petulantly, shoulders falling slack as you watched his hands travel further up your dress, settling on your waist, the heat of his hands seeping through the thin cotton material, he squeezed gently, you gasped, “I’ve heard…things.” It’s a lame response, but it’s all you can manage.

“Things?” Eddie mocks, fingers coming around to fiddle with the tie on your dress, only lingering and never pulling, he wouldn’t take that step unless you allowed him.

“Girls talk about—you—and how good you are at,” His ringed fingers slip under the string, pulling against the strings, “stuff—like, with sex and all that.”

Eddie chuckles darkly, pulling a hand away to tilt your head up to look at him, rubbing tenderly at the skin of your jaw, “Sweetheart, if you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was ask.”

If only it were that easy—you’d never be bold enough to say it, not without a heavy amount of coercion, and a lot of teasing, it seemed pathetic to say it so simply—part of you enjoyed the game he was playing at. 

“I’m not like that,” You confess, “—too scared.”

Eddie nods slightly, “Too shy,” He notes, thumb dragging along your pursed lips, pulling them apart gently, “that’s okay.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” You laugh nervously, “I still—still think you’re really cute,” You admit, “and you’re so nice to me—“

“An adorable girl who buys all my weed and will do anything to talk to me?” Eddie asks redundantly, “I’d be stupid not to be.”

Eddie takes a moment, breaking the heated facade, “Say—what have you been doing with all the weed?”

You wonder if you should lie, deciding if it’s worth confessing over—but it seemed like everything was already being laid bare, “Uh, this guy—his name is Rick. I sold it to him really cheap, I just wanted to get rid of it.”

“Rick?” Eddie questions like he wants you to elaborate.

“Always smells like weed, looks kinda homeless—he hangs out behind the Rec center near my house.” You tell him honestly, and Eddie can feel the proverbial light bulb switching on in his head.

“You’re selling weed back to Reefer Rick?” He asks with a slight hint of incredulousness in his voice—it bordered on betrayal.

“I—I don’t know who he is!” You say defensively, “He didn’t seem sketchy or anything—did I do something wrong?”

“No—it’s just—“ Eddie laughs at the ridiculousness of it all, “—I’m not selling you anymore weed, sweetheart.”

“That’s fair,” You say on a small sigh, “stuff is gross anyways.”

“And you’re sitting on the lap of Hawkins second biggest pothead,” Eddie challenges, “so what does that say about you?”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t try you,” You reply boldly, voice still too soft and innocent, “—it’s not the same, you know.”

Eddie pulls his bottom lip between his teeth slowly, like he’s struggling to hold off whatever is eating at him, eyes half lidded and staring straight through you. 

“Tell me what you want.” Eddie demands slowly, other hand joining your face, adjusting your head until it’s locked between his grip, assuring you tell him directly rather than to your lap.

“I want you to touch me.” You admit shyly, his face pulling up in a smile

“I am touching you.” He points out; the smartass he’s known to be. “Show me.”

Shaky hands pull at his fingers, curling around his open palm until his hand is settled under your dress, pressed against the sticky, wet material of your underwear—there is no reason to feel shame now, not with the full grin that spreads across his face.

“I knew it.” He snarls, fingers rubbing soft circles into the material, the cold press of the fabric making you squirm, “How long?”

“How long?” You repeat, confused at his questioning.

“Since you’ve been touched.” He clarifies.

“A few months,” You tell him, “I had this thing back in the summer—whatever, it doesn’t really matter—“

Eddie laughs at you rambling, an attempt to settle your rattled nerves. “It’s fine—I was just gonna say you’re really wet—I’ve never, never touched a girl for the first time and had it feel like that,” He tells you honestly, “it takes time—god, can’t believe I could’ve had you all this time.”

“All this time?” 

“You really think it was all one-sided?” Eddie asks, “Sweetheart—I’ve known for weeks that you weren’t smoking that weed.”

“I guess I wasn’t very smart about it.”

Eddie shakes his head in amusement, “Doesn’t matter—we’re here now. Can I touch you?”

“You are.”

“Not how I want to.”

Your eyes widen at his admission, nodding shakily in response. His hand slipped under the fabric of your panties, one large finger running down your folds, ghosting over your already sensitive clit, dipping his finger inside of you instantly, a sharp gasp ripping from your chest as you gripped his shoulders, leaning forward slightly at the sudden intrusion.

Eddie looks up at you, your mouth hanging open slightly as he works his finger inside of you slowly, “Can I?” He asks, mouth parted slightly as he looks down toward your breasts, soft skin peeking out the top of your dress.

You nod fervently, exasperated by his constant polite questioning. “Eddie—stop asking, just do it.”

“Just wanna be sure.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want it—all of it.” You tell him honestly, “Plus, it’s ruining the whole—thing everyone says about you.”

“Thing?” He laughs softly, mouthing over your breasts.

“They—they say you’re like—I don’t know,” You feign the importance of it, it doesn’t really matter, “that you’re a god—with, you know.”

“A god?” Eddie teases, testing the word on his tongue, taking a small nip at your chest, your breath catching, “You think I’m a god?”

“Not me,” You shake your head, “it’s just what I’ve heard.”

“But, I’m sure you thought about it—so be honest with me.”

You sigh, shoving his face against your breasts to muffle his endless rant, “Jury’s still out—we’ll see.”

Eddie hums against your skin, dragging his tongue through the valley of your breasts, somehow having worked another finger inside you without you noticing, so caught in staring at his mouth that it’s an afterthought, but then he’s curling his fingers and you can’t do anything but moan, head falling back in anguish, your stomach tightening at the sensation.

“Condoms?” Eddie asks hopefully, he could feel his cock straining painfully against the line of his zipper, he was sure you felt it too, he wanted nothing more than to relieve that ache. 

“Oh, fuck—no, I don’t have any.” You say with deep regret, wishing you had thought ahead, had some type of courage that you could turn things into more, but no—and now here you were. 

“Wait—“ Eddie yelps, pulling back from your chest, “—passenger side, under the dash,” He points in that direction, removing his hand gently to allow you to scramble toward the front of the van, yanking open the compartment to find two dust covered foil packets.

“God—these things have to be a hundred years old,” You complain, grabbing at the items and returning to Eddie, tossing them into his lap, “are we sure that’s safe?”

Eddie takes a hesitant look, nodding gleefully as he reads the black print, “Thank god—they’re still good for a few months.” You look at him with narrowed eyes, wondering why he had such a decrepitated pair stashed away.

“We got them during one of those safe sex classes,” He says defensively, “better safe than tied down with a kid, right?”

He had a point—plus, you were more than eager to move things along.

You reach for the tie of your dress, struggling to find the string at this ankle, Eddie noticed, “Hey, don’t worry about—“ He says soothingly, “just take your underwear off—they’re already soaked to nothing anyways.”

“God—shut up,” You reply lightheartedly, stripping yourself of the garment before returning to his lap, watching as he pulled himself out of his pants in hurry, red leaking tip screaming for relief, holding the shaft firmly in his hand while he ripped at the foil with his teeth, grabbing the rubber and throwing the trash to the side.

“Wait—“ You interrupt, pointing at the condom in between his teeth, “can I?”

Normally he’d find it weird, but it was the ultimate turn on when it came from you—curious hands and curious minds, he couldn’t deny you that.

“I’ve just—never,” Most guys refused to wear condoms, so it was kind of fascinating, “—forget it.”

“Oh—of course,” He obliged, handing the protection over to you, watching as you slowly rolled the latex over his tip, down his shaft, until it stopped near the base, fingertips brushing through his curls faintly, “—I always wear one, I don’t see why guys complain about it. It really doesn’t make a difference.”

You laugh softly, “Well, aren’t you a gentleman?”

“A godly gentleman, I hope.”

Your smirk softly, guiding your hips over his own, letting him rub his wide, aching tip through your folds, gathering up some of your slick before slipping in slowly, allowing you to adjust to the girth of him. You let out a quiet sigh, hips rocking slightly as you forced him deeper and deeper, a collective groan from the both of you when he was fully seated inside you.

“Let me untie your dress,” Eddie practically begs, yearning for the sight of your bare breasts and soft stomach as he fucked into you, wanting to see your body shift with every movement, “yeah?”

You nod, arms coming to wrap around his neck as you shifted your hips slightly, small lifted motions as you moved against his dick, Eddie muffled the groans in the alcove of your neck, fumbling with the tie until the dress fell loose, pooling at your hips.

“There we go.” He sighs in relief, pulling at your arms until they’re resting at your side, giving him the perfect view of you, so wound up and panting for relief, hair askew and in your face, much like his own. “Touch yourself, sweetheart.”

It wasn’t a new concept, you did it often—just never in the presence of others. But, Eddie sent a surge of confidence through you, something completely unexpected. Your fingertips dragging against the skin gently, body breaking out in goosebumps at the sensation, you squeeze at your breasts, receiving a small grunt from Eddie as he thrust into your harder, eyes locked on you, alternating between your working hands and exasperated face. 

“Fuck—I thought you were so innocent,” He laughs warmly, hands gripping at your hips, thumbs digging into the curve of the bone settled their, rocking you in time with his eager thrusts, forceful and totally in control, “guess I was wrong.”

“Surprise.” You mock breathlessly, the soft mounds of flesh squeezed gently between your hands, thumbs rubbing over the hardened buds testingly—you’ve never been super responsive, but then Eddie is reaching his tongue out, following the drag of your thumb, and that concept flies completely out of the window.

“You gonna come on my dick?” He asks teasingly, mouthing at the undersized of your breasts, “—think you can come without me touching you, sweetheart?”

You shake your head in a hurry, the thought was like torture, but Eddie doesn’t budge, removing his hands from you fully, resting against the side of his van, arms outstretched at his side. You stop for a moment, frustrated.

“That’s not fair.” You pout slightly, earning an amused laugh from Eddie.

“If you want it so bad—you’ll get what you need,” Eddie tells you, his thighs nudging your hips forward slightly, causing him to slip even deeper, “take what you need, okay?”

You look at him with a heated gaze, lust and anger laced together, “Lay down.” You order, watching as he shifts eagerly, allowing you full room to stretch your hands over his chest as he lays back, giving you the perfect amount of space to lose yourself, rocking your hips at a pace that has Eddie choking on air, palms pressed firmly against the material of his shirt, gripping slightly for assistance. 

“Fuck—okay,” Eddie pants, meeting your thrust with fervor, “I see how it is—shit, please tell me your close.”

“So close,” You whine, “God—so fucking close.”

Eddie makes a noise, “Mmm, not god, sweetheart.”

“Fuck off.” You laugh through baited breath, mouth hung open on a wordless gasp as he thrust into your harshly, hitting a spot so deep that you’re curling forward at the suddenness, nearly coming then, but you try to hang on, “Eddie—-shit—“

“It’s alright.” He nods, hair messy and bangs stuck to his forehead with sweat, rubbing your thighs tenderly, letting you rock your hips with such an intensity that he can’t hold back any longer, coming almost immediately after you, both of your desperate gasps of pleasure mixing together, cunt clenching tightly around him as you came, almost completely untouched—it was intense and visceral and like nothing you’ve ever felt. Eddie pants loudly, letting out a sudden laugh when you finally lock eyes.

“Oh, don’t look so smug.” You chide, shoving at him gently. 

Eddie doesn’t respond, leaning up to kiss you without warning, you make a noise of surprise, not offended in the slightest, but deeply caught off guard. Eddie pulls away slowly, staring at you hesitantly.

“That felt overdue, I’m sorry.” Eddie apologizes.

He doesn’t expect you to return the same eagerness, nearly toppling him back, lips pressed against him with all the energy and feeling you could muster, indulging in the simple act of kissing him. You’ve never experienced anything this special; so raw and real, it was exhilarating. 

Eddie slips out of you gently, tying up the condom and disposing of it in the front of his van, a small trash can nestled underneath the dash—it was filled to the brim already, which wasn’t surprising. You dress quickly, watching as Eddie shifted and tucked himself back inside his jeans quietly, eyes lingering on you the entire time. 

“No more excuses, okay?” Eddie says, “I get it if you don’t want to be seen with me at school—I can live with that, but seriously—I like you.”

You smile sweetly, tugging at your jacket pocket until it falls open, “I like you too, Eddie.” You find the bag of weed with ease, tossing it in his direction. “Keep the money, I don’t need it.”

Eddie catches it with one hand, “Same time next week then?”

You nod eagerly, leaning up to press a chaste kiss against his cheek, “Don’t be late.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #my writing #1kfic

[whatthefoucault]

Ok no but hear me out, because what if, before Stede and the gang make it back to Ed and them on the ship to get the band back together, Ed finds out that in the intervening, like, couple of days, Stede “died” in the most absurdly dramatic way possible, and just sort of finds his way on sadness-autopilot to the Bonnet home, looking for, what, closure? Just to be where this man he loved so much came from and maybe, in some disjointed and incomplete way feel near him again, despite everything? And Mary’s there, clutching a sharp object behind her back and she’s like oh no a vaguely threatening crime man what are you doing here wait why are you crying and Ed’s like, I was... a friend of Stede’s, I think, and Mary’s stance softens, and she lets him in and makes a cup of tea.

And she explains as po-faced as one can “exactly” what happened, and they sit there awkwardly in the Bonnet front room, not having much to say to each other, and Ed takes in their surroundings, unchanged enough presumably from when Stede lived there to be both a visceral reminder of all of the wonderful things he was, and also a fierce indicator of why he chose to leave.

“Nice house,” he tells her, trying to remember the rules of small talk. “Did you... paint that?”

He points at a large canvas that now hangs over the sideboard of what looks to be a very detailed close-up of some flowers.

“I did, actually,” she says. “A couple of weeks ago. It’s - ”

“A lily,” Ed suggests.

“A vagina,” Mary says, at the same time.

and Ed nods, unsure how to follow on from that. Mary gives him an apologetic smile.

“So I guess you two were close friends?”

“I think so,” Ed tells her cautiously, not about to bare his entire soul and the deep, devastating love he holds for Stede to the man’s widow, for fuck’s sake.

“Well, he’s in a better place now,” Mary assures him. “He’s free.”

And with that, the tears are back, and despite himself Ed’s shaking and ugly-sobbing, and Mary begins to reach a hand out to give him a pat on the shoulder, but thinks better of it and just offers him a hankie instead.

And Ed’s emotions are catching up with his brain, but now his thoughts are too fast and too all at once to word them properly, but he’s trying anyway despite himself. “We were - I was going to - and then he, I thought, but - but then - ” he manages between sobs.

And Mary is given pause. Wait a minute, she thinks, as it slowly dawns on her. Why would it mean this much to this guy, unless

“Sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Uhh, it’s Ed?”

And she lights up. He isn’t exactly who she would have expected, all goth and intimidating and stuff, but she also doesn’t know what she did expect. But on the other hand, if this is Stede’s Ed, then

“You’re Ed? Shit, what are you doing here? Stede’s going to be looking for you.”

Which makes no sense to Ed now, because “But Stede’s - you mean he’s a ghost?”

And she leans in with a conspiratorial smile. “Okay look, I obviously couldn’t tell just any old friend, but you’re Ed. It was, what did he call it? A fuckery?”

And Ed understands, he thinks, hopeful. “You mean... he’s...”

And Mary laughs. “No, he’s fine,” she tells him. “Staged the whole thing. It was brilliant! He’s gonna be out there looking for you right now.”

And Ed’s whole body melts with relief, pooling in the deep cushions of the velvet settee. There are too many emotions rattling through his body at once. edwardteach.exe has stopped working

“He's? Wait, how do you - no, doesn’t matter. No, yes it does. You've heard of me?”

And Mary’s like, “I know my ex-husband loves you very much.”

And Ed’s like

But wait, she’s cool with him just fucking off with another fellow, he thinks? And she explains that their marriage sucked and she’s fucking thriving and she’s genuinely happy he’s happy.

And after a few more biscuits, now that the mood has lightened considerably, she sends Ed on his merry way to go smooch her ex-husband probably. They’ve still got some shit to talk through together, and he’s going to hug that stupid brilliant man SO HARD and he’s still not sure what his emotions are doing, and he doesn’t know where he’s going, but he’s, like, so gay for Stede right now oh my god that absolute fucking human treasure ughhhhhhhhhh FEELINGS

And Doug comes in a few minutes later looking Terribly Concerned, as Mary’s brushing biscuit crumbs off the coffee table, and he’s like “Mary, are you ok? I saw a vaguely threatening man leave just now. He looked just like Blackbeard???”

And Mary’s like he

WHAT

#ofmd #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #edward teach #mary bonnet #our flag means death #doug is there also #this is terrible but it wouldn't leave my head until i wrote it down #sorry

[agustdiv1ne]

hey ash! soft hours idea i just had: you, beomgyu's best friend, takes his guitar and asks him to teach you to play something in a lazy afternoon. he oh so patiently teaches you how to play the beggining of a classic rock song and when you finally get it and play it right he blurts out how hes been in love with you... for like a decade.

(im melting

SAM YOUR MIND>>>>> i'm gonna disintegrate this is so adorable

god, just imagine: you're laying on beomgyu's bed one lazy afternoon, the weather outside is cool and soft gray clouds paint the sky, the soft pitter patter of rain mixing with the show that he had turned on earlier. the room feels comfortable, warm, cozy; you think that these words can be used to describe beomgyu, too.

speaking of the boy, he's laying right next to you, the warmth of his thigh seeps into your bare skin as the both of you relax against the bed's headboard, his fingers mindlessly playing with your own his screen-strained eyes stare at the television. shooing the butterflies in your stomach away, you tap his palm to grab his attention. his gaze slides over to you in an instant.

"'m bored," you pout. his nose scrunches up before he's asking you what you want to do, then, if he's just so boring to be around. you roll your eyes at his dramatics, but mull over the question for a moment. what do you want to do?

your eyes trail over to the acoustic guitar that is propped up in the corner of the room. "can you teach me how to play something?"

at first, he thinks you mean a video game, a taunt on the tip of his tongue about how you suck at them, until he follows your line of sight to his beloved instrument. his heart softens a little.

"yeah, sure," he responds while he gets up to fetch it. he sits back down with the guitar set in his lap. you shift so your body completely faces him and watch as he fiddles with the tuning pegs, strumming and adjusting the tensions until it sounds about right to his ears. he peers back up at you once he's satisfied. with a dramatic strum, he announces, "i'll teach you something easy 'cause you're a noob."

you slap his knee in retaliation. "i hope you choke."

"you shouldn't be saying that to your one and only guitar teacher," he smirks. "i could just not teach you. in fact, i'll just go back to watching my show-"

"fine, sorry," you concede, even though you know he wouldn't do that to you, not really.

thus, beomgyu's guitar class commences. he places the guitar in your lap. as he helps you with the finger placements for each chord, fingers gently covering yours, he hums under his breath. the first notes you pluck out are clunky and disjointed, and the tempo is wildly off, miles too slow for it to actually sound anything like the original song. the air seems to shift as he continues to guide you through the intro of the song; he's not cracking the usual jokes at your expense, and — while it might just be your imagination running wild, searching for things that are not really there — he seems to be leaning closer than what is normal for friends.

he works with you for over an hour. you push away those absurd thoughts all the while.

"alright," he says once he deems you ready, leaning back on his palms. "now try playing the full thing."

there's this furrow in your brow as you focus on the strings with the utmost concentration, ensuring that you're playing the right chords with the correct picking, until you successfully play the intro to pink floyd's wish you were here. with a final strum, you look up at beomgyu with a wide grin, and you just seem so happy and excited and proud of yourself that beomgyu just can't help himself-

"i love you," he blurts out. you tilt your head, and regret immediately curls around his chest.

"i love you, too? we're best friends," you respond, unsure what else to say. when he deflates, you continue, worried. "where is this coming from?"

"i don't think you understand."

"beomgyu," you sigh. "if you're gonna be vague about it, then i never will."

"fuck, um." beomgyu is nervous. gone is the typically confident boy, now fiddling his fingers and unable to look directly at you. "i love you. i've loved you for years, now, i think."

stunned, you gape at him, and he takes your silence as rejection, laughing humorlessly. "i shouldn't have said anything. i'm sorry."

shaking yourself from your stupor, you carefully place the instrument still in your lap on the comforter before shifting forward. your knees knock against his as you bring a hand up to cup his jaw. "you never let me respond, idiot."

he finally looks at you, and you send him a gentle, close-lipped smile. "if you hadn't jumped to conclusions so quickly, you would already know that i love you, too."

his eyes light up. "wait, for real? how long?"

"a really long time, probably since we were, like, fourteen," you mumble and your hand retracts, slightly embarrassed. "i didn't accept it 'til a few years ago, though."

"ah!" he exclaims, causing you to jump a little at the volume of his voice. he seems to be back to his normal self, which is confirmed when he starts poking you forehead and excitedly exclaiming, "i beat you! i've known since we were eleven. see, no one can ever beat me, i'm just that good at everyth-"

not without a playful roll of your eyes, you lean forward and capture your lips with his, effectively shutting him up. the kiss is brief and his lips are a bit dry, but your heart pounds nonetheless. when you pull away, there's these dopey smiles on both of your faces. he's staring at you in a way that you've seen several instances before, but never knew what it meant — you know now, what that unique glint in his eyes, the quirk of his lips mean.

"i love you, choi beomgyu," you say, pressing another kiss to his cheek. "but you really need some chapstick."

he groans. "you just had to ruin the moment."

"say it back," you argue as you hand him your own chapstick. his expression softens a little when he looks back up at you, his lips curling up in a tiny smile.

"i love you," he breathes. "now c'mere."

hands cup your cheeks, squishing them a bit, before the rest of him is surging forward to kiss you once more. it's all giggly and sweet and neither of you can fight off the grins pulling at your lips. he begrudgingly pulls away after a few minutes, if only to get more air into his lungs, reaching for the guitar and beginning to serenade you. you hum along with him.

this is what finally being home after a long journey feels like, you think.

this is what love feels like.

#txt fluff #beomgyu fluff #txt imagines #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu drabbles #txt soft thoughts #txt soft hours #beomgyu soft hours #txt aus #💌 — gyu

[danytherelentless]

A Heartfelt Goodbye

Eddard Stark x fem!reader

summary: after his wife's recent passing, Lord Stark is looking for a governess to raise his children

warnings! smut, cunniligus, p in v, pre-marital sex (big deal in Westeros), asoiaf typical sexism (if you squint)

word count: 3k

note: please forgive me if there are any mistakes or it appears a little disjointed, the editing was shaky at best

It was more than a year after the loss of his wife that he decided to take on a governess for his children.

He had refused marriage so soon after, and did not think he would ever take a wife again, and had not wanted to have a governess raise his children for it felt an insult to Cat, yet Maester Luwin had been advising him that his children would need such guidance in their lives, especially with them all being so young, and Eddard had finally relented.

He mulled over the options of Northern ladies for some time before deciding upon you. He'd never met you before, but he had known your father, brothers and some of your cousins. Your father had been one of his greatest and truest advisors during Robert's Rebellion, your elder brother one of his friends as well, and he remembers hearing much of you then, though you'd been younger at the time. Patient, caring and wise as a child. Surely you remained so as an adult? You were also unmarried which meant you had no other obligations nor children of your own to tend to. So he sent the letter to your Lord father asking if you would be suited and able to fill such a position in his household.

He received response soon enough and it was settled upon that you would be arriving to Winterfell within the next few weeks.

Your smile was the first thing he noticed upon meeting you, a kind and gentle thing which warmed him to you almost immediately.

"My Lord," you greeted with a curtsy after you had dismounted to stand next to your father and brother who had led you here.

"My Lady. I am thankful you have taken upon this position."

"It is a great honour, my lord. One I hope I shall be able to fulfil."

Robb was the most reluctant of his children to you, though that was expected and understandable as the eldest. His youngest three, however, were instantly enamoured with you, even baby Bran. But it was Jon which made him realise you were perfect for the role whom you treated well as any of his other children.

It took some time of course for the new dynamic to settle, for you to become comfortable with his children and vise-versa, but eventually, even Robb warmed to you. Even Ned himself found that he enjoyed your company. You had to ability to always make him feel at ease or give him the perfect advice for whatever situation he was put in.

He began to fall for you, which felt inevitable given how lovely you were. But he could not help the vicious guilt which he felt. It felt wrong, no matter how much time passed since Cat's passing, it still felt like a great insult to her memory, and to your own honour, though he never acted on his own feelings.

At least not until Robert called upon him when Balon Greyjoy rebelled against the crown.

He sat in the Godswood, the night before he would leave in contemplation. Many of his bannerman had gathered already at Winterfell with more on their way straight to White Harbour. He did not want to die so soon, though that was something he expected just as he had during Robert's Rebellion when he rode away from Riverrun, yet this time it felt so much closer to him. He couldn't bare the thought of Robb being made Lord so young, of his grief. Of the struggle and strife which he would face and the deceit he would no doubt face in spite of his youth. The idea of his little lady Sansa, or his wild little she-wolf Arya not remembering his face as they grew. Of baby Bram not having so much as a memory of him to place to his name.

He thought of you, of never seeing you again, of never confessing the feelings held within his heart. Though his guilt remained to an extent not as it once had, the idea of never getting to tell you made his heart ache something fierce. It overwhelmed any guilt he was feeling.

"My lord," your voice snapped him from his glum pondering.

"My lady. The hour is quite late, the air cold," he could barely see you in the darkness, the only light emitting from the lantern in your hand and the one sitting near his feet.

"I was worried for you," you confessed.

It was a normal thing to worry about. He was beneath no assumption that you felt the same as he, but he knew that you viewed him as a friend for you often spent hours drinking, exchanging stories and laughing well into late evenings together. So much so that he’d had to quietly had to expel rumours amongst the staff to the best of his ability, hoping you had not heard of them. He knew that it was a sign of the impropriety of your relationship, but he just couldn’t bring himself to stop.

"I'll be back soon enough," he found himself reassuring you.

He watches as you walk closer to him, "may I sit?"

"Of course," he spoke embarrassingly quickly.

You took your seat on the tangled roots at his side, shivering slightly as you burrowed closer into your cloak.

"You really shouldn't be out here, my lady. You may catch a chill," he voiced his concern.

"And neither should you. What sort of a friend would I be if I allowed you to wallow out here all alone?" there was teasing in your voice. He found a smile growing across his face.

He looked to you then. You looked truly beautiful in the low light of the flickering lanterns, shadows cast across your face. You seemed quite sad, though he could see a longing in your eyes has he stared at you.

He felt something get trapped in his throat, unable to say anything as he looked upon you. There was a vulnerability which always clung to you, in the way you smiled so freely, the way you spoke so kindly and could be so forgiving. He saw that in you now. Something raw. He craved it, craved you, craved you near him, in his arms. He felt a stirring in the pit of his stomach.

He craved you, completely and utterly. Entirely vulnerable, bare flesh beneath him, moaning for him. His name, not his title, he loved it when you said his name. Not Eddard, just Ned. He wanted to hear it. Now.

He kissed you instead, a hand on your cheek pulling you close to him. Regret flooded him immediately.

"I'm so sorry," he apologised, pulling away, yanking his hand from your flesh, suddenly feeling quite sick. Barely a moment of your lips on his, so sweet and true. The taste turned to ash on his tongue, however.

"That was dishonourable of me, my lady. Forgive me please. I lost myself."

"No," you grabbed at his forearm and moved closer, you leg leaning into his own, "I... I don't mind."

He looks to you then, a goddess at his side. Meant to be worshipped. It was fitting you were both sat beneath a Weirwood tree.

He feels your delicate hand upon his bearded jaw and he allows you to pull him to you, eyes closing as your lips are joined with his.

He can tell you're inexperienced, but he relishes in it. It has been so long since he'd had any company, and he wanted this. With the thought of possible death so close, he could hardly deny himself you, especially if you wanted him too.

He part from you, breathless, "I want you."

He hadn't quite meant to just blurt it out so bluntly, but can't bring himself to want to take it back. It is his truth, after all. And in this moment, it would be wrong for him to not tell you.

You seem shocked for a moment.

"I want you too," you admitted.

His heart stops for a split second before he crashes his mouth back on yours, your tongues tangling together in some dance.

He kisses you for what feels like hours before he remembers you are out in the cold, and then he guides you back to the keep and to your chambers. The walk is silent and you bump into no one, though guards trail you both outside the keep and through some of the hallways.

He is about to part ways with you and leave for his own when you grab his wrist.

"Wait. Why don't you join me?"

Your cheeks are beautifully flushed, and he can hardly refuse such a welcome invitation, though his honour is screaming at him to stop. His desires simply win over, he is a weak man for you.

He undresses you slowly, pulling away your cloak, helping you unlace your dress as you exchange kisses. You help him with his own layers, and soon you are both bare as the day you were born. He looks upon your beauty, across your smooth skin, your breasts, the mound of hair between your legs. He feels his mouth water. He would turn you around and simply sit gazing upon your naked flesh for hours, studying you like a tome of history.

He lays you down upon furs and kisses down your neck, sucking a bruise some too dark into the flesh which he may regret some the next day should he notice, yet he cannot help himself as he listens to your sweet sighs and feels were hands caressing his arms then his chest.

His lips continue down your body, sucking and licking at your breasts and listening to the melodic sounds you bless him with, hands pawing at your thighs as he further parts them. He kisses down you stomach, beneath your bellybutton and then your naval, before finding his place between your legs, eyes upon your cunt, so close to him and oh so delectable.

"What are you..." your sentence is broken by a surprised and quiet moan as his tongue parts your folds and tastes your sweetness. He licks and sucks at you observing each reaction from his place which he could. Every twitch which you body made and every sound which left your lips. Ned took one of your thighs in his hold and brought it up over his shoulder. His nose is buried in the mount of hair above your cunt as he sucks on that bundle he knows will have you see stars.

You moan and gasp, legs tensing around his head and fingers tugging at his dark hair. He cannot help but groan into you, grinding down into your sheets to attempt to relieve the ache in his cock. He resists the urge to fist his cock in hand by instead pushing a finger inside of you, curling it upwards to feel that spongy spot. You are tight and warm and so so wet. He savors every moment of it.

He curls a second finger inside of you, listening to you high keening whimpers and stretches you wider, and then a third.

"Ned!" your fingers tighten and tug harshly at his hair, and his eyes roll to the back of his head as he feels your body tensing as you climax on his fingers. He licks some of it up before he finds himself too impatient to see your face again. He hopes he will be able to do this again so that he may taste you for longer.

You are worn, face etched with sweet ecstasy. He kisses you with your own taste on his tongue, an action which should disgust you, yet you answer with fervour, a laziness to your motions. You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him into you, deepening the kiss even further till your tongue is again in his mouth.

One of your arms caresses down his body as your lips part, your eyes hooded, breathing erratic. Your hand trails over his hip before it wraps around his hard cock.

He thrusts forwards as your fist closes around his tip, jerking downwards experimentally. He wraps his own hand over you guiding it up and down as he would his own in the privacy of his own chambers on lonely nights.

He guides himself within your hand to your cunt, nudging it over your nub, toward your sopping hole.

The thought suddenly hit him hard and fast. So suddenly he jerked back slightly from your touch.

"What... what is it?" you looked concerned, eyes wide, braided hair mussed.

"I shouldn't be doing this, it's wrong." It was dishonourable and an insult to such a fine lady as yourself for him to be debasing you so. You weren't married, after all. Not yet, he thought. He could see you at his side as his wife. But you were not his wife now, and you may never be his wife.

"No, no, no! Please, take me," eyes blown wide, cheeks flushed and chest heaving with each breath you take as you tug him down so gently, "if you'll have me?" His chest clenched at such tender words.

With you begging him so sweetly, he could not resist, though there was a part of him still demanding he stop now, for this was wrong. Yet it was drowned by his raging desire which he had harboured for for so long.

He takes his position once more over you, between your thighs, and pushes himself inside of you slowly and carefully. His eyes nearly roll to the back of his skull at feeling such pleasure, and he nearly thrusts into you as a wild man would, but he resists easily enough for he knew it would cause you harm. He listened as you groaned and your face tugged into a discomforted expression, he felt himself stopping then, ready to pull out should you change you mind.

"Just slowly. Be gentle with me, please," your hands grabbed onto his shoulders, you knees farther parting to allow him better access.

He moves his hips so slowly at first, thrusts shallow and experimental, before his lips captured yours in a passionate flurry of movements. You were so warm, so wet. He knew you were most likely a virgin, a lady such as yourself. That thought only made his feel more hungry for you.

His movements continued as a slow and steady pace, before you whined prettily into his mouth and grabbed at his hip.

"You can move more," you spoke, breathless as he parted from you.

He obliged, building up his pace, pulling one of your legs up and around his waist as his thrusts became deeper and faster with each moan that left you mouth.

He could not tear his eyes away from you, from your sweat slick brow, your squeezed shut eyes and 'o' parted lips. He felt his own release build, but wanted you to finish at least once more for him, so he brought one hand between you and felt for you nub and began to rub at it, listening and watching your reaction as to what was best.

You tightened further around him, legs squeezing at his sides as you came for a second time. He could no sooner hold onto himself and buried his face in your neck and lost himself to you, thrusting without abandon as he chased after his own climax.

He came with a low groan, sucking kisses into your neck, filling you with his seed so deeply that for a moment, he prayed it would take, the thought of seeing you with child so tantalising.

He stayed within you for a few moments, perhaps even minutes, catching his breath and listening to yours.

He presses a tender kiss to your brow before pulling his softened cock from you with a wince. He was unable to look away as he sat up and eventually saw some of jus seed dribble out of you. He had to supress a groan.

"I'm sorry," he eventually broke the silence.

"Whatever for?"

He looked back at you, a goddess much to perfect for someone such as himself, worth more than ten of him, "for dishonouring you, my lady. I would have wed you before bedding you, yet I have not."

"I don't expect you to wed me, my lord," you admitted.

"Please don't call me that now. I have no right to any title after the disservice I have given you," for even thinking of getting her with child.

"You haven't. I wanted to be with you, just as much. I hope you don't think any less of me for it."

"No, I do not."

"Then we are simply two friends having a long and heartfelt goodbye," your smile is sad and small, not one of any joy or happiness.

"Is that all you view me as? Your friend?" he found himself speaking before he could stop, pulling on his underclothes.

"No, no. I... I feel for you. In my heart. I..." you paused and he looked at you, "I have come to love you, Ned. For not only the just and honourable Lord which you are, but for the loving father, and kind man. I enjoy the companionship you have offered me in the time which I have known you, and I have desired more of you for some time now."

He found himself dropping his breeches from hand and returning to your bed where you sat looking at him.

"It is fine should you not feel the same--"

"I do," he interrupted, bringing his hand to your cheek, "I love you."

You leaned into him, smile broadening across your face.

"I will wed you upon my return, my lady. I swear it to you."

He kisses you once more, a deep and long kiss filled with his love, before dressing and bidding you goodnight, feeling wrong to leave you after you had shared something so intimate with him.

Despite himself, despite leaving for war and having bedded you, confessed his love and swore to marry you though he may not even live to see you again after tomorrow, he sleeps well and peacefully that night.

He wed you the same day of his return.

comments are looked upon fondly here so don't be a stranger ;)

(please no negativity, my heart can't take it. I am a delicate soul)

#ned stark x reader #ned stark x you #asoiaf x reader #got x reader #got x you #ned stark #eddard stark #got smut #asoiaf smut #smut #house stark #fluff

[marlboroenjoyer]

let me show you my thanks

so here is part two to 'cat got your tongue' i love miguel and i dunno maybe this was ooc but its my first smut fic with him be gentle. also i tried desperately to get like actually grammatically correct and normal sounding spanish from a bunch of different websites; so i really apologize in advance if it sounds disjointed or weird. im a patehtic monolingual individual :(.

summary [2.9k words] - you took an unannounced break from the spider-society after the fiasco that was your last meeting with miguel. he wants to show you just how thankful he is for you.

warnings - 18+ (if you're a minor and i see you interacting with my stuff you're getting blocked). SHARP TEETH BABY RAAAAHHHHHHHHH, inappropriate use of venom, slight degredation if you squint.. nsfw under the cut!

you were on autopilot for the next few days after your conversation? argument? with miguel. you were home in your own universe; you had shucked the gizmo off your wrist the second your feet landed in your small apartment. you didn’t even want to think about miguel let alone get contacted by the man so you shed your brain of anything involving hq. the days consisted of bouncing between your mattress and your desktop, occasionally fighting whatever enemy decided to break your peace. it was nice to fall back into your once usual routine before your discovery of the spider-society. and it was even nicer to finally have a little peace of mind. not thinking about miguel had made everything a little easier.

you weren't worried about his reactions to anything. you weren't concerned about his hair trigger temper; about whether or not something you said would set him off. there was the smallest licks of anxiety in the back of your mind as the radio silence was unnerving to a degree, you had grown accustomed to hearing lylas cheerful voice break into your mind. it was easy to shake those feelings though; spending the mostly quiet evenings catching up on shows or games you just simply hadn’t had to time for anymore. 

it had been storming all day, and you had found out after talking with other spider-people, that you had gotten quite lucky with your version of new york. the storms never pulled more trouble out of the damp dark cracks of the city, if anything it deterred them. the city life was hushed by the gray gloomy skies spitting fat raindrops at your window. you felt something ping up your spine as you were sitting at your desktop. it wasn’t the same feeling you got when you sensed some form of danger; this surge of nerves was telling you something was off today. before you could even get up from your desk chair, a large orange spiral of energy tore into your dimension; and out popped the looming man you were trying to avoid.

“you took your bracelet off.” there was an edge to his voice; something unknown on the cusp, threatening to fall out and into your lap. you didn’t dignify his statement with a response. you didn’t owe any responses to miguel. so you just stared at him in the silence of your apartment; his vivid eyes searching you for anything; and after a few more moments of silence he decided to continue talking.

“we’ve– i’ve– been trying to contact you.” another long beat. “you had duties to fulfill. you’ve been holed up in your dimension while i thought– lo que sea…”[1] his mouth snapped shut before he finished his sentence, cutting himself off before giving an exasperated sigh. his hands rubbed down his face, before revealing his eyes which were intensely trained on you. your expression gave nothing away, you were just going to stand aside and watch him fight with himself inside his head; or maybe he’d even just give up and leave. part of you hoped for the latter, but you also wanted him to finally be able to figure out how to speak to you.

“listen. i understand you were, shit probably still are, angry about how i reacted.” his words for grating against his clenched teeth and set jaw. clearly this was very difficult. “but i didn’t know how to react to the fact that you were a breath away from meeting death. i had come to terms with death a very long time ago. but i don’t know if i’d be able to get over it, if you died.” you continued to let him speak, watching him as he chewed on the words and mulled them over in his head. 

“you are so fucking annoying sometimes, but you are so lovely and you’re so soft. and i know you can hold you own but you…” you could practically see steam coming from his ears, as the cogs in his brain turned away trying his best to figure out how to express his thoughts. he stopped talking for a moment as he approached you slowly. “tenía tanto miedo que sentí ganas de vomitar.”[2] his voice was a fraction of the volume it once was. his hands gently grabbed yours.

“i’m sorry i was…more or less a dick. you didn’t deserve that, especially after you saved my skin. quería… darte las gracias por salvarme la vida.”[3] his eyes bore into your own. now you were genuinely speechless, and not just holding out due to spite. thankfully your body acted for you, reaching forward and wrapping your arms around miguel’s strong abdomen. you let your head rest against his chest and you waited for his reaction. after a few beats his arms wrapped around your frame. his head ducked down to tuck into the crook of your neck.

you whispered out a thank you, to which you felt a quick puff of air escape miguel’s nose. he couldn’t understand why you were thanking him. you pulled your arms back and over his shoulder, gently grabbing a handful of his dark hair and pulling his head back up to look at you. before he could say anything you lightly placed your lips onto his in a timid kiss. an action so tender and so soft, it managed to shatter miguel's heart and rebuild it anew. it took less than a second for miguel to kiss you back. immediately the atmosphere changed, electricity surging through the both of you as miguel deepened the kiss. his hands skated around your body, kneading the flesh underneath his fingers whenever he paused his ministrations.

your hands were still occupied with fists fulls of his hair, and you took that as an opportunity to tug on his hair as you two made out. his mouth pulled away from yours for the briefest moment; allowing himself to let out a breathy groan. his hands planted themselves firmly on your ass, squeezing hard making you yelp. as you both made out, he was backing you up into the wall; and before you even realized your back was pressed flat against the wall. his knee immediately slid between your thighs, slotting right between them as if you were made to fit against each other. 

his thigh pressed hard against your core, and you let out a stuttering gasp at the pressure. he gradually took hold of all of your senses. he was becoming overwhelming. you gently pushed against his chest, humming against his lip as his tongue continued to play with your bottom lip. he pulled his head away after a few more moments, almost irritated by the prospect of leaving your lips for more than thirty seconds.

“what’s wrong mi amor?” his voice had dropped a couple of octaves. his eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at you. “are you still hurt?” you shook your head in response. he had backed up enough to let you slip out from between him and the wall. you grabbed his hand and led him to your bedroom. the whole apartment was dark aside from the dim lamps you had lit scattered around the few rooms. you could hear the rain still colliding with the glass of your window, however that was mostly drowned out by the pounding of your heart. you swore miguel could hear it as well, which only made matters worse.

you had merely dreamed of scenarios similar to these, never once thinking they could actually become real. some section of your brain wondered if you were passed out in bed already. sure you and miguel were amicable with each other, but he was such a shut off man that you were never really able to characterize what you were to him; and vice versa.

the end of your bed came in contact with your calves, and miguel pushed you down onto it. you landed with a quite huff, while the realization of what was going to happen tonight dawned on you. miguel must’ve seen the deer in headlights look on your face, as he leaned down with his hands bracing himself on either side of your shoulders.

“i want to show you just how grateful i am for what u did for me… only if you allow me.” his face was nothing but completely genuine, giving you a way to say no to all of this if you really wanted to. you didn’t say anything in response, you merely wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back down into a much more heated kiss. miguel groaned low in his throat at the feeling of you yanking him down. unfortunately for you though, he started pulling away, instead standing upright once more to take on his suit. with a quick shrug of his shoulders his chest was exposed, suit still sitting low on his hip. not like it was hiding anything from you. you could clearly see the line of his hard dick straining against this unstable molecular prison.

“baby, if you want this to keep going… im gonna have to hear you say it.” the corners of his mouth were tugged upwards in a sly smirk. he wanted nothing more than to hear you say how much you wanted him at this moment. fuck he felt his cock jump at the mere thought of your plush lips opening to beg for him. he watched as you opened and closed your mouth a few times, observing the way your struggled with vocalizing your thoughts.

“miguel…” your voice was a pathetic whimper, and you squeezed your thighs together to alleviate your desperation. miguel’s practically rolled back into his skull, hearing you say his name like that– his big hand gripped your knees which had been brought up to your chest, his talons threatening to spring out and dig into your soft skin.

“say it baby. i gotta hear you say it.” he edged you on, his erection now pressed firmly against your ass as encouragement.

“miguel please… i need you so bad. dreamt about this moment.” your confession felt like a swift quick to the chest, successfully ridding his lungs of any oxygen. you’d dreamt about this before. how could he hold back now.

“dios mío… siento que un día me vas a matar.”[4] his voice was a mere growl at this point, his jaw clenched as he stared down at you. “tell me, what exactly have you dreamt about?” he shifted you further up onto the mattress, giving him the opportunity to box you in with his huge frame. embarrassment was licking at your subconscious like flames, making your whole body get swelteringly hot. but there was something in miguel’s expression that egged you on. you felt like you were going to die if you didn’t tell him.

“i think about your teeth…a lot… recently i’ve found myself– ugh this is so…” you covered your face with your hands before continuing on. “i think about you biting me…again i guess… i think about your venom.” you just never ceased with rendering miguel speechless, he guessed it was just one of your many talents at this point.

you were starting to get nervous about your confession. miguel hadn’t responded yet, but before you could get too into your own head you felt his lips ghost over you neck; right across the spot he bit you the first time. your breath hitched in your throat, and you involuntarily whimpered.

“you’ve really gotta trust me if you want that. you’d give everything up to me.” you only nodded your head. you trusted him; in all honesty you think you trusted him more than almost anyone in the society. you heard him click his tongue sharply.

“what did i say earlier? if you want this i gotta hear you say it.” you felt his breath fan over your neck, as he peppered small kisses all over it and your chest. you had wrapped your legs around his waist, and he was very gently grinding down into you. gentle vibrations wracked their way through your entire body causing small gasps and whimpers to come spilling from your kiss swollen lips.

“please miguel… i surrender everything to you. i trust you.” that was all he needed to hear before he bit down into your trapezius muscle, just like before. only this time you were much more aware of the effects now. he stayed like that for a couple seconds longer, before detaching from your neck and licking away the blood from the wound. slowly but surely you felt all motor functions slip from your body. you were overcome with this euphoric dullness, you felt like you were floating. while you slowly felt all control drain from your body, miguel was making quick work of your clothes, sharp claws slicing through your shorts and shirt like it was nothing. he whispered promises of new clothes as he continued with your bra and panties.

“how are you feeling mi amor? can you speak at all?” you acknowledged miguel’s questions with a quiet moan. as much as he wanted to take his time with you, work you up before tearing everything back down; he knew he had very little patience left, and limited time to work with the venom. your metabolism was extremely fast in comparison to the usual suspects he would subject his venom to, so he had much less time to keep you in this dreamy haze. he wanted to make sure the only word you could think of was his name.

the rest of his spider suit disappeared into nothing as he positioned you. you legs had fallen from his waist a little while ago when you first started feeling the venom, so he flipped you over onto your stomach. he arms wrapped underneath your hips to hoist you up so your ass was in the air, with your back arched and chest pressed into the mattress beneath you. he knew he was going to warm you up. miguel hasn’t exactly had many partners as of late but he was aware of his size. one of his hands found its way to your pussy, his other hand bracing your hip and keeping you steady. his fingers rubbing gentle circles into your clit. hazy pleasure rolled through you, like waves lapping at the shore. long strung out moans clawed their way up your throat; spurring miguel on. his fingers had moved from your clit, moving deeper in as they breached your hole. a deep groan echoed through to room.

“christ you’re so fucking wet. such a slut, ready to give up any control.” god his dick was painfully hard now. pulsing steadily every few seconds, weeping precum and begging to be buried deep in your hot cunt. he felt your walls flutter and clench when he degraded you, and he filed that information deep into his brain. his fingers were so overwhelming through the fog that settled inside your skull. your breaths had become erratic, chest rising and falling to desperately take in air. you moans were cracking, as miguel fully rammed three fingers in and out of you.

“i hear you baby, i hear you. im gonna take care of you.” he curled his fingers in search of that one spot that would make you see stars. it didn’t take long for him to find it as your volume increased even more. 

“m-mig…” you desperately tried to form words; to warn miguel of your rapidly approaching orgasm. you were fighting against the paralysis and the overwhelming floating feeling. your pussy clenched down tight against miguel’s fingers, a sudden wetness coating most of his hand. he pumped his fingers a couple more times as he worked you through your orgasm. once your breathing settled a little he gently took his fingers out of you. he took his fingers into his mouth, grunting as your taste flooded his taste buds. 

his patience had thoroughly snapped, two iron grips digging into your hips as he lined himself up with your aching pussy. he steadily began to push himself into you, breath getting punched out of him with every inch your hot walls enveloped. once he finally bottomed out, you both needed time to catch your breath. you were so full of him and you finally felt complete. the only thing you could think about was miguel. no amount of time could have prepared you for miguel to start moving. he immediately set a brutal pace, the sounds coming out of him resembling that of an animal. 

“god you’re– holy fuck- practically strangling me. greedy pussy just sucking me in for more.” you struggled to comprehend what he was saying. miguel curled in on top of you, pressing you flush against his broad chest. one hand started rubbing hard circles into your clit, whiled the other held you firmly to him. the placement of his arm across your chest allowed him access to your nipples, something he quickly took advantage of. he tweaked and pinched the hard pebble, as he struggled to keep his eyes open. he wanted to look at your face as he caused you to come undone for a second time. your mouth had lulled open, freely drooling onto the pillow beneath your head. tears squeezed their way out of your eyes.

your bodies stuck together, the sweat clinging to your skin. miguel continued to incoherently mumble spanish to you, and you were far too blissed out to listen to anything at all. the white hot coil in the very bottom of your stomach threatening to snap. you cunt fluttered and clamped down on miguel’s dick. it only spurred him on even more, his pace punishing now as he fucked you into the mattress. a long broken scream boomed from your throat as you came, your vision going completely white despite you eyes being clenched tightly shut. your eyebrows screwed up in an expression of pure pleasure. miguel slammed down fully into you, his cock kissing your cervix as he came with a loud moan. you were already so full of his cock that there was practically no room for him cum. he watched with wide eyes and his cum spilled from your spent pussy dripping down around his cock that was still inside you.

he let you both level out before pulling out as carefully as possible. the friction still causing you to cry out in overstimulation. miguel hushed your cries by pressing light kisses all over your face and neck. his thumbs brushed away the stray tears. he finally turned you back over, carefully laying your head back down onto the pillow below you.

“can you move at all mi amor?” your headspace had still not returned to normal, seeing as how you didn’t really respond. miguel got up from the bed and quietly padded over to your kitchen. you whimpered out for him to return, not enjoying the silence of being alone in the room in this loopy headspace you’ve found yourself in. a few moments later he returned to the room, a cup of water and warm washcloth in his hands. the bed dipped underneath the weight of his body as he set the cup of water on the table for a moment and began working on getting you clean. once this was done he flung the now dirty washcloth into your hamper.

his strong arms shifted you for the last time that night, leaning you against him with your head cradled against his chest once he had gotten comfortable. with you in this position he reached over to grab the water and pressed the rim to your bottom lip, silently offering. you dipped your head back just enough to take a couple of careful sips before relaxing your head against him once again. with the rain as white noise in the background you drifted in and out of consciousness. 

“gracias, mi amor.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[1] - whatever

[2] - i was so scared that i felt like vomiting

[3] - i wanted... to thank you for saving my life

[4] - dear god... why do i get the feeling you're going to be the death of me

#across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse smut #spiderman 2099 imagine #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 smut #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut

[whirlwindimagines]

Can you do a vash x reader where the reader is getting overestimed and vash helps them calm down and comforts them?

Me running to write this after my therapy session, In all seriousness lol I did make this being about overstimulated, kinda then it got a little more. I've taken from my own thoughts and feelings for this one, since when I get overstimulated it can spiral out of control for me. No, I didn't just write this about Vash comforting ME shut up. Also, I wrote this a little differently, I wrote this how I feel a panic attack feels. So it may feel a little wild and disjointed, so stick with me <3

‘They see right through, Can you see right through me? I see right through me’

Vash x Reader

You should be celebrating, everyone else was. Why was this so hard, why were you so difficult, why are you so broken? Your mind can’t help but supply that thought to you, and it makes your chest burn it burns hard enough that you can’t even breathe, have you ever been able to breathe? 

It was all too much, sitting here in some dark forgotten corner while everyone celebrated around you. Having fun, existing without a problem. Your rag-tag group of friends managed to save this no-name town from bandits, and well instead of being chased from a town like usual, they were drinking and celebrating in your honor. It was a good change of pace for everyone, they deserved this. Did you? Did you deserve any of this, your friends?

Glancing up briefly, you spot Meryl trying and failing to rein in Wolfwood, Roberto at the bar drinking happily, and Vash…. actually, you don't see Vash at all. For a brief moment, all your own worries and fears are forgotten, you hoped he wasn't getting into trouble…. he had an incredible knack for it. You don't think you’ve met anyone with such bad luck. 

But then you spot him, shyly accepting praise from those around him, a smile that you can tell isn't fake. And for another moment you find peace in that, if anyone deserves to celebrate its him. You let your senses focus on Vash, just being in his presence was enough for you. Maybe you should get up and join them, you decide to, even going as far as to stand from your seat.

And then that familiar feeling, the doubt, the worry, the fear, it's all too much. It's always too fucking much. The lights, the sounds, the people. It's like you can never be. Never exist in the moment, and every fleeting moment of happiness is ruined by the fact. It's too much and you're too little. You can't be here anymore; without a second thought you turn and leave. 

The fresh air is like a Godsend, keep moving, just go, leave it behind. And you do because isn't that the easiest thing you can do for yourself? Gracefully exit the scene, no big productions, a forgotten side character in somebody else's story, because how could the story ever be yours? Your mind is working a mile a minute, it's doesn’t even make sense. You keep walking until you reach the center of town, a lovely fountain sits in the center, it's painfully quiet, and just what you need. 

Sitting on the edge of the fountain, leaning forward to grip your head. Begging for it to stop, for just a moment. Why can’t you enjoy anything? This is ridiculous and pathetic, five….no ten minutes tops and then you’ll force yourself to go back. You just need to breathe. This was fine, you’ll be fine. 

However, the gentle hand on top of your head startles you, sitting up quickly your gaze quickly connects to Vash’s concerned one. Oh, that’s all you can come up with, because why is he here? Shouldn't Vash be with the others, having fun with people who can understand how to? “Are you okay?” Why does he have to speak to you in that gentle way? Why does he always just know? For a second and because you're a fucking idiot, you're angry. Standing quickly Vash removes his hand to stare at you with a question in his eyes, as his arm falls to his side. 

“I’m fine.” Your tone is cold, and straight to the point, his expression shifts, and it's just not fair how can someone possibly look at you like that? Like you hung the stars and the moon? Like your someone to be seen and looked at. “You’re a bad liar did you know that?” his tone is as always kind, but you can sense a hint of something more a plea to be honest with him. 

You are like a wild animal cornered; this is not why you ran out here. You don't want to talk, what was the point? Talking didn't fix what was broken inside of you, nothing could fix that. The sound of your name makes you look up, and you tense. Vash stood closer in front of you, not touching you, but if he reached out his hand he could. It was more the look in his eyes that made you freeze, he looked… tired? No, sad? That wasn't the word for it either… was it longing? 

“You don't have to pretend with me.”

Is that what you do? Pretend to be a person, pretend that you can make it through the day, pretend that your mind isn't a jumbled mess of too much and too little, and pretend that you're happy. Yeah, you guess he's right. The anger leaves you at once, shoulders dropping. “I don't know what to say.” and isn't that the truth, wouldn’t it be easier if you just could figure it out if you just knew? 

Vash’s face lights up, not because you are upset, but because it's the first honest answer he has gotten out of you in weeks. Nervously as if reaching for a wild animal, he reaches a hand out to you palm up. You stare at it, your eyes flickering from his hand to his bright blue eyes. “That’s okay! You don't have to say anything, not right now. Or ever even! I just want you to know…I care… and I get it.” he is rambling in that nervous way he does, his voice cracking a bit at the end you can see the embarrassed blush that sits on his cheeks. 

It makes your eyes soften and smile, his hand touches your face then, holding your cheek, and your breath hitches. His thumb rubs the top of your cheek, right under your eye. He’s smiling now too, and oh no, you think you have a new problem now… but one you don't mind facing. Well, you do mind, it's a little scary, but it makes your heart race in a nice fluttery way not the burn you're used to. “It's…hard to explain, I just… everything feels like too much?” You can’t meet his gaze. “Sorry, that makes no sense.” You say this with a small laugh. 

Your gaze drifts back to his when his other hand comes up to cup your other cheek, the feeling between his mechanical hand and his flesh hand is… nice. “No, it makes sense, you’re doing great.” The praise makes you blush, yeah this is going to be a big problem, future you are going to have to deal with that one. “Vash, thank you.” it's such a simple thing to say, but you hope he understands.

He does, how could he not? When it comes to you, he’ll do whatever it takes to understand, to just listen. You don’t need to talk or explain anything to him, he’s here and he’ll be here as long as you need it, which he hopes is a long time, because God does he need you.Reaching up with shy hands, you grip his wrists, for the first time all night your mind is settled and at peace. He can’t fix you, because rationally you are not broken. But he helps mend the wounds in your soul, in a way you’ve never felt before, you wish you could tell him just how much you appreciate it, his comfort, the endearing way he acts. You squeeze his wrists, giving him a smile. It feels like the start of something, but right now this moment is enough.

#vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #vash imagines #vash x you #vash the stampede x y/n #vash the stampede x you #vash the stampede #trigun x reader #trigun stampede headcanons #trigun stampede #trigun stampede imagine #trigun x you #trigun stampede x reader #do NOT perceive me #im fine dont look to hard into this #ugh when is it my turn to be happy

[minecraft-inspo]

Striking the Balance

Considerations for designing vanilla-adjacent block models

or “A Case Study in Bivalves”

I’ve spent a number of years working on Minecraft textures and models for various projects, from small retextures to hand-crafted mobs. Lately, I’ve found particular interest in the design philosophy of vanilla Minecraft, specifically, how complex ideas are illustrated in simple models. In coming to understand this design philosophy, I have been able to learn how to better design “vanilla-like” models and additionally discovered where I am able to push these boundaries of design without creating a disjointed experience. As I have worked through retexturing and remodeling the Prehistoric Nature mod for my personal resource pack, Vanilladendron, I have had to make many design considerations along these lines, and I hope my thoughts are useful to those considering creating vanilla style resource packs or mods in the future. 

The design history of Minecraft is long and messy. With the earliest developers being programmers but not artists, a purposeful design philosophy took time to develop and left numerous exceptions, from the inconsistent pixel sizes between entities of different scales to greatly varying levels of detail in blocks. Despite this, with time, two general thoughts would prevail. First of these is that Minecraft is not a voxel game, and second, that objects should be represented by the simplest possible model that can accurately communicate their identity. Failure to align with either of these two thoughts is the primary way that modded aesthetics clash with vanilla Minecraft. This is not necessarily a problem, and may in fact be a purposeful design choice, but anyone wishing to create an experience congruous with the core of Minecraft must keep them in mind. 

Thought one: Minecraft is not a voxel game.

In understanding what Minecraft is, it is important to understand what it is not. So, what are voxels, anyway? In an artistic sense (no, we’re not gonna talk about the coding or rendering of voxels), voxels are essentially 3D pixels. Rather than just representing points on a flat grid, voxels have volume - they fill three dimensional space. So, knowing this, in what sense is Minecraft not composed of voxels? While Minecraft uses pixel art and 3D environments, pixels never represent stand-alone 3D voxels. Instead, textures are applied to flat surfaces on larger polygonally-defined objects. If, instead, Minecraft were a voxel-based game, you could expect to see objects such as flowers represented by 3D structures, with each pixel converted to a voxel, as has been done by many resource packs, such as the fittingly named “Default 3D”. For examples of voxel-based games, consider Cube World or Teardown. Both games show how voxels can be effectively used to create an aesthetic very unique from Minecraft, with varying degrees of blockiness. Note how objects and character designs from each game would be greatly incongruous with vanilla Minecraft, which does not use a voxel art style. In designing models for Minecraft, it is often tempting to stray towards a voxel aesthetic, as this can allow for clear shaping and detailing in 3D space, but if a vanilla-adjacent look is the goal, this should be thoroughly avoided.

Default 3D resource pack displaying voxel-like models

Teardown, a game with a voxel-based art style 

Thought two: Objects should be represented by the simplest possible model that can accurately communicate their identity

This thought ties closely to the prior, and discusses how objects are represented without being detailed 3D voxel structures. The vast majority of objects in Minecraft are blocks - cubes with six 16 x 16 faces. While this works well for many things, particularly pieces of terrain, there are many cases in which objects could not be communicated well by a meter cubed. In these cases, the simplest solutions are used. For example, rather than representing vines as a series of twisting voxels, they are a 16 x 16 texture on a single flat plane. Flowers and saplings - too complex for a single plane, are formed from only two faces, crossed. Of course, objects get more complex than that. Take for instance cauldrons, anvils, or hoppers. In these cases, the shape of the object is important in communicating the purpose of said object, and despite being more complex than most blocks, they are still relatively simple and do not stray into the territory of being mistaken for voxel art. It can be difficult to know how detailed to make a model. Even Mojang struggles with it. Sometimes they undershoot, creating a model that lacks necessary details, such as early versions of the campfire or archaeology pots. I am of the opinion that the redesigned campfires represent the most detailed block currently in Minecraft that still fits the vanilla aesthetic perfectly. Sometimes Mojang overshoots, such as with the dragon egg, which borders on voxel art, and which provides repeated frustration to the current Minecraft dev team. With this in mind, I view the dragon egg as the furthest extent of detail which can be accepted within “vanilla-like” models, and mods should truly go no further. You must figure out how to strike a balance between simplicity and complexity. If you are unsure how detailed to make your model, start with the least detail you can conceive and work up from there until you are happy with the aesthetic you have created. 

The original, under-detailed campfire block

The dragon egg, an overly detailed block

Opinions by the developers on the dragon egg

Philosophy in practice

Let’s apply these thoughts to a model from the Prehistoric Nature mod, specifically the “upright bivalve.” This is a model which has, to my mind, overshot the vanilla look in terms of detail. Specifically, it looks as though it is composed of voxels rather than larger, textured faces. Thus, it stands out greatly against vanilla blocks and other underwater decorations such as seagrass. 

While I know where I would start in terms of reworking it, I would like this to act as a full guide, and so I will walk through my entire design process (which I usually do in my head) in the form of fully-fledged models, starting as discussed before with the simplest possible model, and then increasing complexity until we reach a design which I believe fits the vanilla feel of Minecraft and which I find personally pleasing. 

Our first option is a flat plane, something similar to vines or glow lichen. It should be quickly obvious that this is not the correct choice. It’s hard to tell that these are even supposed to be shells, and certainly not “upright” ones at that.

The next level of complexity would be that of a cross model, like saplings. I personally feel this one has some potential, and with a bit of texture tweaking, it could work. I suspect that if Mojang were to add this block, it would look something similar to this. However, I don’t feel it fits the aesthetic goals of myself or the original artist of the mod, so let’s continue to tweak it. 

Perhaps we could mimic the shape of the original design, but use flat textures. While I feel this does better represent the shape I want than the previous option, it still appears too flat to be the oyster-like shells that I’m going for.

So we finally land at the version I like (in fact, the one I originally designed, the others being merely representations of my thought process). It is very similar to the design from the mod, just with the voxel shapes being simplified down into clear faces. This design is likely a bit more complicated than would be added to vanilla Minecraft these days, but doesn’t clash horribly with what is already in the game. 

There we have it! A vanilla-inspired remodel that fits both the default appearance of the game while generally following the ideas introduced by the mod. Here it is featured alongside a variety of other remodels that I have done for my resource pack.

 

Thanks so much for reading! I hope this guide is useful to up-and-coming resource pack and mod makers!

#minecraft #reference #pixel art #art #vanilladendron

[doll-r-t]

Butterflies in your stomach

Syverson x autistic!reader

Just a small thing I thought about.

TW: fluff

Masterlist pinned on my blog

gif by demicampirew

You had met Syverson when he moved in with Jay, his best friend, after he was done with the military. Jay brought him to the bar, your friends and you would usually hang out. He was so handsome and immediately you had a crush on him. He was very much your type. Broad, muscular but with a layer of fat, not clearly defined muscles but clearly strong. They were functional muscles and you could only imagine how he could lift you up, carry you in his arms. Or easily lift the heavy things you had problems with. You dreamed about him coming up behind you taking the heavy things from you and easily carrying them to wherever you needed. And as a cherry on top he had a beard, giving him a rough, rugged look that made your heart flutter. Yet, what truly enticed you was how kind and caring he was, joking around even if it was on his own expense. He was cocky but not arrogant. 

Yet, you had no idea how to go about your crush, no idea what kind of woman he would be interested in and if you fell into that category. You spent countless nights wondering, thinking about him. Your heart would beat faster and faster when you knew you would see him whenever your friends would go out in the evening. You were not in the habit to regularly go out but the fluttering in your stomach gave you enough energy not to miss one outing and the chance to see him.

Your best friend found this quite odd that you would willingly go to every gathering. And finally only a week after you had realized you like Syverson you told your best friend. You were never a person who was ashamed of your feelings. Not understanding the secrecy around having a crush. 

Even though it would make you sad, very much so if he did not like you, you would be okay. At least you would know and could try and move on. 

However, as much as you tried you struggled with making conversation with him. It was always difficult for you. You either talked too little or too much. You did not know what to say, when and how to say something and eventually the conversations would die down and you were just not interesting enough for people to stick around. This got even worse when you liked someone. Trying to think clearly ignoring how hard your heart was beating and often your sentences were disjointed. While at times when a topic would arise you had previously been fixated on or were currently interested in. You would info dump and even sometimes correct people when they said something not entirely true. This was the biggest reason you struggled with finding a partner. You were just out of your depth with social interactions. And no one had ever caught your attention as much as Syverson. All you wanted was to be wrapped up into his arms and make him laugh, enjoy the rumble in his chest and the amazing feeling it gave you when you would make someone laugh. Especially laughter of happiness, this was the greatest joy for you. 

You would always smile at him. When you first saw him you could not help but let the biggest broadest smile take over your face. Squishing up your cheeks until it would look like your eyes were closed. Yet, during the time you would spend with your friends at a bar or at someone's house having a BBQ you would shyly smile at him whenever your eyes met. No idea how to strike up a conversation. You could hardly look him in the eyes. Whenever you have intense emotion it is hard for you to look people in the eyes. No matter bad or good emotions. Your heart would race so hard that it would hurt if you also had to look directly at the person's eyes. Which was a shame as Sy had such beautiful eyes. You tried making conversation with him. You voice soft and tentative trying to curb the anxiety you felt talking to him, hoping he liked you. 

You could not see how soft his eyes were when he looked at you. The encouraging smile when he saw the nervousness whenever he talked to you. At first he thought you might be a bit scared of him but soon he realized that you had taken a liking to him. He had talked to his best friend, asking if he knew something you were interested in. So he could coax you out of your shell. It was a bit hard to hold up the conversations at times but he did not mind leading the way throughout the chats you two had. It was superficial at first and he caught on quickly that you struggled a little with social interaction. So when his best friend said he would ask his boyfriend, a guy from your friend group he saw you get along easily, Sy felt encouraged that next time you two saw each other he would have something to talk about with you. He wanted you to feel included in the group and now that Syverson was retired and was so kindly taken into the friend group he did everything to be a part of their little found family. 

When his best friend's boyfriend was over at their place he gave him some pointers not only on you but other people in the group. Yet Sy especially listened to what he said about you. You liked cartoon drawings, had a high level of education and loved learning new things. You tried to learn different languages, loved books and storytelling. You were closed off at first until you got a basic understanding of a person. But once someone would get through your shell you would open up. As Syverson understood from what the boyfriend said, you were honest, kind, gentle but stood up for what you believed, fighting for your loved ones. Syverson  thought long and hard about what the boyfriend had said about you. He remembered the way you made sure everyone was okay, that they had drinks and food. How you ran after your friend when she forgot her hat at the bar even though you would see each other tomorrow. Saying: "I did not want her to be cold or panic searching for her hat." It brought a smile to Syverson's face. The more he thought about you the more he wanted to get to know you. 

He slowly and so gently fell in love with you. When you two talked and he brought up a book he knew you liked, Syverson fell full force for you. The way your eyes lit up, how you stumbled over your word because you were speaking so fast, how you would gesture with your hands and smile up at him in excitement. 

However, you surprised him when your group of friends left the bar. You turned to him, a little nervous and asked him if he wanted to have coffee with you. "Just us two. I like you and would love to get to know you better. If that is okay with you." He had never been asked out, well so direct and honest. He liked that. You seemed so fearless while doing it. Letting him know what you want but making sure you would be okay if he refused. Normally Sy was the one asking out the woman and the caveman at him was annoyed you had beaten him to it. Yet the war tired man in him was relieved to have such directness. No dancing around, straight and simple. 

Finally he smiled at you, "'course darlin'. Would love that." He pulled out his phone to give you his number. Although you two were in a group chat with all your friends he wanted the experience of giving you his number, making it feel more like a romantic start. You beamed up at him pulling out a piece of paper. His lips quirked at this. He knew you had your phone on you. But you looked so cute, with the piece of paper in your hands holding it out excitedly to him. 

Giving him the piece of paper he saw you had written your phone number on it and your name. He took it happily. "Let me know when you wanna grab that coffee. I am free most of the time." You went on, still smiling up at him. "You got it sweetheart." He hesitated a bit. He thought of your honesty so he gave himself a push. Screw seeming too eager! Who cares anyway? 

“How about tomorrow at 3pm.” He smiled down at you. 

Your friends had walked a bit further away giving you two some space but couldn’t help but look at the two smiling at each other. You two are so cute, your best friend thought. 

“We could go to the small cafe with the vintage furniture, the one couple streets down the road.” He pointed his thumb behind him. You nodded eagerly. He knew you loved that cafe. 

“Of course, I love that cafe. They have the option to put vanilla sugar into the coffee!” You exclaimed excitedly. “Well then it’s decided. I can pick you up and we can park by O'malley's pub then walk downtown.” You nodded once more. “See you then.” You hugged him. Burying your face in his chest, he enclosed you in his arms, almost swallowing you whole. He could get used to this. You lifted your head looking up at him, with sparkling eyes. Taking your face in his hands he kissed your forehead. “See you then.” He whispered. Watching as you and your best friend walked down the road to your car. 

Both of you went home that night with butterflies in your stomach and a smile on your face.

Taglist:

@tumblnewby @irishprincess89 @wheretheriversrunintothesea @amberangel112 @sofiebstar @omgkatinkaa @enchantedbytomandhenry @snowbellexx @daddys-littlewhitegirll @pjkimrnn @zealoushoundd, @lunedelorient​, @tragicphoenix13​, @alexa-fangirl-forever​, @vhjlucky13​ @bourbonwithicee, @lunedelorient, @identity2212

#syverson x reader #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson #syverson #syverson fluff #syverson imagine #captain syverson smut #captain syverson angst #syverson x autistic!reader #captain syverson x autistic!reader #sand castle (movie) #henry cavill #syverson x you #captain syverson x you #henry cavill x autistic!reader #captain syverson imagine

[ylvaisawolf]

Messy thoughts on Fred (and Tubbo?)

This is really disjointed. This was just me typing everything that popped into my head down.

I have opinions on Fred (and everything around him atm)

Like everyone saying he is evil. Fred himself knows he did wrong things 

He knows he isn't a saint he just has a single person hae loves and cares about [Tubbo]

Fred told Tubbo he did wrong things and yes he did not specify what (From what I recall) but he told Tubbo and he said he didn't care (Tubbo said he would be a villain if Fred is sooo…)

Is it very cruel to tell someone you wish they would get tortured again? Yes! Hell yeah it is. 

Quackity has his reasons for hating the Feds no shit but he threatened Tubbo which is why Fred said that.

(Also I am biased towards Tubbo. I am Foolish/Jaiden in spirit aka I side with the characters I like more over my irl morals)

Like I do think he cares because he has to for the other workers but they are not friends, they are his underlings or bodyguards so you have to be nice there (Or you would hope. Even if manipulative)

Like I would be an idiot to not acknowledge him taking notes on Aypeirre’s torture or again his very cruel comment to Quackity

Fred acts different ways with different people. Like he is definitely more nice with Tubbo for example when he said he was a bad penpal for not responding much and “I genuinely felt like a stalker and that it wasn't morally correct what i was doing…”  (Day 195) of which Tubbo responded in his letter back with “ I don't think you should worry about the morality of trying to find them as kidnapping itself is very immoral.” 

Which is true but still.

Fred also said on the day of the movie date he has done bad stuff to Tubbo. (“You don’t understand, I’ve done bad stuff.” … or something similar as I am not watching the vods.)

So to me I am wondering where some people have been?

Fred is deny deny till he cant then bites back when out of options 

He is seemingly questioning himself and the Feds but atm he is following them along still

Back to Tubbo for a sec I have to mention that he said something along the lines of It seems everyone but the morning crew likes him so it wouldn't be hard for him to be a villain.

I keep bring that up whoops but like Tubbo is really protective of Fred warning him to stay away from Aypierre and that he will gladly listen to anything that worries Fred

Tubbo and Fred really love and trust one another.

ALSO!

Fred wrote on October 8th “I must admit… I don't know what my morals are or trust for the Federation is..” 

Man knows he is messed up <3 

(Also Tubbo just told him it is ok to question your morals)

Fred not trusting the Feds doesn't mean he doesnt follow what they want like torture btw. I am not ignoring that dont worry 

He still is doing his job. He acts like he doesn't like it but he is still doing it.

Also Fred at one point told Philza he loves snitching. Yes, kinda sassy but he did say that. (I think October 4th or 5th)

If it isn't obvious I Adore Fred even if he turns out evil. I find him to be a very interesting character.

Also I am not touching him leading Tubbo, Roier, & Slimecicle to the Maze. I have no idea what the deal is there.

Yeah this post is a mess but I don't normally post my own thoughts or do essays (this isn't even an essay). If I wanted to put more effort in I could but me typing my thoughts down and semi looking for direct quotes is all this post is getting haha.

I don't care if Fred gets better or worse as long as he is a fun and interesting character the whole time .

#qsmp #qsmp fred #qsmp tubbo #long post #? #I don't really like my posts to be reblogged but I also want others thoughts #Messy thoughts #I am nervous haha #Maybe I will make an actual essay on fred ot Tubbo but more likely I will just find one I like and reblog it #Fred is just so interesting to me #i do honestly thibk Fred likes Tubbo only though

[tarisilmarwen]

Rebels Rewatch: "Stealth Strike"

In which, Character Development! and other exciting features.

I mentioned the husband loves Star Wars ships right? This is another one of his favorite episodes, he loooves the Interdictor class.

Always liked this little musical flare at the beginning, already conveys a sense of urgency and danger.

Sato sounds so aggrieved that he has to have Ezra along, lol.

I mean from his perspective Ezra's just an overconfident plucky kid, he hasn't been around Ezra long enough to know how competent the boy is.

Love the staggered Force Theme prelude in the strings there, all broken up and disjointed. Once again Ezra is sensing impending danger.

Still adore the kaleidoscope color effect Rebels uses to mark being forcibly ejected/yanked from hyperspace.

Bbbyyyyyyyy. :((((

Worried Spacefamily be worried.

Hera wisely understands that the best way to infiltrate a top-secret Imperial project is to keep the aliens off the mission lol.

Kanan is being predictably petty about having to work with Rex.

"I sent Ezra... this is the only way." Ouch. I bet Hera is feeling pretty guilty and has thought a lot about this since they learned about it, so you know she's run it through a million times in her head. Probably why Kanan acquiesces to her judgment.

I wanna know the thought process behind the Imps' decision to haul Ezra and Sato in to see Titus. Like, Sato I get, he's the obvious commander of the unit but I wanna know which trooper saw Ezra and was like, "Hmm, he seems Plot Important, I better drag him along too."

Sato still very much Not Impressed with Ezra's posturing.

Hi Brom Titus!

It's hilarious that Ezra's sarcastically used "Jabba the Hutt" so often it's been logged as a known alias of his lololol.

The Giligan Cut between Rex complaining that he'd never wear Stormtrooper armor and Zeb bringing them unconscious troopers to steal the armor from. <3

"I thought it was the same one we used before." LOL. Okay, I gotta stop before I quote every line in this episode.

Can't help it, it's just so fun.

We cut to the shuttle mid-hyperspace and Rex and Kanan are still bickering, but even in the middle of that we get some lovely worried Papa Wolf Kanan hyperfocusing on Ezra as his priority.

I swear it was explained somewhere what the specific codes Rex gives meant but I can't for the life of me remember where now. Pretty sure one of them meant the shuttle was going to explode? Anyway...

Rex seems like he's having just a grand old time. This must feel just like the old days for him.

Lol Kallus getting excited about Ezra's capture and warning Titus "[...]do not underestimate that boy." He knows firsthand how much of a threat and nuisance Ezra can be.

A little variation on the Death Star theme here, kind of appropriate given this is a very similar-feeling kind of infiltration and rescue.

Maybe that's why I like this episode so much, has a lot of A New Hope vibes.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: Chopper's legs jerking as he rolls over the hump in the doorway.

The ANH vibes continue with this turbolift scene, which is just hilarious. From Rex not knowing which button to push to the Imperial officer snarking at our hero duo, it's just... *chef's kiss*

They are a disaster pair and I just love them.

Cut to the troopers that are escorting Ezra to his "secure cell" and I'm sorry, I adore this whole sequence. Ezra being a little hyper-competent badass is my whole jam, okay?

This is so clever. <3333

Ezra makes very short work of his guards, without really hurting them (something that would contrast in S3 after the whole Malachor Loss-Of-Innocence thing) and then immediately shoots his intended rescue party lololol.

I love how smoothly he moves through this whole scene. He's obviously been practicing and of course the Force operates on a principal of "the more at peace and in tune you are with yourself, the greater strength you can channel" so after his whole soul-searching in "Brothers of the Broken Horn" deal he's come to some kind of serenity within himself that lets him be just super awesome here. Love it.

<333333

Chopper immediately rats Ezra out lol.

Kanan reluctant to split up from Ezra, aww.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: The way Ezra raises his hands in aggravation when Kanan and Rex get into it again.

Ezra finally chews the two of them out for all their bickering and takes charge of the mission and you can't even tell me he didn't make Kanan just a smidge proud, with that comment about how, "He takes after Hera sometimes." <3333

No but seriously, fandom of course loves Kanan and Ezra's whole "like my father before me" vibe but let's not forget how it was Hera who first took a shine to him, who saw potential in him, who knew that he wasn't as selfish as he pretended he was, drew out that inner spark of compulsive compassion planted by his parents and has been influencing him on the Rebellion side of things to complement Kanan's Jedi teaching.

Found Family liek woah. :)

Brom Titus looking a little less confident now that the scrawny fifteen-year-old he was specifically cautioned not to underestimate has given them the slip lol.

*cries* He was so TINY!

Very glad Ezra learned binary, it enables hilarious conversations like this.

This is yet another music cue recycled from the Death Star sequence in A New Hope. Like I said, they're really leaning into that this episode.

This little troll I love him so much.

Bit of the "Shenanigans" theme as Chopper rolls up.

Can I just appreciate how well Ezra rolls with blocking shots in zero gravity?

I think Chopper enjoyed all of this a too much lol.

Remember, giving people grief is how Chopper shows affection. :)

Love how they lampshade the terrible vision quality of Stormtrooper helmets.

Sato all ready to square up with this random trooper until he sees it's Kanan.

And his anxious worry over Ezra's welfare is really sweet. Sato does care, he might find Ezra bit aggravating but he's still just a kid in Sato's eyes, someone who was under his protection. (One wonders if Ezra reminds him of Mart a bit.) It's not Sato's fault he's only now learning what a precocious badass Ezra is lol.

This move of Kanan and Rex's is slick.

Lightsaber Naruto run.

I've been told this horn cue is Rex's theme. Makes sense.

Heeeeey remember what I said about Rex's deathseeker tendencies? Yeah.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: The drifting smoke in the hallway from the firefight holy cow. Attention to detail.

"I serve the order you put into place, Captain." Ohhhhhh Imma dent his face in.

*hurts in Order 66 feels*

THEY WERE JUST TOOLS TO PALPATINE, THEY HAD A SINGLE PURPOSE AND HE JUST DISCARDED THEM ONCE IT WAS ACCOMPLISHED.

This Hitchcock Zoom with Kanan as if he's sensing Rex's pain. <33333

Character growth! <33333

Ezra one-manning this hallway with Skill and Confidence. <33333

My gosh look how smooth and effortless this is for him. No wonder Sato was impressed.

Nice to see more classic lightsaber positions creeping into the choreography here.

Ezra being all, "OH HECK NO, THERE WILL BE NO SELF-SACRIFICING TODAY!" over the comms. He's very tired of them doing that lol.

The dolly shots this episode are tight.

Aww Ezra still looks really worried tho.

Don't think about him remembering, "I'll take the next one." and "I'll be right behind you."

Aaaaaaaand Chopper just scored the highest body count on the show, lol. (Up until the finale anyway with the Dome explosion and the purrgil-ening.)

My gosh this show even makes total destruction look pretty.

Yeah, getting a top-secret Interdictor prototype imploded is pretty demotion worthy ha ha.

Love how Kallus is basically perfectly fine assigning all of that chaos to Ezra in particular. XD

KANAN SALUTING REX NOT ONLY AS A SIGN OF FINALLY BURYING THE HATCHET BUT ALSO TAKING UP THE MANTLE OF SOLDIER HE WAS SO RELUCTANT TO AT THE BEGINNING OF THE SEASON.

This is one of the best episodes of the season, no joke. It's fun, it brings the nostalgia without being kitschy, it lets Ezra and Sato have a little bit of nice interaction (underrated relationship, fanficers have let me down), it shows how Ezra's developing in combat, it finishes the whole Rex and Kanan animosity plot, and Chopper murders three whole Imperial cruisers effortlessly.

Love it.

#star wars #star wars rebels #rebels rewatch #liveblog #ezra bridger #agent kallus #space dad and his precious pumpkin child #stan ezra bridger he's great

[futureslaps]

The Captive - Chapter 23

Chapter 22. Chapter 24

After almost a week, it’s finally done! I wrote this chapter in a few spurts, rather than one or two long sessions like I usually write, so apologies if it seems a bit more...disjointed lol. 

Enjoy! 💙

Kiri watched her dad as he stared at the ground between them, clearly deep in thought. Even though she had tears in her eyes, she was fuming from their conversation. Not only had her dad hurt Spider, but now he was acting like he was doing the right thing when he did.

Family has to come first.

The words repeated over and over in her head as she watched her dad. It had taken all her self-control not to snap at him when he’d spoken them, as if Spider was just some stranger he could throw away.

Her father finally looked back up, and Kiri was taken aback when she saw that his own eyes were glistening.

“I’m…I’m sorry, Kiri. I didn’t know it was…like that.”

He sounded defeated, guilty, in a way he didn’t before. Something that she had said had apparently gotten through to him. But his response still upset her.

“How could you not know? How could you not know we cared about Spider?” Kiri pressed, referring to herself and the rest of her siblings.

Jake grimaced.

“No…I mean…I knew, but…” He swallowed. “I didn’t know you saw him as family. I didn’t know he saw us as family.”

Jake put a heavy emphasis on the “us”. After another moment of silence, he spoke again, more quietly.

“Spider…he… looked up to me, didn’t he?”

Kiri nodded, a shred of hope rising in her. Could her dad finally understand?

“You were his hero.” She spoke softly, and the words again caused Jake to close his eyes and look down.

“I thought so.” He replied, resigned. After a moment, he sighed again, his head in his hands.

“I…messed up, Kiri. I’m sorry.”

Kiri recalled what she’d said at the start of the conversation.

“I’m not who you should be saying that to.” Kiri stated with finality.

Jake nodded in acknowledgement.

“I’ll make this right, Kiri. Whatever needs to be done, I’ll do. I promise.”

Her dad sounded truthful, but Kiri struggled to believe him. How many times had he promised to help Spider? What did that word even mean anymore, coming from him?

“You promised before…” She said, making no effort to hide the irritation in her voice.

“I know….” Jake looked guilty. “I did. And I failed. But I know what I did wrong, and this time it will be different. I swear, I want to make this up to you.”

Jake caught himself, and added:

“I want to make this up to Spider.”

Kiri looked down for a moment. He sounded sincere, almost pleading. She wanted to trust him, but she’d been burned before. Yet, something in the way he talked made her think what he was saying was true. That he truly did see Spider in a way he couldn’t before.

Kiri looked back at her father.

“You want to make this right?”

Jake nodded.

Kiri took a breath before continuing.

“Will you apologize to Spider? For everything?”

Jake pursed his lips but nodded.

“I’ll do my best.”

Kiri paused for a moment before what she said next. It was difficult, but she wasn’t going to take any chances. Not after what happened.

“Will you tell mom to stop hurting him? Will you stop her if she tries to do anything to hurt him again?”

Jake closed his eyes at this.

“Kiri…”

“Dad, I mean it. Will you protect Spider? Will you keep him safe?” Kiri’s voice was stern.

Jake stood in silence. For a moment, Kiri actually thought he might refuse…

“I…I’ll try.” He finally spoke. “I’ll talk to your mom.”

Kiri looked at her dad. It hurt to admit, but she wasn’t sure if she could believe any of it after everything…

She had to try. She needed hope that things could be better for her brother.

“Where’s Spider?” Jake asked quietly.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since…yesterday.” It was true. Kiri had spent all night looking for him, with no success.

“Let’s find him. Together.” Jake proposed. “I’ll talk to him right now.”

Kiri hesitated for a moment, before finally nodding.

(…)

Spider watched, almost motionless, as the waves crashed into the beach in front of him. He hadn’t done anything else for much of today. After he’d left his dad, he had returned to the same place he had tried to sleep the night before.

But everything was different.

If the events of yesterday had shown Spider anything, it was that there was nothing left for him here. He could never mend his relationship with the Sullys. He’d been foolish to even think it could happen.

All he had left was his dad. All he wanted was to be with his father.

Spider looked down the beach towards the hut Quaritch was being kept in, barely visible in the fading light. Today, the sight filled him with a new sense of nervousness. The thought of what he was planning to do filled him with dread.

Only a few more hours…

While he was scanning the beach, Spider spotted two figures in the distance. His heart sank when he realized who they were. Jake and Kiri were on the beach, clearly looking for something.

They were looking for him.

Spider considered running off and hiding. The shame and fear were just too great, especially considering what he was planning to do.

But something told him not to. If everything went according to plan, this was the last time he’d see the people he’d grown up around.

If anything, he had to talk to Kiri, just one more time.

Instead of running, he sat in the same place, waiting for them to inevitably spot him.

“Spider!”

He heard Kiri call out and start running to him. Quietly, he braced himself.

Kiri stopped a few feet away from him, careful not to get closer, as if she would scare him away like an animal.

“Spider?”

“Hey Kiri.” Spider answered quietly.

“I looked all over for you last night! Are you…okay?”

The concern in Kiri’s made Spider’s heart sink further. In spite of everything, Kiri couldn’t help trying to help him.

“I’m fine Kiri.” Spider spoke softly again, his voice calm. However, his heart started to race as Jake also approached.

“Hey Kid.” Jake knelt next to Spider, trying to crack a smile.

Spider looked away, unable to meet the man’s eyes. Half of him wanted to just get up and run, escape from the overwhelming guilt that was filling him as he sat next to Kiri and Jake.

Kiri gave Jake a knowing look, and the man shifted to sit in front of him. Spider looked down again.

“Spider…” Jake began, but he stopped and let out a sigh. He pursed his lips, searching for the right words.  

“I…I’m sorry about what happened yesterday. It wasn’t right.”

Jake’s apology filled Spider with more pangs of guilt.

“No, it’s okay. I get it.” Spider replied weakly, trying to assuage Jake’s concern.

But Jake only sighed again, the pained look on his face matching Kiri’s.

“No, kid. It’s not okay. I mean it. I…” Jake paused again. After a moment of hesitation, he put his hand on Spider’s shoulder, making the boy flinch.

“I shouldn’t have let Neytiri treat you like that. Not now, not ever.”

The words were a gut punch to Spider. How much more did he have to hurt the Sullys because of hismistakes?

“You don’t…have to do this.” Spider responded, the words becoming more difficult. “Like I said, I get it.”

Jake grimaced at the reply.

“Oh, Spider. I’m so, so sorry…”

Spider didn’t reply, so Jake continued.

“I should have had this talk with you sooner.  I know I haven’t exactly…helped you. The way I should have.”

Spider kept silent, afraid of what would happen if he tried to speak with the emotions swirling in his head. He needed to keep his composure…

But he couldn’t suppress everything he was feeling. He didn’t know what he was supposed to feel. Should he be guilty? Ashamed? Repentant? Hopeful? All those emotions and more were like a storm inside him as he sat, still looking down as tears started rolling down his cheeks.

“Spider…”

He didn’t resist when Jake pulled him into a hug. He just hung limply in the man’s arms, letting out an involuntary sob.

Why did this have to happen now?

Why did Eywa have to lead him to this moment, just as he had made up his mind?

Jake pulled away and looked at him, meeting Spider’s eyes for the first time in what seemed like ages.

“Leaving you to Quaritch, in the jungle, was the biggest mistake I ever made. You were family, and I abandoned you.”

Spider had to look down again at the words, afraid Jake would somehow see the truth in his face.  

“I…didn’t try to save you, on the ship.” Jake continued. “And I didn’t help you after. I couldn’t see the pain you were in. I’m not going to make any of those mistakes again. I promise.”

Jake used a hand to tilt Spider’s head back up, meeting his eyes again.

“You are family to me Spider. You’re a brother to my children. And…”

Jake hesitated.

“You are… like a son to me. I was too…stupid, too blind to see it, but you’ve always been my family.”

Spider sobbed again, looking away. Until recently, it had been his dream to hear these words, but now, they filled him with guilt, tearing him apart. Jake was not his father. He never could be. Spider had learned that truth the hard way. His dad was imprisoned and waiting for his death.

Jake sensed the conflict in Spider, though he didn’t know the true reason.

“I know what I’ve said now…can’t make up for what I’ve done. But from now, things will be different. Between us. Between you and the rest of my family.” Jake spoke sincerely, but the words were like arrows hitting Spider’s heart.

“I want you to know that I’m here for you. Whatever I can do to make this right, whatever you need, I’ll be there.”

Spider didn’t know how to respond. He wondered if he should just tell Jake the truth outright. He briefly imagined it.

You aren’t my dad, Quaritch is.

Quaritch saved me after you abandoned me in the jungle.

Quaritch saved me from Neytiri on the Sea Dragon while you stood and watched.

Quaritch showed me what it was like to have a parent that cared.

But he couldn’t. Not now.

Besides, Jake would figure it out himself soon enough.

“I…thank you.” Spider replied flatly, but Jake could tell that he was holding something back.

“Spider, if there’s anything you need to talk about…I’m here. You were Quaritch’s prisoner for a long time. I know he’s not …a kind man. Did he…”

Thankfully, Kiri stepped in.

“I don’t think we should talk about this now, dad.” She spoke softly, almost a whisper.

Jake nodded, and Spider breathed a silent sigh of relief.

For some time, all three of them sat in silence.

“Do you…want to eat dinner with me, Spider?” Kiri offered. “It can just be the two of us if you want.”

Spider forced himself to smile.

“I’m fine today, but thank you.”

Another moment of silence.

“Where will you sleep?” Jake chimed in.

“I’ll…” Spider stumbled. He wasn’t planning on sleeping tonight. He didn’t know how to respond.

“I’ll be… in the nook, in the roots. Where I usually sleep, I guess.”

Jake cringed slightly.

“Spider…do you…want to sleep with us? In the Marui?”

Spider practically held his breath. He was truly tempted to accept, but he couldn’t.

He had made his choice already.

“Maybe…maybe some other time.” He managed to blurt out.

Jake nodded, he got up to leave, but looked at Spider again.

“Hey, um…do you have anything to do tomorrow?”

“Not really, I’ll just…be here.” Spider lied through his teeth.

“Want to join me when I head out in the morning?” Jake offered. “I’ll teach you how the Metkayina hunt.”

“Yeah, that sounds great.” Spider offered a fake smile again.

Jake smiled back and nodded.

“Good night, Spider. Kiri, you coming?”

“I’ll stay with Spider a bit more.” Replied Kiri. Jake nodded again, and left for dinner.

Once Jake was out of earshot, Kiri turned to face Spider again. He took a deep breath.

This was it.

“Spider, are you sure you don’t want to eat with us?” Kiri asked gently.

“It’s okay, Kiri.” Spider replied, trying to match her tone. “I just…need to be alone a bit.”

Kiri nodded, sad, but understanding.

“If you want to eat with me, or you want me to be with you when you sleep, just find me. I’ll be there for you. Okay?” She smiled.

“Okay.”

She got up herself and started to leave.

“Kiri?” Spider called after her. She turned her head to face him again. Spider thought about telling her his plan. He knew it would break her heart the most. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He wanted their last conversation to end on a happy note.

“Thank you so much, Kiri. For… everything.”

Kiri turned and crouched in front of him.

“Don’t worry about it, monkey boy. You’re my brother, I’d do it all again.”

Spider smiled sadly, and Kiri smiled back. She turned to leave again, and this time Spider didn’t stop her.

But he did whisper a goodbye under his breath.

Once Kiri was out of sight, he went back to his old shelter and grabbed the knife he’d kept from his chores yesterday. He studied the blade as the last rays from Alpha Centauri faded. It was a small knife, for work, rather than fighting. Luckily, it was perfect for cutting through the thick plants the Metkayina harvested from the reef.

Or the binds and canvas made from them…

What is Spider planning???

Jake is finally stepping in and being what he should have ages ago, but at this point it’s kind of “too little, too late”. Spider already has a father that loves him now...

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Again, apologies if it was kind of disorganized. Luckily, I’m done with the College semester after Monday, so it’ll be back to regular updates until this fic concludes (which isn’t too far away). 

But there’s still a lot that’s going to happen, hope you’re all excited...

Taglist: @buzzing-honeybee @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

#Avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar kiri #avatar jake #avatar quaritch #avatar spider #spider socorro #jake sully #miles quaritch #recom quaritch

[cloud-somersault]

Hey, how are you doing? I hope you’re alright. 💕 I’ve been reading your status updates on Constellations and the Epilogue, and I just wanted to let you know that I think you’re amazing. Your writing is incredible and I love it. Your stories are so well thought out and the characters are ✨on point✨, and the plot is complex and detailed and aaahhh! It has me hooked! 🤩

And I understand how it hurts when you put so much effort and love into a story, only to post it and not see others be anywhere near as excited or invested as you are. I know how discouraging it can be. And it may be a little silly, but I do want to apologize for not commenting lately—life took some difficult turns for me healthwise around the end of last year and I haven’t been able to catch up! I’m still on Chapter 4 of Constellations! 😭 BUT Chapter 5 is open on my phone, and I am READY to read it as soon as I have the time (and mental energy, but that’s a whole ‘nother issue 😩). Don’t worry that your writing isn’t enough, or be discouraged if some readers don’t catch hints while others are figuring it all out seemingly too easily. Everybody reads and comprehends stuff differently, and it’s not a sign that your writing is bad if they don’t catch it! Honestly, I’m pretty bad at catching hints the first time I read a story unless they’re pretty darn obvious. I don’t usually notice subtle hints until the second, or third, or even seventh read-through, haha! (on the bright side, rereading stories and rewatching TV shows is always fun!) 😅

I guess what I really wanted to say is… don’t give up hope. Don’t lose your love and enthusiasm for your works, or feel like they aren’t worth writing because others don’t seem interested in them. At the heart of it all… at the end of the day… write because you love to. Because it makes you happy. And know that it doesn’t have to be “perfect”—the main goal should be that you enjoy it. That’s something I’m trying to teach myself, too. 💕

Thank you for taking the time to write this message and send it. I appreciate you're very kind words 💕I'm doing okay, I just had to take a step back for a bit from socials and stuff. I'm gonna keep that up for a while.

Please don't apologize for not commenting or taking your time reading. Your health always comes first, and I'm sorry if I came off as childish or needy, that wasn't my intention. Two things just happened that set me off and the timing of it was incredibly poor 😓

Please take your time reading; none of it is going anywhere, and don't feel obligated to leave comments either. i'm realizing that, even if chapters are short or long, finding the time to finish things is difficult, and everyone lives different lives. And I'm sorry about all the spoilers on this blog, I'll tag that better from now on.

But I really do think I got confused or disjointed in my perceptions; everyone here knows so much because i've been asked questions and given answers and people have interacted, so people following me here have more context than the average ao3 user. But I've kinda been expecting everyone to be on the same page, which will never be true.

I'm also the same way where it takes me a while to pick up on hints. I actually changed my writing style to prevent this. I got tired of reading books in college where you had to dive into every little thing. the hints and clues weren't obvious to me. I decided then that, when I wrote, I wanted things to be bold, obvious, but beautiful. I didn't want to make readers feel like they're missing something. I wanted them to trust that every answer, every clue would be answered in time. I made that promise to myself a decade ago, and being reminded of how different people interpret things just...made me remember.

I take writing really seriously, probably too seriously, but I've been doing it for so long and I love doing it. I want to be good at it. When it feels like I've gone back on that promise to myself, I get frustrated. I think of ways I could've fixed things. But I also remember that those books and those writing styles just weren't for me. I wasn't the target audience.

Sorry to go off on a tangent, but I wanted to explain why I got upset. I still love Constellations and I'm posting it on ao3 out of convenience, really. It's easier to reference and search there in one "Entire Work" than to have 5 documents open. The fact that others can see and read and have fun is a bonus. But I'm committed to telling this story, and I'm gonna finish with a bang.

Thank you, I won't forget why I'm doing this and that my thoughts/feelings come first! 😤I hope your health concerns are taken care of soon. Take it easy, and thanks again! 💕

#ask #this is very kind i'm sorry i worried people i was just REAL upset/mad #but i'm better now. i just needed to take a minute and refocus and remind myself of a few things #we're still chugging along #but seriously thank you for sending this. i'm really glad you like constellations! that means a lot to me #but seriously--health comes first. and DON'T FEEL PRESSURED TO COMMENT!!! 😤 #okay love you bye~ 💕

[eldritchpenguin44]

Wow. This is honestly my new favorite episode of Helluva Boss! This episode was amazing! This episode just reaffirms Fizzarolli as my favorite character in this show. I feel so bad for him. He had to deal with creepy and toxic stalker fans even before he became Mammon’s icon and constantly has to live up to Mammon who doesn't give a single shit about him if he’s not making money or being a perfect object in Mammon’s eyes. Speaking of Mammon I hate him as a person but love him as a villain. As a Villain he’s just as despicable as the King/Embodiment of Greed can only care about Money, Profits, etc without caring what Fizz wants and even putting pressure on him and causing anxiety to Fizz if he isn’t perfect. Taking a break from talking about Mammon let’s talk about Asmodeus.

Asmodeus And Fizzarolli might be the best relationship in this entire show on par with Moxxie and Millie. I love how caring and understanding Ozzie is with Fizz and just wants to best for him not caring about his status or his reputation.

Fizz’s song near the end was the best thing and my current favorite song. Him letting out all of his frustrations and giving a big fuck you to Mammon was the best thing. Him finally realizing that his idol is a piece of shit and finally freeing himself from the shackles of Mammon by quitting is the best thing to happen to Fizzarolli.

Mammon’s anger form was just amazing with the design and seeing Asmodeus also turn into his anger form to defend his love was amazing! I’m really hoping we eventually get a sin vs sin battle in the show soon.

Wonder what happen in the series going forward.

Also, I like that Blitzø and Fizz actually did rekindle their friendship and Blitzø looked out for Fizz and tried to help him. Blitzø Killing the creepy toxic stalker fan was my favorite part of the episode by far the most satisfying kill.

Another favorite part for me was Fizzarolli’s interaction with one of his fans. This moment made my heart melt.

Sorry if this post seems disjointed and all over the place I just have so many thoughts and feelings about this episode that I can’t put into words right now.

Overall this is my current New Favorite episode being 9/10 and I can’t wait to see what the team has in store for next year!

#helluva boss #mammon #helluva boss fizzarolli #fizzarolli #helluva boss mammon #helluva boss asmodeus #Asmodeus #blitzø #Helluva boss Blitzø

[zenosanalytic]

Just finished The Archive Undying by Emma Mieko Candon, and in general I liked it.

I think it's a Gr8 setting(more scifi/fantasy stories pulling on non-western inspirations, plz) and a Gr8 PERSPECTIVE on a Gr8 setting(bscl everyone in it is a refugee, and it takes place almost entirely within refugee communities), and a wonderful take on Mecha, a genre you don't usually see in novels, in the metaphysically Weird Evangelion vein(which you don't often see, or see done well, in Mecha, Period). I love how unabashedly queer it and its world is, that it's a M/M/M story that isn't disinterested in, oblivious of, or actively hostile to female characters, and that all of it's characters are so MESSY and Real in their own unique ways. I love it's Compassion. It engages deeply with "faith" in all its variegated meanings in a really interesting and sustained way(tho unfortunately not one that grabbed me as powerfully as The Locked Tomb's approach to these topics does). I thought it did a Really Good Job of expressing thought, confusion, and overwhelming, shifting experiences through text. It has ALLOT of wonderful, subtle worldbuilding in it which I really adore; like the bit ~halfway through the book were a cheeky fondly-mocking comment from one character to another implies that "hermit" can also mean "homosexual" in this setting.

I DID have a hard time getting into it though. It picks up in the second half, but getting through the first half was a bit of a slog for me and I fell asleep allot(tbf: I've also been SUPER BUSY and dealing with numerous Events, so I didn't have allot of time to read and it took me FOREVER to finish this one, so maybe that was a consequence of how disjointed my reading experience was). I'm also willing to accept that getting me to care about such a male-focused story these days is a bit of an uphill battle, tho I don't have that problem with Temeraire so maybe I just didn't vibe well with the protagonist, or I'm being too hard on myself.

Part of it, though, I felt is just how resistant to being understood this book is. Not, like, in a thematic sense, that's all pretty clear, but in a Plot-events sense. Allot of stuff happens very quickly with not much explanation until the very end of the book(by which time you may have ceased to care about an explanation for it), and it relies heavily on Implication; on people Understanding things and acting on them without that being explained to the reader. If that's something you enjoy I think you'll dig this, but if it's something that annoys you, or if you don't like reading books that seem to actively "resist" you, then this is probably not for you. I also feel like(I don't want to be explicit about this as it might be spoilery) particular Shocking Discoveries in the last quarter or so of the book make its world much smaller, kind of undoing the worldbuilding done in the first three-quarters of it? I also-also feel like there are just TOO MANY TWISTS at the end, like: it got exhausting for me how many Reversals of Fortune didn't stop keep happening, though I suppose that's pretty true to its very obvious Anime/Manga roots/inspirations.

Overall though I enjoyed the read! It's being presented as the first in a series so I hope it does well enough to see the future stories Candon wants to tell in this setting get a genuine release ^v^

#Emma Mieko Candon #The Archive Undying #SciFi #Mecha #zA Reads #zA Reviews #Book Reviews #zA Writes #Our Staff #The Dreaded Animes