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sevenpoyo · 9 months

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school headcanons for because i only got 3 more weeks

margo’s is so long even tho she got like 2 minutes of screen time bc i love her so much and she’s my gf

Margo Kess, 1610Miles, 42Miles, Gwen Stacy, Pavitr Prabhakar

margo kess / spiderbyte

ain’t shorty on zoom in the movie?

my girl dont attend class, she once shut down the entire blocks power so she would have an excuse to not be in class

eats in class all class everyday, only shares with you

takes really good notes and never studies them

like???? ma’am??? share???

all her electives are programming related and she pretends to busy while playing centipede all day

sends you 50 links to stuff you might like while ur in math

she got papers that let her opt out of gym

no matter how much you beg ur gonna be alone in gym and she doesn’t feel bad about it

popular with no friends type

like everyday 50 ppl stop you both and say hi

she only knows like 5 of their names she can’t stand half of them niggas

empty ass backpack like she got one notebook and one binder

all a’s and b’s like bitch how

her memory is absolutely ass but she can remember every story you told her or stuff that happened when y’all hang out

don’t ask her what she did in her class

don’t ask her if her class also has a history test

she don’t know

she don’t care

but she do know that when you were 8 your cousin burned ur thigh while y’all were playing iron vs knife fight

(u were dumb as hell for picking knife everyone knows iron always wins)

i looked it up on her word everybody uses those virtual avatars

she’ll shit on your class choices so damn hard

she just likes making fun of your choices fr

like half of ur conversation go;

damn i’m tired

u was up doing stupid shit last night you don’t get to complain

stfu that’s why ur a bitmoji

that’s why ur granny beat ur ass for something your brother did when you were 9

i hate telling u shit

then stop telling me shit

(i have no clue how accurate this is to her character but i need to write about her i’m in love but damn it’s long)

1610 miles / spider-man 2 lmao

book bag full locker full but never has a pencil

writes notes assignments and homework in paint pen ink don’t ask this nigga for notes

(he gets nigga treatment but not my queen margo bc i got favorites)

he miss mad classes but somehow still solid attendance record???

somehow always present in the record he miss 40 days and get caught on like 6 of them

unless his mom make breakfast and lunch on her day off for him he eating the most random shit from the bodega closest to visions

like what do you mean you got a cosmic brownie and a cold chopped cheese from last night ? it’s literally 7 in the morning no i don’t want none

makes you hype him up every time he slap boxes people and he’s so ass at it

he be ashy with no lotion atleast 5 times every month it’s embarrassing

he calls visions his white people school to his parents and his friends

once he said it to gwen and they sat in literal complete silence for like 10 minutes

prolly took music theory because he thought it would be easy and switched out of that shit so fast

i’d be so mean to him for enjoying physics

like this nigga trying to make something of him self

lil einstein ass nigga

he understands color theory but can’t explain it

12 half full sketchbooks but at school he literally draw on computer paper he don’t let the sketch book leave his bag

i know he’s ass at watercolor, he always spills shit, the colors always end up brown

try’s to be interested in your class choices bc he wants to know stuff he can talk about with you

when you first meet he can’t take meaner jokes bc he thinks that you mean them

but one day he’s gets comfortable, and brutal

no one in your life is safe when he looses a video game

except your mom

rio taught him better than that

42 miles / the prowler

comes to school with no school related supplies in his bag unless you count art stuff

finds a pencil on his way to class

has a change of clothes, rat tail comb, 3 bottles of water, a camera, a flashlight, lotion and cocoa butter.

like bro ur going to Ap Art not a camping trip

once he pulled out a griddle and and pancake mix and y’all started making pancakes in class

forgets his metro pass every day and gets so pissed ab it

runs into people in the hallway bc he’s never paying attention

idk if he goes to visions but if he does he calls it his white people school with his full chest to anybody even if they’re white

he be leaving halfway through the day all the time like bro you miss algebra 2 every damn day

uncle arron always talking him out of school with some bullshit reason

bro’s had his tonsils out 8 times on the school’s records

He will get ur parents to put his uncle on ur pickup list and you will be out of there with him

he will YELL if someone step on his shoes no matter what the situation like the school could be on fire and he fighting in the burning building

also his uniform is so pristine

his pants stiff

that button down is bleached ironed pressed and allat

this mfer is an online shopping addict u just know he be on amazon in class

will offer you the weirdest food combos like no i don’t want to put tajin mangoes on my beef patty i’m sick of you nigga

not school related but he’s super good with kids (both miles fr) but he’s the #1 little cousin defender and apologists

he ride for them always one of ur little cousins could sucker punch u and he be like

‘they just want u to play with them’

he takes a preforming arts class for fun prolly

loves sports but doesn’t play one understands the stats well and would help if you played one

wakes up at the asscrack of dawn on weekends

SICK ASS COSTUME FOR HOLLOWEEN IK THIS NIGGA LOVE HOLLOWEEN

plans costumes for school spirit weeks but always checks to seen if he’s gonna be the only one wearing a costume for it

never eats lunch unless his mom makes it he be hungry all day and be complaining

his socks are never in uniform (yes some uniform schools have sock rules)

gwen stacy / spider woman / ghost spider

idk what to call her

she has every snack you could ever want in her lunch bag

hates her music theory teacher

she literally has the most pristine locker with a calendar and a mirror and all that shit will write down test for you and important dates for the both of you

goes to school plays and shits on the story, like she ain’t pay 5 dollars to be there

some of her teachers hate her

like ma’am ur beefing with a whole 16 year old rn

she hate english teachers but love creative writing teachers

she keeps all her books in her locker never brings them home never brings them to class

always comes through with an extra pad no matter what

she also always has hand sanitizer

in like 4 extracurricular after school things and complains so bad

ur starting to hate that shit to ur sick of hearing it like girl quit then

10/10 cameraman she has every fight and every drama in 10khd and she will share them if you ask

she chews her pens and nails

has her drumsticks out always teachers have banned her from taking them to their classes

can watch tv on her phone but look focused you think she’s paying attention but then you look over and she’s watching good luck charlie

pavitr prabhakar / spider-man india

always late for class never in trouble

always eating and sharing food and never in trouble

how is he blessed like this? it ain’t fair

eats from the school vending machines or begs other ppl to share

will always have and share the homework answers no matter what he’s an angel

his sock always have holes in them like sir please get that shit together

gym try hard ik goes insane in football/soccer

very encouraging for shit u don’t wanna do he believes in you

you him and Gayatri talk so much shit but are somehow all well liked

he tells you what teachers are dating (he can just tell)

he has toothpaste in his bag for some reason?? i can just feel this one

his aunt will let you come over after school she’s so sweet to you.

always got a job at school assemblies

he’s reading poems or shaking hand or leading in the school pledge or something

Pav’s is short because i have no fucking clue if school in India is different form america and Barbados

#miles morales x reader #42 miles morales #margo kess x reader #gwen stacy x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr my beloved #atsv x reader #atsv spoilers #spider byte x reader #the prowler x reader #42 miles morales x reader

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byghostface · 1 month

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//long rambling

There is a vent in the last part (about pro ship:/+ wired shipping + block list) it's naturally negative so reading at your own risk.

So in the new Batman and Robin issue #7 Nika's sister making an appearance, got me thinking of other possibilities for sibling characters to come back.

Mostly I’m thinking about Respawn since he is Joshua Williamson's own character. And He made Respawn appeared in the last issue of Robin(2021), he also brought back Mara in that run too (just some appearance in the later issue).

And now Joshua Williamson is writing Batman and Robin, so naturally he can bring some characters back in this run. He had said in an interview that he might have figured out a way(try) to bring back Maya.

Throwback to 2022 of this old wip/art I made, is about what I think the emo teens of Lazarus squad dynamic would look like.

I imagine Nika and Respaw are irritated/tolerate with each other but would stay for Damian because Nika is Damian's girlfriend and they want to stick together. Meanwhile, Damian likes to include his half-brother in some fun activities (Respawn is acting reluctant bc of his own issues but he actually likes to have friends and feel include).

I haven’t finished this art bc I was going to add more wips (with other characters like Rose and Hawke) to make it a post. I didn't finish this art back then bc I was afraid Talia fans would be mad at me for drawing Respawn.

Trust me, I hate that Talia gets associated with Deathstroke like this, but I think Respawn is a confused/mistreated teen character and Damian (bless his heart and soul) still wants to be his brother regarding the whole mess. I will explain/talk more about my thoughts on Respawn as a character and his situations once I finish these drawings and get ready to post them.

Writing/typing words is harder than drawing for me personally. Drawing is like channeling my energy into a picture and forming an atmosphere and hopefully people will understand what thoughts and feelings I was trying to convey. Writing is using more brain powers to choose the correct and cohesive words, so people would not misunderstand what I'm talking about. Especially when English is not my first language, and even so I normally don't talk(write) much in my mother tongue either…(I'm not a quick thinker, it took me a longer time to think things through, writing literally exhausted me physically and mentally more than drawing.)

It doesn't mean I don't enjoy writing, it's just not my first choice to convey thoughts… but considering I can't draw everything I have in my mind and it takes even longer time to finish any art, I just need to write down things first from now on. Tumblr is the only place I can think of that has this longer text feature blog post and I'm more familiar with this platform format. So I will still be here posting my fan content.

(↓Vent, if you want to avoid being block by me then read down below.)

I must say I will forever hate respawn x flatline as ship, cus I know who started this ship and their reasons behind it—Don’t let the new character develop naturally as the story goes, let’s put them in made-up weird situations first so I can prop up my own ship!😍 And get both of the new characters out of the way, since no one would defend them so I can fanon the hell out of them by making them look bad all around!🤞 (What if I stone you first hand🪨🪨💥)

And I will continue to dislike/against any shipping Damian's sibling to Nika. I simply don't like the unnecessary sibling conflict just for romance tropes! So go away boooo I hate you‼️ Not to mention the ignoring of different age range multi-ship hide behind poly… that's straight up proshipping I hate you even more!!👎

Also for people who said Nika should be crush on Damian's mother instead of him… I hate you twisted proshipper rotten smooth brain‼️‼️ She dating a boy her age and has mutual connections with him, why would she crush on her boyfriend's mother instead?? Just because Nika is a big fan of Talia??? So you telling me young ppl can't idolize adults normally without being labeled as romantic nowadays huh??( Not saying you can't crush on adults, but why crush on your boyfriend's mom? ) Your weird ass mind is showing with this ass hc be fr. Again, why would you imagine that? You just wanted to push a fake narrative of Nika being wired so you could have an excuse to make Talia and Damian dislike her (which is not true), but in fact is YOU are the weird one projecting your twist thoughts/hate onto Nika‼️💥🪨🪨

I will start to block ppl who are shipping/liking respawn x flatline (+proshipper) and STILL interact with me, read the room!! My art is not for you weirdos‼️Go away BOOOO💥 🪨🪨🪨💥💥

Can't believe I need to type this all out cuz some of you weirdos will still do these things and think is okay to interact with me and my post/showing in my notifications BOOO👎🪨🪨💥🪳🪳🪳🩴🩴🩴

(sorry for venting about random weirdos/Nika haters again, and thanks for reading.)

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iheartgod175 · 2 months

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Some Thoughts (Mostly ZP, but still)…

—I’ve kinda hopped back onto the Zula Patrol train again since writing Turnabout, but I am planning on doing art and stories for other fandoms, too, of course ^^ I actually worked on chapter 4 of DCR and some more of Love Language for the first time in a month! Which is amazing progress since I had both writer’s block and worries that maybe a lot of folks aren’t interested in the story. But even if that were true, it’s not going to stop me from posting stories, especially about my favorite childhood show ^^

—I went a bit in depth about an OC who gets some focus in both DCR and a few other entries, Firestorm, who’s a military commander in one of the other Zulean branches (I’ll detail my own headcanons on the structure of the Zulean government in another headcanons post) and is one of the few people that Bula gets along with outside of his team because like him, she doesn’t tolerate the BS/corruption that goes on in the government. And somehow, I got the idea that in an alternate universe, they end up as a couple. It has me cracking up because now, I have three potential love interests for Bula: Zeeter (with whom I can see happening even in canon), Bonnie (my old OC whom I’ve revamped and even have a solo story for), and now Firestorm (who might get teased in the future). Bula’s literally building his own harem, LOL XD

—And then it got me thinking that if Bula’s a typical “clueless harem protagonist” (although unlike them, he makes himself useful and isn’t admired due to some random skill he has out of nowhere), Ricochet would be the “smug harem protagonist with a heart of gold” in that he dated Denise, Diane, Melissa, and many other women before he settled down. Also, in a few AUs, he does have a better relationship with Serena, Denise’s outlaw sister, and their relationship borders on UST. Silly thoughts are silly, LOL

—I’ve also had an idea regarding the Third Sight ability. Originally, this ability has no offensive capability in any field whatsoever. But then I had a thought: what if there was a way, theoretically, that a user could hurt/even kill someone with their mind? It came about from a thought that DS! Elfilis (with whom Multo interacts with in my latest crossover) could totally do this easily, since he’s basically seen as a god (although he’s mortal) and he’s a lot more powerful/experienced with his psychic powers. Not to mention that between him and Multo, his cruel streak is not only bigger, but also more terrifying. It got me thinking that the Zuleans who have the Third Sight can do this same thing, namely in a moment of pure distress/fury, stemming from the desire to make the perpetrator feel every ounce of pain they felt at watching their loved one get hurt/killed. The name for this attack is called “Flashpoint” (or at least, it’s a working idea for a name). I had the idea that Multo accidentally stumbles across this ability after someone got the great (read: stupid) idea to hurt Zeeter or any of the others in front of him, and unable to physically defend them (due to being trapped), he’s filled with both horror at his loved ones being hurt, and pure rage at the perp, wanting nothing but for him to feel that same pain and worse. Cue that happening to the perp, with the guy literally losing his mind. With Multo being the kind of person he is, he’s shocked/horrified that he can do such a thing. One of the villains in my current WIP, Nova, takes an interest in Multo after finding out about him using this.

—And now, a part of me wants to do an alternative version of Multo that’s evil. That would be pretty terrifying. O.O

—Oh, I’m also thinking of getting back to The Return of the Phantom Empire soon, thanks to working on Firestorm’s profile. Just trying to work on the general plot of the side story, which focuses on Quick Draw McGraw, and possibly Quack-Up, namely in regards to the trauma he suffered before he joined the Galactic Guardians. This chapter isn’t gonna be quite as long as the first three chapters, but that might change, lol XD

#zula patrol #the zula patrol #hanna-barbera #ricochet rabbit #ramblings #canon x oc ships

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cannibalovers · 3 months

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Hannibal song of the day : song no. 5

a bit about the song:

"Breezeblocks"(released in 2012) is song by alt-J, written by Thom Sonny Green, Gwilym Sainsbury, Gus Unger-Hamilton & Joe Newman(the whole group), most likely their most popular song. It starts off mellow and quiet guitar, interchanging between build ups and drops with synthesisers and a lot of deep bass, drums and other percussion instruments till the end of the song, which ends with an arrangement of overlapping vocals, like a choir. It fits genres like indie rock, indie pop, art rock and folktronica. The song itself tells a story of two lovers, where one of them wants to leave the relationship, feeling unsafe and unfulfilled but the other is obsessive and deranged and so in love that they don't let the other leave, the desire and love being so strong that they dare to hurt their lover and themselves just to make them stay. There can be another meaning to the song when taking the music video into the account(that the group themselves said is kind of different but managed to fit the vibe), which is filmed in reverse, presenting a narrative where a man kills a woman(maybe an ex or smth) who was most likely keeping his wife hostage. Since the chain of events is presented in reverse, it looks as if the man is the abusive lover trying to kill his wife, although by the end we find out he was actually defending his wife and killed the woman that kidnapped his wife, sending a message to not judge a book by its cover - don't assume and judge until you know the full story. It also references a book "Where the Wild Things Are" by Maurice Sendak, talking about a young boy who misbehaved badly at home and got scolded for it. His hostile and intense emotions sent him to an imaginary jungle with creatures called "The Wild Things". In this world, he feels appreciated and powerful as the wild things make him a king, but as soon as he realises the responsibilities a king has are hard, he wants to leave and go back home, to his loving mother who took care of him and coudl depend on, but the creatures don't want him to leave, threatening cannibalism (woah i wonder why I am writing this), saying "Oh, please don’t go! We’ll eat you whole! We love you so!". The band thought of it as a very powerful image and referenced these words in the song. In the end, the boy does manage to get away, unlike the lover of this song.

yeah sorry for the long intro to the song um. i've loved this song for years I swear I could listen to it forever so.

overall the song creates such a chilling mix between aggression and affection it's just so fucking insane and well. very hannigram. I think that was expected. Tbh i feel like it's prob known to fannibals, i made a post once asking ppl for song recommendations for hannibal and this song has shown up a few times and honestly? it fits them SO. WELL. especially when you think about the whole mizumono episode. The music video reminded me of mizumono a lot... so I'll be basing this on that episode a lot...

Pardon me for the pain i'm gonna provide today<3

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Verse 1

"She may contain the urge to run away But hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks"

The girl doesn't want to be in the relationship with the man anymore, maybe recognizing that he is not in a good state of mind or she just believes they're not fit for each other anymore, whichever it is, she is contemplating getting out of the relationship, which she feels trapped in, or the man feels like he's scaring her away, hence her "running away"; He doesn't like this, being way too attached for her, he can't just let her run away after the comfort she brought him and the strong emotions he developed towards her, so he decided to weigh her down (literally) by drowning her with breezeblocks. Metaphorically, Breezeblocks are blocks used for building houses and are supposed to represent foundation here, so perhaps he has been making her stay by guilt tripping her about everything that they have built together and the fact that she can't just "leave behind" the trust, support, stability and safety that they have gained from each other - the foundation of their relationship. After she wasn't giving her idea of leaving up, he decided to actually weight her down with their foundation in forms of breezeblocks. In my eyes, the soggy clothes could also have a little bit of meaning, soggy clothes being quite uncomfortable and probably clinging to her(just like he does) - perhaps they're soggy from the times he was guilt tripping her, perhaps tears were shed and her clothes getting soggy just represent the manipulation and fakeness of them, or the severity of the situation and how long it has been going on and how this has affected her (made her feel heavy at heart and uncomfortable)

I think these lyrics summarise THE monologue in Mizumono and hannigram's plans quite perfectly. Will wanting to run away (from hannibal unfortunately...) and as Hannibal realised his plan of betrayal, reacted very aggressively by literally gutting him (sogging his clothes with blood ig) and breaking down the foundation they have built, more or so with words, but also the knife he uses. At this point I have no idea if its a linoleum knife (knife used for building, houses, rugs and FOUNDATIONS OF A BUILDING.) or a kerambit or smth else but I'll stick to the linoleum here(also check out this post about his choice for the knife, it drives me fucking insane) and say that this is how Hannibal tears down the foundation they have built together. Not only does he gut him, he talks to Will about how betrayed he feels that he was planning to leave him, after letting Will see him, after building this foundation of trust and support for each other. Hannibal was there, understanding Will and offering support and stability and he saw that Will could provide it for him back, which he chose to do only to get closer to him to betray him and take away his happiness (Will...) and stable, carefully crafted life he had. Will was something very important to Hannibal, a person that changed him and made him feel love for once, and then he lied about accepting him. He can't handle losing Will so he would make him stay and tear him down, hurt him, if that's what it would take.

"Cetirizine, your fever’s gripped me again Never kisses, all you ever send are fullstops (La la la la)"

Citrizine is a medicine used for fevers, suggesting the man is so obsessed with her that she makes him ill and stressed (overheated and overwhelmed and overthinking, hence the fever) and he needs medicine. She is constantly rejecting him, rejecting his affections and never giving any to him but instead stopping him, although it can also allude to texts, her not ending them with "xx" (kisses) but with full stops, being quite cold and distant with him.

well first, for the show it can allude to how Hannibal literally gave Will a fever and the amount of aspirin Will took cuz of that if we take this literally, but that mean the roles would have to switch so, instead in my eyes I think of how bothered and overwhelmed Will probably made Hannibal feel the more interested and obsessive he got over Will. I can't imagine how many times this man probably thought of him everyday and overthought stuff (jesus seriously hes obsessed) and how ill and diseased (although alive) Hannibal probably felt (maybe diseased and ill after he knew Will's plan...); the affections the girl is rejecting from her lover could represent how distant Will was with Hannibal at first.

"Do you know where the wild things go? They go along to take your honey (La la la la)"

This is a reference from the book "Where the Wild Things Are". The band suggested that the lyrics are about jealousy, the protagonist being jealous of other people who are catching his lovers attention instead of him, maybe this is a conversation between them about this concern, telling his lover that those people are bad and will use her and leave her(take away her honey); Maybe he's trying to convince her that he would never do that - although he technically is, eating away at whatever support and love(the honey) she has to offer for him.

I feel like this presents why Hannibal decided to isolate Will in the first place, taking away everything from him (or at least how he wants Will to see it, as we know that he was just trying to make his plan come true and return some of the things Will cared about so much). He saw everything that Will had interest in (Alana, Abigail, although he kept her for Will, Margot's child etc) as a threat to his plan of having Will all to himself and so he took them away - because he believed that they were both bad for Will but also because they were not in Hannibal's best interest. Also doesn't he like kill Will's wife in season 3 idk yet dont tell me

"Break down, now weep, build up breakfast Now let’s eat, my love, my love, love, love (La la la la)"

This probably references the many fights the couple had and protagonist's method of trying to make it up to her by trying to get back into a loving, normal routine, forgetting the fights, doing things such as letting her sleep it off and making a breakfast, starting the day over - The breakfast being his love for her. This is most likely to say that acts of service for her would be his love language and he would feel loved if she accepted his services, as well as offerings(his love) he makes for her.

for Hannibal:

do i like. have to explain this one

first of all lets be real cooking and making ppl commit accidental cannibalism is his love language (even better when they are aware of it and accept it knowingly so u dont have to make them commit accidental cannibalism to feel like u're normal for enjoying it and ure not a monster and God didn't punish u by making u eat ur own sister and enjoy it and that they accept and understand u for this and are def not doing it as a manipulation tactic to get u closer to them... that's not smth Will would do to Hannibal wdym)

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Chorus

"Muscle to muscle and toe to toe The fear has gripped me, but here I go My heart sinks as I jump up Your hand grips hand as my eyes shut And I, ah-ah-ah-ah"

The chorus seems to depict the the physical fight going between the two lovers. The protagonist doesn't seem to be in his right mind as he says that even though the fear tried to stop him, he has lost control and is now hurting his loved one (or himself) - His fear of rejection making him not handle this situation well and taking the last leap of faith to "save" the relationship by physically forcing her into it. The harm can either be to himself or her, maybe threatenening suicide and her gripping his hand to stop him, or him hitting her and her trying to deflect his hand with her own.

For Hannibal, it's literally,,gutting Will. Or any physical fight or holding each other at gun point or any murder attempt they had. In mizumono, Hannibal is visibly heartbroken by Will's decisions, maybe regretting the choices hes about to take. Maybe for once he felt some fear hurting another person, the person being Will, but he pushes through it, knowing it had to be done, to show Will how he made him feel. The physical contact in this chorus could represent the hug that they shared (the most heartbreaking hug in tv history). His feelings seem to contrast with the violence in that scene so much it makes me so fucking depressed

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Verse 2

"[...}She bruises, coughs, she splutters pistol shots Hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks"

The words have a violent imagery to them, maybe to show the lover fighting back and still not agreeing to stay, maybe even trying to hurt him, her words feeling like pistol shots to him, or it could represent her drowning, trying to catch a breath. If that's what is happening, then he tries to remind himself of his point and to not help her, because she will run away - it's better to hold her down and make her stay.

Will's most common weapons is a gun or his hands and words, so i guess it fits his image quite well(not to mention the amounts of time he held Hannibal at gun point lol). These clearly never seemed to have affected Hannibal (until the last supper) and he continues through with his plan of taking everything away from Will, showing what he has lost by not staying by Hannibal's side.

"She’s morphine, queen of my vaccine My love, my love, love, love (La la la la)"

The protagonist compares her to morphine, a drug used to help with pain - clearly he is very dependent on her and uses her for emotional stability and support, losing that would make him insecure and breakdown, he can't lose her after the vulnerability he shared with her. This also fits with the expression "Love is a drug", which to him, her love is clearly like a drug, he has become obsessed, needing her love all the time, addicted to her, suggesting the intensity of emotions she makes him feel and just how obsessed he is - that's why he can't let her go.

The contrast between the dark, violent and destructive comparisons he makes of her, ignoring those destructive feelings and calling her his "love" really deepens the juxtaposition between aggression and affection the song potrays and shows just how blind the protagonist is.

I feel like this fits Hannibal's feelings about Will quite well, considering how obsessed he is with him, to the point of destruction and isolating him to have him all to himself (and also the fact that my man was CRYING after putting Will in prison, missing their therapy sessions. LIKE BITCH). He really puts Will high up on a pedestal, suggesting just how important and addictive Will is to him and how dependent he has become on Will after opening up to him, maybe even feeling like Will numbs his pain and loneliness of never being accepted for who he actually was.

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Verse 3

"[...]Germolene, disinfect the scene, my love, my love, love, love But please don't go, I love you so, my lovely"

This is the aftermath of the protagonist killing his lover. He realises that he killed her, getting an anticeptic(clearly unprepared for this and panicking, using some at-home antiseptic instead of something proper) to disinfect the scene off of his DNA. The realisation quickly hits him of what he has done, making him spiral into a breakdown as he realises that his actions didn't make her stay, they made her dead forever.

Hannibal clearly doesn't disinfect the scene in mizumono, he doesn't even wear his plastic suit or use the cloth that he always uses to not leave finger prints, there was no point in hiding anything anymore, Will helped FBI see through him, although we do see him "cleansing" himself off of the events by walking in the rain and trying to "comfort" Will, telling him to "wade into the quiet of the stream". I don't think these specific lyric apply to the situation much disinfection-wise, although it can represent Hannibal's state of mind, especially after realising everything he has done and the regret that came with it(does he feel guilty tho? i have no idea but the begging and love confessions in this line def represent his obsession and love for Will which left him very heartbroken after everything that was done)

also could represent Will........ him wanting to turn back, if he could only reverse time, undo the events so Abigail lives and everyone else lives..............ouch

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Refrain

"Please don't go, please don't go I love you so, I love you so Please don't go, please don't go I love you so, I love you so Please break my heart (Hey!) Please don't go, please don't go I love you so, I love you so Please don't go, please don't go I love you so, I love you so Please break my heart[...]"

the most beautiful part of the song in my opinion tbh. The layers, the build up, the overlapping vocals, it's all just so overwhelming and emotional and vulnerable.

the protagonist spirals, realising what he has done but not wanting it to be true, he's not ready yet to let go of his lover, slowly, he's losing self control and giving into his violent desires, he threatens cannibalism if she goes away(she can't really do anything my dude...) as he frantically confessse to her that he loves her. He just loves her so much and needs her so much, the desire is so strong that he will consume her if it means that she stays right beside him(or inside him), craving that impossible closeness, it's a way to forever remain with a loved one. This whole refrain is just so incredibly contradicting and depressing and desparate its insane

now, it's no secret that Hannibal doesn't want to let Will go and even consume him. He wants him to live but at the same time he wants to taste him, devour him. To love is to consume, but to consume is to devour and transform in reusable energy. He wants him as close as possible and for Will to accept his desires and give himself up, let him be his - but clearly that's not what Will wanted (yet).

...This one is so straightfoward especially considering Hannibal that I don't even know what to say really. The song itself just says it all perfectly.

in conclusion they are fucking insane for this and breezeblocks is the ultimate hannigram (specifically mizumono) song. 11/10

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additional notes:

was so excited for this one but i actually wrote less than i thought wow but maybe thats also cuz most of the song repeats. or im tired

idk if its cuz i literally dont know how to explain cannibalism as a metaphor of love or why but. at the same time the song just describes pretty well on its own

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my playlist

hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading<3

38 notes · View notes

separatist-apologist · 1 year

Text

Cowboy Like Me

Never thought I'd meet you here

Summary: When Nesta is stranded in rural Montana, she finds herself rescued by an unlikely pair.

Day 1 of @sjmromanceweek: Meet-Cute

Also, check out this art of Cowboy Cassian from @melphss

Read on AO3

Nesta was in hell.

Who got married in Montana? Montana seemed like the sort of place you exiled people to die in lonely misery. She didn’t give a fuck about all the open sky, the clean air, or the nature that quite literally ambled up to her rental car looking for a snack. Nesta wasn’t built for this sort of life and maybe it said something about her that she couldn’t imagine anyone else who was.

She’d made a mistake, though. When she’d rented her airbnb, she’d just assumed it was an actual home, like the pictures had depicted, and not some ramshackle hovel with a literal hole in the ground for shitting.

For fifty dollars a night, she supposed she deserved that. Nesta thought that maybe she also deserved her twisted ankle. Heels on a gravel road had been an obvious mistake—was she supposed to go barefoot? She hadn’t brought anything else. Nesta emitted a soft scream of hatred for this new, cheerful place before propping herself up on the hood of her car to look at her swelling ankle.

All this for a wedding. The minute Nesta managed to get back into her car, she was going to book a flight home and block this friend forever. Why was she even trying to have friends outside of Gwyn and Emerie, besides? Nesta maneuvered her phone from her black skirt pocket only to find that of fucking course she didn’t have service.

She screamed again, irate with the whole endeavor.

“All right, ma’am?” a masculine voice called. Nesta whipped her head to the side of the long, gravel drive, intending to give that busybody man the middle finger for his trouble.

She hesitated. To start, the man in question was astride a large black horse. She had no quick comeback for a man who was pulling towards her shiny red sedan like he’d stepped straight out of eighteen forty six.

He swung one of his long, powerful legs off the creature with ease, revealing himself to be at least six foot-five. Nesta had never considered herself a small woman, standing at five-nine without heels, but as he approached, his rough stubbled face hidden beneath the brim of his cowboy hat, Nesta felt positively dainty.

He swept his hat off his head and Nesta wished he hadn’t. Holding it against the blue and green flannel of his shirt, he was like something out of a magazine ad for country living. Warm brown skin, hazel eyes, and dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders was a lethal combination on this man. His chiseled jaw, the stubble grazing his cheeks, and his rough features made Nesta think he had no trouble picking up women.

And that irked her, even as she swallowed with desire. He was absurdly stunning, the absolute dream of anyone hoping to marry a cowboy from a long-forgotten age. Those eyes of his, framed with ridiculously long lashes, swept over her, and then her surroundings.

“Tricked, huh?” he asked in a rich, deep drawl. “You wouldn’t be the first. Won’t be the last.”

“Someone should burn this place to the ground,” she hissed, one hand still gripping her hurt ankle.

He chuckled. “I don’t think that would stop someone from tryin’ to sell it. You hurt?” he added, his eyes falling on her ankle.

“I twisted my foot,” she admitted. He knelt, the sight emptying out all of Nesta’s thoughts. She could only stare at his thighs, bulging in his tight jeans. His hand was large enough to wrap fully around her ankle, and ever so slowly, he pulled her foot from her scuffed black heel.

“This is your problem,” he said, holding up her shoe with a frown.

“Well I know that now,” Nesta hissed, “you must be a psychic.”

His eyes flashed. “Can you drive?”

“No,” she admitted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I wouldn’t go around insultin’ the only person who can help…but that’s just me,” he replied.

Nesta hesitated. “Are you a doctor?”

He snorted, rising to his feet again. His large, muscular body blocked the bright sun the way a tree might, and Nesta couldn’t pretend she wasn’t grateful.

“Cattle rancher,” he replied, “but I know a thing or two about tapin’ up a sprain. We’ll get you iced up and bandaged and on your way Miss…”

She sighed. “Nesta Archeron,” she half grumbled.

“Miss Archeron—”

“Nesta. Don’t be ridiculous.”

He smiled, setting her heart racing. “Miss Nesta, then. I’m Cassian, and I’m walkin’ towards you real slow because I don’t want to spook you.”

“Why would you—put me down right now!”

He shook his head. “And let you finish breakin’ what you started? No offense, darlin’, but carrying you is a lot safer than letting you hop on the horse—”

“Why can’t we drive?”

He looked down at her, his amusement plain. “And what would I do with Bryaxis?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Nesta breathed, gripping Cassian’s neck until her nails dug into his skin. “I’ve never been on a horse.”

“He doesn’t bite,” Cassian replied. “I’ll be right behind you.”

She couldn’t help her squeal as he hoisted her up into the fine leather saddle. Nesta’s bare thighs touched the material, spreading her legs obscenely, though Cassian didn’t seen to notice or care. He merely swung himself up behind her. He put one hand on her hip, the warmth seeping through her silken skirt, before reaching for the reins.

“What were you doing out here, anyway?”

He nodded towards a saddle bag. “Needed a few things in town.

“And you took a horse?” she replied, trying to imagine where he’d even park it.

Cassian’s laugh rumbled through his chest. “Where are you from, Miss Nesta?”

“Chicago,” she replied, well aware she was proving every city slicker stereotype true. “Have you ever been?”

She felt him shrug. “Nope. I’ve been to cities before, but not so far south.

So far south. Nesta didn’t know how to respond to that. “You’re not missing much, honestly.”

“No? Is Chicago not home sweet home?”

It was Nesta’s turn to shrug. “It’s where I live.”

If he had thoughts about that, Cassian kept them to himself. That was just as well—Nesta didn’t want to fight some stranger when she was currently on his horse, unable to even run. He’d left her shoes on top of her car and her suitcase in the trunk. Nesta was literally at his mercy, given the small, two-lane road they were currently traveling down had no hint of civilization besides the two of them.

She’d done such a shitty job picking an airbnb.

“What are you doin’ up here, then?” he asked after a moment. His voice had the most pleasant gravel, deep and dark like a star-flecked sky. Nesta knew she was leaning against the broad plain of his chest and found she didn’t care.

“My friend is getting married,” she said. “I guess her fiance grew up out here.”

“Oh yeah?” he replied, an obvious smile in his voice. “Married on a ranch?”

Nesta twisted in her saddle. “Don’t you dare—”

“Lots of people rent out my barn on the edge of the property. You can stay up with me, if you need a place. I’ll charge you a real fair price.”

She rolled her eyes. “What’s that?”

“You ever mucked out a stall, Miss Nesta?”

She poked him in the ribs, turning back to face the endless expanse of cloudless blue. “Is that your thing, then? Humbling the city girl by making her clean up shit?”

“Maybe I think you’d be real pretty with a little mud on your face.”

Nesta swallowed. “I don’t do mud,” she said, looking at her immaculate nails.

“What do you do, then?” Why did he sound so suggestive? Nesta’s hands were clammy–nervous. When had a man ever had that effect on her?

“Law,” she told him. “Corporate law.”

He made some soft, noncommittal noise that was, honestly, a lot better than a lot of the finance men she dated. Cassian acknowledged he’d heard her without feeling the need to cut her down in service of his own ego.

“I don’t know much about that,” he finally admitted. Nesta could have kissed him for it, though she wouldn’t.

“It’s pretty boring,” she said, earning another of his soft noises.

“I don’t believe that for a minute,” he replied. “You don’t strike me as the type to spend your time sufferin’.”

“Well…I do get to humble really rich men with a fair amount of regularity,” she admitted with a smile. His grip on her waist tightened.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his breath fanning against the back of her neck. She shivered, unintentionally leaning further into him. She was acting like a cat in heat over a man she’d known for fifteen minutes.

“I’ll pay,” she breathed. Behind her, Cassian went stiff.

“Pay?”

“For a room,” she clarified, wondering what he was thinking. “If you were serious about your offer, I’d pay you for it.”

“Oh, darlin’, there’s no need for that. Just a little hel—”

“I told you I don’t do dirt,” she snapped. “You can have money or nothing at all.”

“I’m not takin’ your money,” Cassian drawled. “Just keep after yourself and don’t disturb the cats.”

Her heart stuttered. “Cats?”

“Yeah. My girl just had kittens and she’s real skittish, so if you see her, be real quiet and soft.”

Nesta could have died. “What's her name?”

She wanted a cat so badly. Her landlord expressly forbade any animals at all, and Nesta was too much of a rule follower to risk a secret cat. The thought of spending three days surrounded by a mama cat and her little kittens seemed like heaven.

“Cheddar,” Cassian admitted ruefully. “She’s orange. Dad must be black, though, because half her little beans are black, too.”

A soft squeak slipped from Nesta’s throat. “Do they have names?”

“Not yet. Maybe you’ll help me out with that,” he added with what sounded suspiciously like hope.

She didn’t dare unpack that. Not as Cassian pulled off the road, steering his steady horse down another gravel path. Untouched grass stretched for miles in every direction until the sky met mountains in the distance.

“Your friends will be down there,” Cassian told her, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. Accident, she swore, watching the point of his finger. “But we’ll be up here. I’ll walk you down for the wedding…keep you from wreckin’ that other pretty ankle of yours.”

“Does that work on the women around here? Your folksy charm, your aw shucks—”

Cassian laughed. “Are you askin’ if being nice gets me laid?”

“Does it?”

“My good looks get me laid, darlin’. My folksy charm, as you so eloquently put it, is just called manners outside of the city. No need to pretend.”

“You’d be surprised,” she told him dryly. Cassian merely held her close, his eyes fixated on the two story ranch just in the distance. Nesta could have wept with relief. The saddle was rubbing against her inner thigh, chafing her delicate skin and the woodsy scent of smoke and pine coming off Cassian was threatening to throw all Nesta’s good sense out the window.

His home sprawled against the Montana countryside. Built to look as if it was made of wood—and maybe it was, for all she knew—the house had to be worth a cool million in Nesta’s estimation. She didn’t dare look over her shoulder at him, though. Didn’t dare acknowledge she knew this man wasn’t the simple, rural cattle rancher he was trying to embody.

And Nesta certainly didn’t let him see that she was weirdly relieved. She liked an ambitious man. And unlike all the men she’d been dating back home, Cassian wasn’t slick. Nesta would have put all the money she had on Cassian being the sort who had his heart on his sleeve for all to see. She had no business thinking about that.

This wasn’t a date.

Cassian swung off his horse and gently pulled her back into his arms.

“Don’t you go runnin’ off,” he warned Bryaxis.

“Will he?”

Cassian merely shrugged as he took her up a stone laid path towards his glass and wood front door.

“If he goes anywhere, it’ll be next door to his girlfriend.”

She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her. “Your horse has a girlfriend?”

“He’s a good-looking horse. Why shouldn’t he have a girlfriend. I catch him all the time down by the fence nuzzlin’ her with his nose.”

“Like you, then?”

Cassian chuckled. “I am very single, Miss Nesta—”

“Just Nesta,” she interrupted, breathless as he brought her inside. “The Miss makes me feel like someone’s kindergarten teacher.”

“Fine, Nesta. I, unlike my horse, am very single.”

“Any particular reason?” she asked, wishing she sounded snide and not interested.

Cassian set her on a long, dark leather sofa, He swept his hat off his head as he knelt in front of her again.

“You want to know why I’m single? Maybe I work too much,” he said softly, sliding her his hand up and then back down her knee. “Maybe I’m a shitty kisser.”

“I’ll bet it’s the second,” she replied. Cassian’s hazel eyes met her own, a smirk curving over his sensual mouth.

“And you? Are you a shitty kisser?”

“Terribly deficient.”

“I figured,” he murmured, turning his gaze back to her swollen ankle. Cassian grabbed a red pillow from the corner of his couch to prop up her foot. “Why don’t you stay here and I’ll get us all set up, hm?”

“Okay.”

Cassian vanished long enough for Nesta to fire off several quiet texts and otherwise study his really nice home. The living room had a wall made of pointed windows, and though everything had that wood cabin aesthetic, it was cozy and cheerful and bright. She flipped through her work emails while she waited, dragging a knitted blanket off the back of the sofa over her lap.

Was she insane for hanging out in a stranger's house? She would never have dared back home—her friends thought she was insane. And yet she was at the right place, and if Cassian wanted to hurt her, surely bandaging up her foot wasn’t necessary. She doubted his neighbors would have heard her scream if she stood outside and emptied her lungs of air.

Cassian returned nearly an hour later, balancing a glass of water and a plate in one massive hand, and her suitcase in the other.

“You got my things?” she asked him, surprised he’d bother. She’d assumed she’d have to hobble back out there for it.

“Of course, darlin’,” he replied, setting a nice sandwich and two ibuprofen down on the wood coffee table right in front of her. “Unless you plan on wearin’ that skirt the entire time? I don’t mind, but…”

Her cheeks flushed. “Thank you. That was really nice.”

He ducked his head. “Have somethin’ to eat before you take the medicine. You look like you haven’t had anything but coffee today. Pain killers won’t settle well on an empty stomach and while you’re cute, you’re not cute enough to clean up puke.”

Nesta was rendered speechless. That was for the best. Everytime he casually said something nice about her, Nesta was far too tempted to crawl into his lap and repay him for his generosity in a different sort of way. Instead, Nesta remained perfectly still while Cassian wrapped up her ankle with a beige colored bandage and pressed a bag of frozen green beans against the aching bone.

“Keep this elevated,” he insisted, taking a spot close enough that Nesta could have scooted forward and put her head in his lap. She was far too tempted.

“Want to watch something?” she suggested. “Or are you busy?”

“Not too busy for you,” he teased, reaching for the remote. “How do you feel about history?”

Their eyes met, and in unison, they said, “Ancient Aliens.”

Cassian smiled with satisfaction. “Fuck yeah.”

They wasted the afternoon that way. Nesta inched closer and closer until her head was propped up against his thigh. Cassian kept his arm casual against the back of the couch, unconcerned as they giggled their way through each new show. He didn’t stop until the sun dipped low, bathing the room in shadow.

“Want to help me make dinner?” he asked, his voice gruffer than before. She looked up at him.

“No eating out?”

His lips curved into a sly smile. “Are you asking to be eaten out?”

She smacked at his stomach, heart racing all the same. “You don’t seem like the cooking type. Isn’t that something for your little wife?”

“Are you offerin’?” he joked. “I accept. C’mon, lazy bones. At least come talk to me.”

“Does anything bother you?” Nesta asked, unconcerned when Cassian lifted her back into the air. She winced at the jolt of pain lancing through her ankle, though she couldn’t pretend she didn’t like the ease with which he carried her through his house. Cassian was careful, setting her atop a granite kitchen island so she could watch over his attempts at cooking.

“So tell me, Miss Nesta—”

“Just Nesta.”

“Nes,” he grinned. “Miss hot shot attorney. What do you think about my humble home?”

She looked around, pretending to survey with an arched eyebrow. “It’s a little rustic—”

Cassian’s fingers were between her ribs before she could stop him, tickling until she thrashed and gasped for a breath of air.

“Stop it, stop—”

“Rustic,” he chuckled, pulling out a nice creuset pot and setting it atop the range. “You’ll have to work on your insults.”

“I think you just wanted an excuse to touch me,” Nesta replied. Cassian smiled.

“Maybe,” he conceded. “It’s not everyday a beautiful woman is waitin’ for me on the side of the road.”

“I wasn’t waiting. I was stuck.”

He shrugged. “Sure felt like you were waitin’ for me.”

“Maybe you were waiting on me.”

“Almost certainly,” Cassian agreed cheerfully. “Do you eat pasta?”

“I’ll eat anything,” Nesta agreed. Cassian nodded.

“You and me both, sweetheart.”

And God, but Nesta wanted to find out if that was true. Cassian had a box of recipes he’d inherited from his mother that he’d been more than happy to show her. While Nesta pulled the cards out one by one, Cassian made his own tomato sauce. She knew it shouldn’t have impressed her and still it did.

He was nearly done when his cat, Cheddar, slunk into the room. Three black and orange kittens flopped just behind her, the third tumbling face first over the threshold from the hall to the tile. Nesta gasped.

“Oh my God,” she whispered.

“Where are the other four, mama?” Cassian asked his cat as she wound her way through his legs to rub against him. “What are those little demons up to?”

Nesta carefully hopped off the counter so she could scoop up one of the babies.

“Probably peeing in my boot,” Cassian grumbled, stirring his sauce with a wooden spoon.

“Babies,” Nesta breathed, delighted when the three that had ambled in with their mother immediately bounded towards her. Her favorite, for no reason at all, was the one with the split black and orange face. She had the brightest blue eyes and when Nesta lifted her up to really look at her, the small creature meowed loudly.

“Well now you’ve done it,” Cassian teased as Cheddar trotted over to see what the fuss was. “Be careful–mama cat has claws.”

Nesta scratched behind her ears. “Maybe for you.”

“I suppose like calls to like,” he grumbled. While he plated their food, Nesta played with the kittens until there was a snag in her skirt. Cassian offered Nesta a hand and when he pulled her up to her feet, balancing on one foot, he yanked just hard enough that she fell into his chest.

Into his lips.

“Oh,” she whispered, unsure what to do. Cassian kept her steady with one arm, the kiss polite and chaste and just enough to make her want much, much more.

“Sorry,” he murmured, brushing a strand of her hair off her face. “Probably shouldn’t kiss the woman rentin’ one of my rooms, but…”

“It’s alright,” Nesta assured him, letting him lead her to the blocky table just outside the kitchen. It might have been awkward had Cassian not been so charming. So laid back and nice. He’d made her spaghetti and didn’t care when his cat spent the entirety of the meal winding her lithe, orange body through his feet and purring so loud Nesta felt like she was competing for his attention.

Cassian kept the conversation going as if nothing had happened, but Nesta couldn’t get the feel of his mouth against hers out of her mind. He’d smelled crisp and clean and when her hands had pressed against his chest, he’d been all hard, toned muscle.

“Why don’t I clean up down here, and you can get settled in your room?” Cassian suggested when Nesta had been silent a little too long. She was undressing him in her mind, and when she looked up at him, the little smile on his face made her wonder if he wasn’t aware.

“Sure,” she agreed, if only to get out of helping with the dishes.

“I’ll carry you up,” he added, his eyes flashing. Nesta shook her head, her pride unable to stand being taken up and down the stairs.

“I can do it myself.

“Are you always this difficult?” he asked, rising to his feet. Cassian was a big man. Nesta had never felt small in comparison, had never once looked at a prospective lover and thought herself little. Cassian, though. Cassian exuded strength. In another life, he might have been a warrior prince worshiped by the masses.

Nesta offered him a feline smile. “Maybe.” Back home, that refusal to yield would have earned her nothing good. With Cassian, though? A slow smile spread over his rugged face.

“Wouldn’t be any fun if you weren’t, I suppose. Go on then, Miss Nesta. Yell if you need me…I’ll come runnin’.”

Nesta suppressed a shiver at his sensual tone. “Is that a promise?”

He looked her up and down, his expression suddenly ravenous. If Nesta had less pride, she might have hopped over to him, pressed her hands to his chest, and let him finish what he’d started.

“It is,” he said simply, those hazel eyes finding her face again.

It was shree will that made her turn. As if she had something to prove. And Nesta made it all of four little hops before Cassian was coming behind her and sweeping her up off her feet. Nesta gasped, unprepared to be so close to him again.

“C’mon,” he murmured, holding her like she was something delicate.

Something fragile.

And no one thought that about her. Nesta swallowed hard, biting back the urge to snap at him. He didn’t know what she was like and maybe that was a blessing, because Nesta didn’t have to put on a show for him. She could press her head against his chest and sigh, “Thank you,” without needing to scowl, to stare him down so he knew not to ever try such a thing again.

“Tell me if I’m wrong,” he drawled softly, taking that first wooden step. “But I’ve got the feelin’ that back home, you’re somethin’ of a ball buster.”

Nesta tightened, her hackles raised. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No, ma’am,” he chuckled. “It’s just…I’m thinkin’ that most of those men up there don’t know how to act right when it comes to you. And because they can’t make hide or hair of you, they treat you bad. Try and break you, make you small? So you’ve gotta be real tough, don’t you baby?”

Nesta swallowed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said crisply, careful to enunciate every single syllable which she knew only proved his point.

“That’s what I thought,” he said softly, taking her upstairs. Nesta didn’t want him to let her go. I was a strange thing, to be so seen. To be laid bare by this man she didn’t even know.

“Don’t get mad at me for sayin’ this, but you remind me of Bryaxis—”

“Your horse?”

“He was mistreated too,” Cassian explained. “Screamed at, whipped…you name it, he endured it. But all he needed was a soft hand. A little patience. I figure you probably aren’t too different.”

“Where are you taking me?”

Cassian had opened a bedroom door that absolutely belonged to him. The dark masculine reds and blacks of the bed were a dead giveaway, along with the half-full glass of water on a wood bedside table and a stack of books dog-eared haphazardly. A leather jacket was hung from a chair near the open closet door, and though it was dark, Nesta could see an adjoining bathroom at the far end of the room.

“Where, I think, you want to be tonight. Tell me if I’m wrong—I’ll put you somewhere else.”

“This is your room, Cassian.”

She could see he was trying not to smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

Tell him he’s stupid. Tell him he’s wrong. Demand he put you back in your own room and—

“Okay,” she whispered before she could talk herself out of it.

Relief all but crumpled over his features. He murmured something that sounded suspiciously like Thank the good lord, and set her atop his neatly made bedspread.

Nerves shocked through Nesta, rendering her silent for a moment. Cassian, for his part, seemed to have realized that he, too, had her in his bed and didn’t quite know what to make of that.

“I ah…why don’t I wash up the dishes and you can take a shower?”

“That sounds good, Cassian.”

It sounded better than good, and though Nesta swore she wasn’t going to say so, she called, “Unless you think I need help in the shower?”

Cassian froze. For all his bravado, it was obvious he’d never thought he’d get this far. Nesta crawled toward the end of his bed with exaggerated slowness, holding his stare. He took a slow breath, those eyes of his darkening to almost black.

“Is it safe for me alone in there?”

The knot in his throat bobbed. “I reckon it’s not, Miss Nesta—”

“Just Nesta,” she reminded him, rising up on her knees so she could touch the hard planes of his stomach. “Do you think you could call me that, Cassian?”

“I…” his voice trailed off when her fingers found his belt and tugged.

“You know,” Nesta continued with far more bravado than she felt, “I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you for coming to my rescue today.”

“You..” he cleared his throat. “That’s not necessary. I—Nes—”

“That’s better,” she crooned, having undone the button of his jeans. A lump was forming—hard and thick and Nesta was desperate to see what the cowboy had hidden in those black pair of briefs.

“Nes,” he tried again, his hands resting on her shoulder. He wasn’t stopping her, and given the way his fingers curled against her, she thought he was trying very, very hard to be a gentleman.

That wouldn’t do.

“I’d be a poor guest if I didn’t thank you,” she said, slipping past the waistband of his underwear. Nesta gasped when she curled around him—or, tried to. As she pulled Cassian out, she realized she’d need to rethink her plan to thank him with her tongue. Cassian was enormous, both thick and long. Hardly a grower, given he was still stiffening in her curled hand.

Neither of them spoke for a moment, each waiting for the other to do something. Deciding he was erect enough, she pumped him. Her fingers just barely fit around his shaft, and even with two hands she couldn’t have fully covered him. Nesta certainly wasn’t going to be able to fit him all in her throat.

But god she wanted to try.

He exhaled a breath when she stroked him again, earning a chuckle from Nesta. “Tell me how you like it,” she murmured, softening her grip. Nesta had to hope that the cowboy liked it rough, because she wanted him to fuck her within an inch of her life.

“Nice and slow?” she tried, making a sweet pass over that large cock of his.

Cassian shook his head, his dark tresses, whispering against his broad shoulders. What was he like out of control?

“What about this?” she tried, pumping him harder, squeezing tighter. He shook his head again, allowing her to make a third, rougher pass. Nesta twisted her wrist against his head, her nails grazing the sensitive vein trailing his now very erect cock jutting from between two powerful legs.

“That's what I thought,” Nesta murmured, looking up through dark lashes. “Just like me.”

“Nes—”

Nesta silenced him by taking him into her mouth. She had to use her hand to make up the difference and she didn’t care. A soft, strangled noise escaped Cassian as his fingers plunged into her hair.

Yes.

This was what she needed. Nesta took him until she gagged, and then she took a little more, teeth grazing his sensitive skin, hand punishingly tight. Cassian moaned, tugging at her hair. Nesta sucked again, trying so hard to communicate that she could take it. He was holding back, practically shaking from the effort.

Nesta took more of him, widening her jaw in order to accommodate the sheer size of him. That was all it took. Cassian made a rough, snarling sound, pushing her off him.

“You’re a lady,” he panted, reaching for the buttons of his shirt.

Finally.

“And in my house, ladies come first,” he continued, eyes flashing as he shrugged out of that shirt. Nesta swore softly at the sight of all that gleaming, corded muscle. Nesta had never seen someone so effortlessly toned, so big.

Powerful.

“I seem to recall something about eating out,” she said breathlessly, swallowing hard when Cassian prowled toward her.

“I haven’t forgotten, darlin’,” he promised, hovering over her with his unbuttoned jeans and a smile that made Nesta’s heart race. “But first, I think I’m owed a kiss.”

“Just one?” she asked as his lips ghosted over her own.

“Let’s start with one and go from there,” he said, sliding his hand around the back of her head. Nesta had only her ripped dress between them, which provided no protection against Cassian when he pressed the weight of his body against her.

In another life, she might have kissed him nice and slow—teasing it out, exploring him thoroughly. Right then, though, Nesta thought she might explode if she didn’t have his mouth directly on her, his tongue stroking, thrusting, tasting. He was just as excited, grinding himself into her while she pulled at the strands of his hair.

He tasted like snow kissed wind, somehow. Like the crackling of a fire and a frosted window—like some memory she’d long forgotten. Nesta dug her nails down the back of his neck and against his shoulder blades until he bucked into her, wild and nearly unrestrained. Nesta could not remember the last time she’d wanted someone the way she wanted him.

“Off—get this—off,” Cassian panted between messy, hungry kisses. He was pawing at her dress, trying to figure out how to take it off. Nesta arched her back into his chest, earning matching moans from them both as she yanked down the zipper

Nesta would never know how she managed to get that dress off her body given Cassian never stopped his frantic kissing. Nor did she figure out how her bra joined her clothes on the floor. She only realized she was nearly naked when Cassian licked down the column of her neck before burying his face between her breasts.

“Fuck, Nes,” he breathed, both hands covering them entirely—no easy feat, given how large they were. Cassian massaged them, callused thumbs dragging over her aching nipples until Nesta was certain she was making a mess all over his bedding.

His mouth latched around her and Nesta was lost, ripping at his hair as her body bowed off the bed.

“Responsive,” he teased, his tongue tracing around the sensitive bud. “I wonder…”

“Cass—” she gasped when his hand made its way between her legs. Nesta writhed when he began drawing circles on her clit, teasing touches that weren’t even close to what she needed, even as he switched between her breasts, sucking and licking. She could feel it all in her pussy, like every nerve in her body was intimately connected.

She could have come from that—for the first time in god knew how long. At least, without her own hand, without assistance from a toy. Nesta couldn’t recall the last time a man had pleased her so easily, so effortlessly.

Cassian pulled back, wild and impossibly sexy. Holding her gaze, he nipped his way down her body until he found the red pair of panties still clinging to her hips.

“Aw, for me?” he teased, kissing against the fabric. “Sweetheart, you’re soaked.”

Nesta pushed herself against his face, but Cassian was still licking against the lace.

“I’ll bet you could come just like this. Couldn’t you?”

If he was doing it? Probably. Nesta merely whined, arching when he hooked his fingers into her underwear and peeled them off her.

He whistled softly. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby. Do you know that? I feel sick at the sight of you.”

She didn’t have a chance to respond. Cassian’s tongue slid down the center of her, rendering speech impossible. Nesta reached for something to hold on to, and found his hair for purchase. Cassian groaned, the sound vibrating against her. Her thighs tightened around his face, earning another groan of pleasure.

Cassian’s tongue was everything. She realized, after a lifetime of thinking she was just difficult to get off—too fussy, too particular, too exacting—that what she really needed was someone who knew what they were doing. Cassian had her spread apart, licking and sucking her clit with the sort of expert precision that told Nesta he liked what he was doing.

She regretted not sucking him more. Nesta was going to come apart in record time and she knew she was going to beg him to do this again in a few hours. All weekend.

For fucking ever.

Release was gathering on her spine, burning hotly through her blood until Nesta didn’t recognize the noises coming from her throat. Cassian, too, was rolling his hips into the mattress, trying to alleviate his own arousal. Nesta nearly stopped him, if only to have that long, thick length in her body.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Cassian pushed one of his fingers into her. Nesta tightened around him and Cassian swore at whatever he felt, though he didn’t stop. He fucked and sucked in time, working her like she was an instrument only he knew how to play. Nesta built up, up, up, until she was fucking his hand, rolling all over his face like a wild animal.

Nesta broke apart with a scream she couldn’t control, bucking against him as she shattered into fractals of starlight. Cassian didn’t stop, riding her through wave after wave with clear, obvious excitement. It was only when pleasure became edged with pain that Nesta released the grip her thighs had around his face and Cassian came up for a deep breath of air.

“Fuck,” he said, his lips gleaming from her arousal. “Fuck, Nes—”

“Come here, come here,” she panted, scrabbling for his shoulders. Cassian obliged, kissing her frantically. His tongue was coated in the taste of her, pushed against her own. Nesta liked it, wanted more of him.

“Condom,” he breathed, finally shucking his jeans to trip over to his dresser. Nesta propped herself up on her elbows to watch, admiring his firm ass as he went. Cassian was quick about it, rolling the condom onto his cock with what she swore were shaking hands. His eyes shone, and if she didn’t know better, she would have sworn Cassian could not believe his good luck.

“You sure?” he asked, hesitating at the end of the bed. Nesta nearly laughed, given she was spread out and still trembling from his mouth. Any other man would have jumped on her, would already be balls deep buried in her.

He was sweet, she decided.

She wanted to keep him, though she had no idea how. She’d figure it out later. “I’m sure.”

“Good,” he said with another heart stopping smile. “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d said no.”

“Sure you do,” she offered in what she hoped was a sultry voice. “You’d have gone into the bathroom and used your hand.”

“That was my plan to start,” he agreed, settling between the cradle of her thighs. “But this is much better. Have I said how pretty you are?”

“Once, at least.”

“Well.” He pushed himself an inch or so into her. Nesta gasped loudly. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful, darlin’.”

He’d punched all the air from her lungs. Nesta didn’t think she’d ever been stretched against anything half as large as Cassian. It was the sweetest pain that, with each shallow stroke inching him in deeper, became wholly pleasure. By the time Cassian had fully seated himself within her, a bead of sweat was trailing down his temple from the effort it took to go slow.

“Good?”

“Good,” she agreed, gripping the back of his neck for a kiss. “Cass?”

He hummed in response.

“I’m not fragile. You can fuck me, if you like.”

Cassian pulled himself out before snapping his hips so hard the headboard above them rattled. “Like that?” he grunted.

“Yes—yes, Cassian—”

He did it again, groaning loudly when she tightened involuntarily around him. This was Cassian unrestrained, his hair wild around his rugged, handsome face. His muscles bunched and shifted from the effort, held over her just enough that she could incline her had and watch his cock slide in and out of her body.

He wasn’t finished, and Nesta already wanted to have him again.

And again.

Cassian reached for her knees, bending them up by her shoulders to drive himself deeper. Nesta moaned, eyes rolling up into her head. The balls of her feet were pressed to his chest pushing him with each slide out, only for him to return with twice as much force. When she’d said she’d wanted it rough, well…this was exactly what she meant.

“Nes, fuck—” he panted, eyes rolling up into his head as she came on his cock. Nesta arched hard, every muscle in her body going taut all at once. She clamped around him and Cassian came too, clearly unbidden and unprepared for the force of his own release. She wanted to drown herself in the noises he made, in the frantic thrusting of his body driving himself deeper on instinct.

Cassian collapsed on top of her, dropping Nesta’s legs carelessly. She hissed when her bruised ankle hit the bed.

“Sorry,” he whispered, lips against her jaw. “And I’m not, at the same time. Nesta, I…”

“I know,” she agreed, because she was certain they were thinking the same thing. Something else had happened between them, something they couldn’t so easily walk away from.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said, perhaps guessing those words were never going to come easy to Nesta. “I can hear you worryin’. Baby, you don’t have to worry about me.”

Nesta brushed her fingertips against the rough stubble of his face. “Promise?”

Cassian grinned. “I promise.”

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #bryaxis #i mean bryaxis IS a horse but still #a good boy #montana!cassian #dustjacket you better LOVE this

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sawixii · 3 months

Text

i makea da other list. it's even longer this time

content: (everyone i didn't talk abt before lol) von kaiser, king hippo, bear hugger, soda popinski, bald bull, little mac+doc louis (and a random mention of nintendo's other forgotten fighting game ARMS)

art by @verawhisk he's so eepy here

von kaiser

erykah badu once said "totally underrated. i don't think people have dealt with his disability. the stuttering- it's not just the stuttering. something happened to him. i just don't think, y'know, people really cared a lot about it." and she was talking about porky pig but that is my feelings on von kaiser

BUT SERIOUSLY NINTENDO why characterize the second lowest ranking boxer in both nes and wii punch out as having uncontrollable physical tics who is also extremely tough on himself to the point of smacking himself in the head multiple times to reprimand himself???? i don't want to fight him dude PLEASE

he definitely wasn't in super punch out despite icon status because of all the young kids fighting for no reason?? like birdy mac is 17, heike is 19, there's a fuckin flood of 20 year olds. have you ever sat down and wrapped your head around the fact that aran ryan is only 23. his teacher side forced him to back off

his fight with little mac nearly got him booted from the minor league because the ref accused him of throwing the match by only throwing punches that mac would easily block. mac was really pissed bc he assumed von kaiser was underestimating him but he vouched for kaiser and kept him in the wvba. they aren't on good terms bc mac actually has experienced not being taken seriously but he knows he didn't mean anything by it. kaiser just isn't a cold blooded fighter

sorry all kaiser's stuff was so dark AGH i just have emotions abt him. kaiser knows the end of his career is coming around so he started forcing himself not to pick every fight offered to him and distract himself from the time the fight would be happening by exploring the city around him. he most enjoys finding new restaurants and eating with a friend, mostly joe or disco kid.

king hippo

king hippo fans pspspsps. i know it's hard being a fan of a character who likes eating. i was a niall fan i understand your pain

distractable. omg so distractable and so sweet if you're hanging out with him and literally anyone else starts talking to him he's gone. mall vendors love him bc he will hang on to their every word and walk away with thirteen samplings of perfume and two fruity isla paradisa colognes. this absolutely also applies to street animals

u: hippo stop it's a street cat it's literally hissing at you

king hippo: (making purring noises and slow blinking)

it's not that he doesn't talk, it's the fact that everyone expects him to, so he refuses. get to know me on my own terms if you want to get to know me then. nonverbal power

really enjoys being independent so he doesn't like to date or adopt pets but his yard and the area around his house is filled with warm hiding places for strays to sleep and he keeps a big water bowl cleaned and filled to the top. he tries not to feed wild animals bc it's a really terrible idea to get them dependent but sometimes the wandering chickens are too cute

VERY serious about pacific island animal care. his money is for keeping himself fed and for the care and upkeep of his flowers and beehouses. more often than not he walks along the beach all day looking for trash or an animal in distress

i cannot tell you enough what an actual angel he is to be friends with. if you're depressed in another country he's already on a plane on his way. there is no stopping him. hippo is inevitable

you'd be hard pressed to find a single person on his islands who doesn't adore him and light up when he shows up EXCEPT. the owner of a tourist dive bar called sunset chaser. when hippo was a bab he kept wandering inside bc it's right on the beach and has bubbly vertical fish tanks all around. at first the owner assumed he just didn't speak english, then around the 13th visit he realized hippo understood everything he was saying (mostly Leave Please You're Not Old Enough) and was just showing up at this point to fuck with him. long story short hippo started showing up during peak business hours, get seen by the owner, and get chased out laughing his ass off. he comes around now as an adult (and famous) just to order water and soup and leave (30% tip)

loves to make people laugh and often does it without meaning to bc he's so expressive. if someone is an easy laugher (coughdiscokid coughbearhugger) he doesn't even do anything he just sits there and side eyes them like a dog. and then when they stop laughing he starts giggling and he has a crazy infectious laugh so nobody gets anything done

bear hugger

if you didn't have a crazy uncle before you do now

has never taken ANYTHING seriously. his two goals in life is to laugh and make The Perfect Breakfast (so far it requires waffle pancake towers and at least a gallon of maple syrup)

he never gets mean and he doesn't raise his voice when he's angry but when he sees invasive bugs and lizards and all that he turns into THE VERMINATOR

i'm telling you he's out there with a little vacuum laying waste to spotted lanternflies. and his squirrel has an even tinier vacuum and they're laughing like maniacs. it's kind of beautiful

he's kind of. a terrible friend DON'T CLICK OFF LET ME EXPLAIN he loves everyone and is a great guy to know and will come fix your spark plugs if you're in the middle of nowhere but he kind of doesn't realize that he can't just go off the grid whenever he wants for seven months without telling anyone why or where he is. he was just raised to be self sufficient and solitary

wanted to be a mountie as a kid but he decided he doesn't like the idea of answering to anyone just to go out and take care of nature. he does that every day. and he'd have to wear a shirt. no thanks

completely out of pocket humor. "there aren't any wild rats in alberta. i have seen some pet rats though. 's like a rat police state."

one of the very few adults who aren't lactose intolerant and he LOVES milk. he drinks a whole canteen full of it a day to keep himself strong. everyone in the major league is frankly disgusted by this but he's never broken a bone in his life and he's fallen out of at least 10 redwoods. so who's really crazy here

soda popinski

trying to fight the "blunt russian" stereotypes but he refuses to learn any english words besides "yes." "no." and "i don't know."

loyal to the cologne he's been using since he turned 15. the company making it nearly discontinued it but his team arranged to do an advertisement campaign with him as the face of the brand as long as they promised him a lifetime supply. it's a very cedar-y smell with undertones of chrysanthemum

actually really enjoys taking pictures with fans. he's not super confident about his looks but it's the one of the only times he allows himself to smile for pictures. otherwise you have photographers assuming that you will smile for any picture when that is simply not true

he was so hot in his 20's. hold on let me find the image

he didn't like any of the attention he got so at 24 he shaved his head and started growing out his facial hair.

in general he hates being told what to do or being made a fool of. there's a reason he's in the crowd throwing bottles at aran ryan in title defense he got PISSED when aran wasn't fighting fair

despite this and the persona he adopts in the ring he is an extremely level headed and accommodating man. he and bald bull click pretty easily since they both understand how hard it is to shake a reputation of past aggression

soda's wake-up call to that happened in high school. he was constantly restless and getting into trouble with his teachers because he was struggling academically but could never verbalize just how, and with his authority figures when he "had" to fight his classmates in order to not look like an idiot and a wimp. yuh deep rooted resentment of authority

he has never actually drunken alcohol before. "vodka drunkinski" was an over the top joke name around the wvba's tendency to push boxers into stereotypes (his boldness impressed bald bull and started their years long friendship)

he would probably be really good friends with mr. sandman but the two are both more listeners rather than talkers so nothing more than a cool nod when they pass each other happens

he actually has quite a comedic social media presence. always slightly behind the trends but has a giant following because of that. he's like a russian cher

bald bull

hoo. bald bull in my mind lives a crazy life

the first boxer ever signed to the wvba and plans to stick around until his muscles give out. that said the same loyalty cannot be prescribed to the wvba itself

as a young man he was the golden calf. the cash cow (sorry i'm done) he was ready for the cameras at any time; he owned his angry and aggressive persona and he loved the public's fascination with his deadly bull rush. the name bald bull was synonymous with power, fearlessness, with the best of the best and with success.

when don flamenco was coming onto the scene, it was exactly the matchup both men needed. i mean, hello?? the bull and the bullfighter??? this was the fight of the century and the wvba didn't let ANYONE forget it

of course a fight is one night only, but good advertising can last a lifetime. (for better or for worse.) all the promotional material starts rolling out; bald bull's snarl contrasted with the young, calm, captivating don. there were photoshoots of don in matador suits, swinging the red cape with a proud smirk on his face, as though he had already won. as though his opponent were really a bull.

bald bull didn't need to be told who was favored to win. if the bull beats the matador, there is no cheering.

bald bull did win the match, though. handily. practically a massacre; don flamenco hardly threw a punch that mattered. and bull was right; the crowd didn't cheer.

he hadn't even taken off his boxing gloves before bull was summoned to be checked for doping. he had a nasty fight with the wvba doctor then; if he wasn't doping, why wouldn't he just let the tests prove him right? he seemed uncharacteristically aggressive tonight. maybe he should take an indefinite break

finally he defended himself hoarse; he took the blood test. no outside intervention. no apology. no need to push the matter further.

both don and bull's teams approached the wvba with the ultimatum that neither boxer would be coerced into any further matches, on threat of losing both of the fighters. they agreed and don flamenco and bald bull have not spoken since. bull specifically refuses to make any statement on the incident, while don flatly reiterates bald bull's expertise as a veteran of boxing, staying silent on any other questions.

that was, if you could tell, when bald bull learned the sticking power of an aggressive persona. his name is still synonymous with intimidation, power, and rage, though at some point the line between compliment and insult started to blend together.

he's extremely cagey about his real self, though being in the spotlight for so long has left very little of his public image to the imagination, and he's certainly much more irritable than he was as a young man.

he isn't all that he makes himself out to be, obviously. but there is no softer side that's yet to be found; he's just human. that means enough to him, anyway

if you were to dig deep in the youtube educational side (why would you. dork) you would find content by bald bull aimed at students struggling with physics. he loved science in school and was constantly conducting little experiments, and he was fascinated by physics. he feels bad for anyone who really enjoys science but gets held back by higher applications, so he purposefully shows any and every mistake he makes in the experiment to disprove that you have to be perfect as a scientist and to add a bit of entertainment to an otherwise pretty excruciating field

he's extremely well traveled, having visited every country in europe and nearly the entirety of asia as well. his parents believed the best education a child could get was through direct exposure to the real world. he would get horribly homesick and withdraw, dreaming of his bedroom in turkey until his grandmother gave him a piece of advice he carries with him to this day

he grew to enjoy travel, and whenever he starts to feel homesick, he bakes himself baklava. not quite how his grandmother would make, but it comforts him all the same

little mac

i know we all want the wvba to be besties but we gotta be honest at some point. it would be weird if this seventeen year old were just casually hanging out with these men who are on average three times his age

he's a good boxer (duh) but i swear i heard years ago that he was doing professional boxing in order to go to law school later on? pls tell me if you've also heard that i often feel like i'm insane. lawyer mac is so cute rotating him in my mind

btw i believe the name "little mac" being a pretty well known moniker being first used by nes mac, then snes mac and whatnot. i do also believe in mac's first name being macario though so i think doc louis just got really lucky this time around

he was a pretty unremarkable student in terms of popularity before he got famous but after it got so unmanageable he had to switch to online school thereby isolating him even more

he gets flustered so easily. he'll be jogging at the crosswalk with doc waiting for it to clear and then accidentally make eye contact with some guy and nearly slip on his own feet

due to my penchant for forgotten fighting games i also made he and mechanica from ARMS siblings. they both have celebrity crushes on ribbon girl but mac is a kid cobra stan for lifeeee

he and doc have grown inseparable over the course of his career. mac does have parents but he considers doc a father figure too; mac's family tree puts way more merit on chosen family rather than blood

speaking of family trees mac's is wild. he has family in india, haiti, the philippines, mexico, hawai'i, brazil, indigenous america, puerto rica like family reunions go crazy. he's closest (in location and by direct connection) to his latino cousins in the bronx and brooklyn so everyone just assumes he's latino. he honestly has no idea

however due to his multi heritage he loves tweeting once he beats someone. like when he beat don flamenco he immediately tweeted "that's for puerto rico"

mac actually programmed the training holograms as well as his own mesh hologram! he watches copious amounts of past performances of the boxer he's set to go up against and runs an extremely simplified version of their style and estimates how they'll deal with exhaustion, how much force they'll put into each round etc

#i kind of forgot who i was as i writing for bald bull. blehh #no thoughts only bull #punch out #punch out headcanons #von kaiser #king hippo #bear hugger #soda popinski #bald bull #little mac #see you in the movies

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stellasfictionalworld · 2 months

Text

part 2.

part 3

a/n: i got so excited i decided to right a second part already. reader is referred to as cupid.

reader x andre anderson

cw: (i mean you’ve watched the show so) implied sex, swearing, under age drinking, fluff, use of drugs, implied sexual assault

word count: 1,606

Your roommate is Ashley Carter. You two hit it off well, she’s been taking the Performing Arts courses. Although, you’ve suggested she might as well join Hero Management since she saved your ass last year. When your Student Rating skyrocketed after your fuck fest, she was right there beside you. Excited for you, and helped you point yourself in the right direction. She helped you find a marketing team, and read through contracts to make sure you weren’t getting scammed. It made sense, considering Ashley was taking some law classes on the side with her Performing Arts courses.

Yet she loved the big screen, and it was made for her. Her power was that she could sparkle, like literally. Edward Cullen style, without the need for blood. She very much could blind the shit out of you or act as a disco ball. Anyhow, you two made the cutest insta posts together. Cupid and Glitter.

Your name was called as you pulled a knee-high sock. You greeted your roommate as she flopped onto her bed.

“Look at you,” you could hear the smile on her face. “You think you’ll get to be one of them? I can see it already,” she said.

You turned to your roommate and shook your head but you had a small smile on your face.

“I’d like to get to know them first,” you said, your heart sinking. You wouldn’t be used, not again. You put on the rest of your outfit and posed for Ashley. “What do you think,” you said.

“Cuuuute,” she said, snapping a picture.

“Thanks,” you winked. “What are your plans by the way?” you asked.

“I think I’m gonna see Jen again,” she said.

You grinned widely and your brows shot up. “You’re gonna find love before I do,” you said and her face started to get red.

“Get out of here,” she waved you off. “Go see Andre,” she added.

“Okay, but tomorrow. Drinks and stories,” you pointed at her and she nodded.

…

It wasn’t till you got there, that you realized this was Dusty’s place. You’d gone to other house parties, but this place was a mad(crack)house. The shit that happened here, most of the time no one would remember by morning. Your stomach churned as you followed a group ahead of you. They opened the door and you were immediately hit with the smell of sweat and weed. The mad(fuck)house was booming with life. Dancing, snorting up cocaine, makeout sessions, and other crude shit happened right in front of your eyes. Someone bumped into you and you took that as a sign to move.

You texted Andre, saying you’d made it inside. You licked the cherry gloss on your lips as you made your way around the house. You found the drinks and grabbed the first thing you saw. Your fingers trembled as you tried to get the top off.

“Fuck,” you muttered in annoyance. The rancid smell of vomit hit your nose already.

“Need help with that?” someone asked beside you.

“Yeah actually,” you looked up with a sweet smile. Your blood went ice cold when you recognized the blonde you were looking at. Rufus, you’d heard rumors about him, they usually involved non-consent situations. A part of you told you to run, but you kept up the smile. Offering him the bottle and he cracked it open with ease.

“Thank you,” she said and took a step around him.

“No problem,” he blocked your escape, putting a hand on the kitchen counter. “You’re Cupid right?” he asked.

“The one and only,” you sipped your drink, “and you are?” you asked.

“Rufus, sure you haven’t heard of me?” he asked with a slightly higher pitch.

You pressed your lips together and knitted your brows together. You were picking at his ego on purpose, it’s what he deserved after all.

“I think the name rings a bell, do we have a class together?” you asked.

He laughed dryly, eyeing your tits now. Chills ran down your spine, fucking wanting to run. You were in his range, he could catch you the minute you turned around.

He started to talk again, and your phone buzzed.

“Sorry, give me a sec,” you said and you didn’t hear a response.

Andre

10:03 pm

just got here, where are you?

You swallowed thickly as you typed away.

10:03

Kitchen, with Rufus.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” you said with your fake smile.

“No worries,” he stepped closer to you. Your nose scrunched up, overwhelmed by his cologne and alcohol breath. “What do you say, we go upstairs? I know you’re kinda on break, but c’mon,” he laughed, licking his lips. “I know you’re dying for some,” he finished his sentence. You would have gagged on the spot if not for the fact he thought you wanted this. He was giving you a choice, not mind fucking you yet.

“I just got here,” you cracked a smile, “I wanna party a little first,” you said.

He did not like that. He stared at you, hungry for the parts of you that everyone knew about. You might as well have been naked, people openly talked about your body last year. Everyone knew about your magic touch. Rufus wanted more than a taste, and you were going to give it to him. Right to his crotch.

Before your fist collided with anything, a hand wrapped around your hip. Your brows shot up and you looked over your shoulder. Andre pressed himself against you and smiled at you.

“Sorry for making you wait,” he said, he gave your hip a gentle squeeze. “Rufus,” he said darkly, immediately Rufus cleared his throat. He backed the fuck up and eyed you then him. There were flashes of anger and fear between each glance. Then he muttered something before disappearing with a bottle of beer.

You let out a breath of relief and blinked away the wetness in your eyes.

“You okay? Did he do anything to you?” he asked, staring down the hallway Rufus had escaped with. You wondered if he hoped to have laser eyes at that very moment. You took in a breath and chugged the beer.

“He didn’t, thanks to you,” you put down the bottle and grabbed a cold one. “Thank you,” you looked up at him and he nodded.

“It’s my fault if–” he said, and you shushed him.

“Don’t. Nothing happened, it’s all good,” you smiled.

“Right,” he took in a sharp breath through his nose, “just stay with me. I’ll make sure he doesn't even fucking look at you,” he looked down at you.

It was sweet, he got so pressed on your behalf. You could handle yourself, but sometimes you still needed saving. Though it wasn’t the first time you dealt with guys like Rufus, considering your last year in God U. Andre simmered down but hadn’t moved his hand the whole time.

“Let’s party, yeah?” you said. “Didn’t you say your friends were here too?” you asked.

“Yeah, let’s go,” his shoulders had dropped, and he gave you his iconic gorgeous smile. His hand finally slipped away, but you swear you saw his fingers flinch when he let go. You followed him, and he pointed to the group sitting outside. They were sitting on picnic chairs, around a foldable table. You immediately appreciated the fresh air, it was a bit cold making you close up your cardigan.

There were a few people outside in the pool, some chilling outside of it. It wasn’t too noisy though. The table was filled with laughter as Andre and you took a seat. They’d saved an extra seat just for you.

“Hey,” Cate greeted you first, then Luke did, and you received a nod from Jordan. “You two okay?” she asked with brows furrowed. Her big blue eyes twinkled because of the fairy lights, she looked like a Disney princess. One who looked so hot smoking a blunt before passing it to Luke.

“It’s fine.”

“Rufus was talking to her.”

You both blurted at the same time.

Your brow shot up and immediately the mood was killed.

“Shit, did he do anything to you?” Luke immediately asked.

“No he didn’t, luckily Andre saved me,” you bumped shoulders with him. He gave you a small smile, but something told you he wasn’t going to let this go any time soon. Cate had gone quiet with a distant look in her eyes before lighting a new blunt. She handed it to you with a small smile. You dragged out the blunt and immediately melted into your chair.

Time passed, and all of you discussed how classes were hard. You and Cate disagreed though. Andre needed saving before his grade dropped, so in between drinks. You’d offered to help him, tutor instead of giving him the answers. He seemed surprisingly excited by the idea, saying you should. His friends were rolling their eyes and grinning.

You were so distracted with other shit, like how the sun umbrella looked like it was melting. Jordan had given you some good shit, and you’d cried to them. Saying how good this shit was, and how grateful they were your provider. They’d toppled over laughing in their fem form with you. You both eventually just couldn’t stop laughing next to the pool.

Then you woke up in your bed. The drapes were open, causing you to groan. You fell out of bed and shut them immediately. Then you collapsed back onto your bed. You touched your jacket, realizing it wasn’t even yours. Then you sat up.

“Holy shit,” you said.

#reader x andre anderson #gen v x reader #gen v x you #cate dunlap #jordan li #gen v #luke riordan #rufus is so fucking nasty #anywayyyy andre to the rescue #if you can make jordan li laugh #i think you're immediately friends #andre anderson x reader

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mako-neexu · 9 months

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Wanna know the reason why Oberon is so covered up for a summer outfit? It's cause his body is littered with hickies and bite marks from Guda ;)

love the fandom is so horny for oberon meanwhile oberon's creator herself feels like a grandmother watching over her grandson go to his first summer camp 😭 its so cute yet im here writing him getting his nipples sucked by guda so he's forced to use the hoodie

also the way i literally prioritized this idea over the hundred wips i have😭 plus this somehow??? kind of pushed me out of my writer's block wow so this is the power of being horny for oberon anyways i wrote something short under the cut XD

Cute.

Oberon was just too cute.

Ritsuka pulls away from the kiss, and takes a good look at her handiwork.

Her Pretender pants underneath her, breathless and flushed, purple and red flowers bloom on his once fair skin, his nipples were pink from all her sucking, coated with a bright sheen from her spit.

“Tsk, you’re a fucking pervert through and through.” He says, in between breaths while glaring at her.

Ritsuka grinds down on his boner, her grin growing even wider at the sound of his strangled moans.

“Says the one who fucked me senseless last week.” He made sure to do it at a bad time too. So this could be also considered revenge for embarrassing herself in front of everybody as she hobbled to the command room.

She leans back down before capturing his lips into another kiss, slipping her tongue inside his wet cavern, one arm tightening further around his wrists pinned above his head.

What was she supposed to do when Oberon came in to try and make fun of her with a cute man bun and low swimming trunks? Just let him be? Not on her watch.

She tastes the ice cream he had earlier, reaching deeper into his mouth to gather and take everything from him. The flavor was overly familiar yet even with the knowledge of what the main ingredient was the dessert made, Ritsuka could only think of Oberon before her.

Did he seriously use her blue apples to make this ice cream? God he was so fucking cute-

Her lips travel down his chin, leaving open mouthed kisses while her other hand cupped and stroked his cock through his shorts.

And the way he could only squirm and moan underneath her was practically a drug to her system.

Finding another spot that was still unmarked, Ritsuka latched onto that patch of skin and sucked. She bit, nipped, and showered him with kisses, losing herself into the arousal from the noises that slipped past his lips.

Once more pulling back, Ritsuka leaned forwards to kiss the spot behind Oberon’s ear and whispered, “You don’t mind if I leave you like this, right?”

After all, they were kind of running late to the rayshift schedule since they got a little too preoccupied.

Oberon growled, “Are you shitting me right now?”

“Uh, no?” She smiles a little as she gets off from his lap to sit beside him and wear her shoes, “But I do have a hoodie and shorts in my closet over there that you could wear to cover… everything up.”

The way he gives her a glare of disgust has her also promising to drag him to the beach so he could do some cool moves with Muramasa’s katana paired with Castoria’s arts while they have fun in the ocean.

#anon #ask #fgo #oberon vortigern #again please dont kill me for grammar mistakes jwbfwejkfjkrn

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fagbearentertainment · 8 months

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Fnaf or undertale:

1, 9, 10, 25

1. the character everyone gets wrong

Undertale:

Chara. See the last ask I answered.

Also sans. Everyone likes to make him be all like “I know EVERYTHING and remember ALL PREVIOUS RESETS” when that just isn’t canon lol. He actually remembers the least of any main characters, he only knows the timelines are being reset bc of his lab equipment and bc he’s really good at reading facial expressions

Fnaf:

Elizabeth. At least back in the day everyone made her some entitled spoiled brat who deserved to die (she’s a child calm down) when that just isn’t what we see of her in canon. She wants to see Circus Baby despite William saying no yes but she’s also like 8 years old and William literally told her he made Baby for her, Baby looks like her for crying out loud! If I was Elizabeth I would wanna see Baby too!

9. worst part of canon

Undertale:

Oof that’s a hard one. Maybe Alphys character? She’s still good and interesting don’t get me wrong but like. Idk it’s hard to explain

Fnaf:

The lore being so convoluted. I mean I like the mystery around it but come on, at some point it stops being mysterious and just becomes Scott being a bad writer

10. worst part of fanon

Undertale:

I have multiple so buckle up

sans and chara being mortal enemies who are both somehow aware of each others existance, sans would realistically not know chara unless you think he worked with gaster (assuming gaster was around when chara was and not after or more realistically way before), but also hunt each other down in every au to try to kill each other. Chara doesn’t even canonically have the power to reset like Flowey does sans does not care about that random dead child any more than the 6 other ones that were killed

Papyrus being boiled down to “uwu pure bean must protecc.” It’s literally just infantilization of an autistic coded character. I remember a thang back in the day was him not understand sex jokes bc he was “too pure to understand” even tho Frisk, the literal child, would be shown understanding them and it still makes me mad despite being way less popular now

Same as the papyrus one but with Swap Sans. He got the same treatment bc he had the same personality as Papyrus 😔

Fnaf:

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

Undertale:

people being weird about sans x sans shipping. Like yeah we get it, you think it’s cringe, well guess what your in the cringe selfcest fandom block the tags and get over it

Fnaf:

people being weird about shipping. Like I don’t ship anything except security breach fronnie bc it has canonical evidence but I don’t understand why everyone’s all like “EW CRINGE!!!!! KILL IT WITH FIRE!!!! WHERES THE EYE BLEACH?!?!?!” over the most tame ship art/fic I’ve ever seen

#not a poll #undertale #fnaf #ask game

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bi-turtle-enthusiast · 3 months

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Thanks for answering my ask. Can I ask (again), if you don't mind, your top 5 (or top 3) favorite characters from TGCF & SVSSS? And why you loved them? And your top 5 favorite moments each from the series? Thanks if you want to answer....

ough ok this is gonna be hard bc i unironically love every character in tgcf for one reason or another.

top 3 tgcf characters:

3. Shi Qingxuan/Jun Wu I did NOT expect Jun Wu to be on this list but I started writing my fic and I kind of fell in love with his character. He's an awful person who loves causing misery but at the same time there's something so painfully human about wanting so desperately to be understood by someone, anyone. I don't condone his actions but I'm here to watch. I love Shi Qingxuan for being genderfluid, brave and kind, and just so much fun. She brings unmatched energy into every scene she's in and I just love her.

2. Hua Cheng This one should be pretty obvious considering I made him my pfp on my art blog and refuse to stfu about him but god DAMN I just can't stop thinking about him. I love everything about him. His amazing fits. His incredibly powerful imagery. The way he's just so insane. His butterflies. The color red. The gender. Everything.

1. Xie Lian He's the one I draw the most for a reason. I have a thing for characters who choose kindness whenever they can, and I love Xie Lian for being able to ultimately decide that he does in fact want to use his godly powers to protect his believers and not to dominate them. He doesn't make that decision lightly—he knows what it's like to abuse his power for the sake of vengeance and he's seen what it's like when gods abuse their power for greed—he decides that being kind and benevolent is the path he wants to take because ultimately, it's love that keeps the world intact. Xie Lian is love, and I love him.

Honorable mentions: Mu Qing, Shi Wudu, He Xuan, Yushi Huang

top 3 svsss characters (bear with me because I am not super familiar with SVSSS)

3. Shang Qinghua I want to throw him against a wall (affectionate). I hate him. I love him but on a deeper level I hate him but on an even deeper level I love him. Just,, such a little shit

2. Zhuzi Lang He's a pathetic little meow meow with a fucked up sense of morality and objectively too many snakes. Someone get this guy a therapist and maybe a snack

1. Liu Qingge He's a hater through and through. I, too, find Bingqiu irritating. His "no Luo Binghes allowed" rule is perfection imo. And the way Shen Qingqiu can just call out his name and Liu Qingge will come out of literally nowhere with a flying kick?? Love that.

I honestly can't rank my top 3 moments from SVSSS because I don't remember it that well. Here are mine from TGCF though!

3. Jealous Xie Lian during the Blackwater arc Hua Cheng is like "my beloved is a noble, gracious special someone" and Xie Lian is like "ugh i hope they fucking die I MEAN I HOPE YOU THEY MAKE YOU SMILE." We don't really see jealous Xie Lian that often and it was really funny to see just how petty he got. He's usually really calm and collected and neutral about things but he was so intense here. Possibly because he was a bit hangry.

2. The Hualian confession Everything about it is just. hrmnksgnsf. I love it. I love the way they're kinda awkward after it but then they clear the air a bit and continue onwards while holding hands. I love the way Xie Lian confesses with a hug.

1. The bamboo hat/Xie Lian telling Bai Wuxiang to fuck off The moment where Xie Lian's faith in humanity is restored. And then Bai Wuxiang appears and tries to be all evil and Xie Lian just goes "fuck off you ugly mf you're blocking my sun" to the guy who's been haunting him nonstop for months on end. And Bai Wuxiang is so stunned that he gets a little desperate—so desperate that he starts a fight just so he can have an excuse to be "defeated" by Jun Wu. Man, I love that scene.

#tgcf #asks

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jcmarchi · 1 month

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Fatal Fury: City of the Wolves Preview - Revving Up An Old Engine - Game Informer

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/fatal-fury-city-of-the-wolves-preview-revving-up-an-old-engine-game-informer/

Fatal Fury: City of the Wolves Preview - Revving Up An Old Engine - Game Informer

An entire generation of fighting game fans have been born, hit puberty, graduated college, found a career, and possibly started a family in the time between the last Fatal Fury game and the upcoming City of the Wolves. The most recent entry, Garou: Mark of the Wolves, was released in 1999 for arcades (and 2001 for Dreamcast in the West), meaning the series has been dormant for over 25 years. Fatal Fury: City of the Wolves sees the series make its long-awaited return, and it already feels ready to stand alongside the big boys of the genre.

I had a chance to play over an hour of City of the Wolves at the SNK World Championship Finals last weekend, where I also spoke with producer Yasuyuki Oda. Fatal Fury has been an arcade mainstay since 1991 but hasn’t quite created the mainstream footprint of Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat. With this new entry, Oda says he believes the series’ penchant for more technical fighting, along with modern revisions to fan-favorite systems, will help it stand out in the now crowded space. Additionally, he also hopes these tenants help the game appeal to unfamiliar younger fighting game enthusiasts who may only know Fatal Fury by name.

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You eat with your eyes first, and City of the Wolves looks sharp thanks to a stylized art direction, with bold, heavy shadows that give the game a vibrant comic-book-like look reminiscent of Marvel vs Capcom 3. The returning fighters available in my demo were Rock Howard, Terry Bogard, Hotaru Futaba, and Tizoc. I also got to try a new character named Preecha. This bespectacled, bubble-gum-haired young woman is a quirky but brilliant scientist. Interestingly, she’s less interested in proving her fighting superiority and more interested in finding scientific explanations for how her rivals can perform seemingly impossible feats like shooting fire or energy out of their fists.

“She’s coming at it at a little bit of a strange point,” says Oda. “It’s almost like [how] a scientist would try to bring a little bit of reality into this world of special moves and telekinesis and all that stuff. So she wants to know exactly why is this possible, how is it possible, and how I can use this.”

Preecha is also a Muay Thai master and star pupil of series comic relief Joe Higashi. She devastates foes with furious, wind-powered kicks, including lobbing small cyclones as projectiles. I enjoyed using her the most out of the available roster, but each character offered a good time, whether I was German suplexing foes as the masked wrestler Tizoc or firing uppercut blasts as Rock. In addition to looking cool, the roster speaks to a broader audience, quite literally, thanks to a new English localization.

The REV system serves as City of the Wolves’ big new addition, giving players enhanced attacks to bolster their offense. REV Blows are powerful, near-unblockable supercharged attacks; REV Guard serves as an enhanced block; REV Arts are flashy cinematic combo attacks; and REV Accel is a speedy assault of sorts. Using these moves gradually fills the constantly draining REV meter, which replenishes when you land attacks. However, filling the meter sends the fighter into an overheated state, rendering REV moves unavailable until they “cool off” and the meter empties. Managing this meter creates an interesting pendulum swing that kept me from relying on REV moves too often, lest I lose them entirely and give my opponent a window to unleash their own REV-based assaults. Thankfully, the REV meter also doesn’t feel restrictive or like it discourages REV use overall due to how rapidly the meter drains.

The T.O.P system from Mark of the Wolves returns in expanded form as the S.P.G. (Selective Potential Gear) bar. At the start of each fight, players choose to place this bar at the front, middle, or end of the health meter. When your HP falls within the S.P.G. section, you gain benefits such as increased attack power, the ability to unleash Rev Blows, and health regen. Thus, the placement of the S.G.P. matters. Are you an aggressive player from the jump? Place the S.G.B bar at the front so you begin the match at your strongest. You could place it at the end to act as a powerful last stand. I enjoy the strategy the S.G.B. bar brings, both for myself and for knowing when to turn up the heat when my opponent’s vitality approaches theirs.

These systems complement a fighting system that already feels very fine-tuned. Playing matches against A.I. and other journalists was a challenging blast. I loved unleashing combination attacks while leveraging my REV meter. You can also execute Feints, special fake-out moves to trick your opponent into rushing in or backing off. Braking allows you to cancel out of combos in progress. Using returning mechanics, like Just Defend, in which you block at the last second for a quicker recovery, adds to the game’s enjoyable technical-based combat.

In a nod to recent fighting game trends, City of the Wolves features an optional, streamlined control scheme called Smart Style. This option simplifies the execution of dazzling special attacks by mapping them to a single button plus a directional input. For veterans, Arcade Style offers the default, more technical control setup, and it’s nice to see Fatal Fury continue the positive trend of inviting players of all skill levels to its world.

I’ve never been the most enthusiastic Fatal Fury fan in the world, but I’m very impressed with how thrilling City of the Wolves is, especially this far from release. SNK has a promising start, and while Oda wasn’t ready to divulge details on other modes and features, the core one-on-one fighting is in a strong place. Fighting game fans have feasted well the last few years, and Fatal Fury: City of the Wolves looks to offer another delicious serving in early 2025.

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lizbethborden · 6 months

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Here is, at last, an itemized list of my various problems and thoughts with The Fall of the House of Usher. Before you block, unfollow, report, and make a callout post, please be aware that I have an extensive blackmail list. Grazie

Flanagan is flanagan and incapable of not being moralizing and didactic. I think he takes one of Stephen King's problems to the nth degree which is a kind of... sentimentalism and a belief that Good Can Come From Horror. The need for horror to be meaningful and redemptive and in some capacity... joyous? Or at least morally Useful in the fashion of Victorian lit? doesn't make amazing art

He needs to let go of constantly casting his wife and their friends. Every time he brings in someone who's not in the "inner circle" they contribute more strongly and effectively than everyone else.

Case in point, Mary McDonnell. I know I came into the show liking her due to BSG Brainrot and Laura Roslin Pussy Disease, but frankly she can be inconsistent especially with bad directing; whereas here I think she actually provides a very strong foundation because, even though she's working with substandard material, she doesn't have to stretch herself very far to play Steely, Soft-Spoken Matriarch so she does ok--and "ok" is better than a lot of the rest of the cast. Same thing with Mark Hamill: he was such a bright point in this show and it was a great use of his skills in transforming physically as well as vocally. Carl Lumbly similarly did his absolute best with shite material and his role as being functionally a prop/occasional commentator in the frame narration.

The same thing happened when he brought in T'Nia Miller in Bly Manor and she blew the roof off that show. But now she's folded into the inner circle and she does amazing with what she's got, but pLEASE free her.

STOP. CASTING. KATE SIEGEL. PLEASE!!!!! And STOP casting that man playing Young Roderick, he gave NOTHING to the role, he contributed NOTHING. Mr. Gerald's Game literally carried the Roderick characterization all on his own. Can we say if he did well? Perhaps he didn't. But he was putting in the work.

There is an obsessive need to do too much, all at once, that really kills whatever minor crumbs of decent writing or atmosphere they manage to sprinkle around. Why do we need so many references to Poe that have so little to do with the original stories? Wouldn't it be more effective to pick 2-3 and do them right in a more tightly written story than to swing the bat at 8-10 works and maybe only hit 1 or 2 out of the park?

😭 listen, I'm not a genius nor can I or would I ever claim to understand the Black experience. But I certainly doubt a gay Black man in a government job in the 1970s would namedrop his male partner to a complete, white, heterosexual stranger, not even as a manipulative technique to create false intimacy or camaraderie. (Similar thing happened in Bly Manor where a Black woman who wanted to be a high-powered lawyer(?) took a job as a lawyer(?)'s NANNY to try to get a career opportunity with him? Um?) (Question marks after each instance of lawyer because I remember VERY little about the show honestly.)

The treatment of bisexuality as this decadent bourgeois predatory sexuality is actually INSANE in Usher. Please believe me when I say I am pro "bad rep," but Flanagan does not have a good history of thoughtful treatment of sexual minorities, especially female ones (cf. treatment of Trish [also an example of exoticising and marginalizing racism] and Theo [and to some extent Nell] in Hill House, the Jamie/Dani storyline in Bly Manor). And the way sex overall is portrayed and handled is soooo Everyone Is Beautiful And No One Is Horny.

There is this problem with all of Flanagan's adaptations, and Bryan Fuller does the same thing (I've seen it in both Hannibal and American Gods), where they just wholesale poach lines from the author's narration or other works and give it to their characters as dialogue. In this one they even have the grotesque indecency to have Roderick be the "author" of multiple of Poe's poems. HOW? WHY? HOW? WHY? Additionally, when they do this with the narration, it doesn't make sense as dialogue. Human beings don't talk like that except in very rare instances or if they're very pretentious. It just doesn't make sense. It's a failure of writing and imagination on the adaptor's part because they're not confident in their ability to visually create the atmosphere that the written line conjured and it's actually pathetic.

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razzberrydazz · 4 months

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📌Pinned post📌

Call me Razz!

This blog may contain adult-themed content at times, viewer discretion advised 🔞

I strive to be a safe space for trans people, aro and ace people, and neurodivergent people! I am here for gender fuckery and silliness and T4T relationships and toxic yuri!

This is NOT a safe space for bio-essentialists, zionists, TERFs, aphobes, or anti-vaxxers! I'm apt to block those who attempt to argue or simply annoy me. I deal with enough draining conversations irl, I'm not here to deal with it on my blog.

Only free range cage-free home grown art and writing and voices here! I like my shitposts all organic made by a real person! Keep that grubby slimy stealing scraping database software away from my work!

My Ao3 (some of it is Explicit🔞)

My Bluesky (also may be Explicit🔞)

My tags

My art

My writing

My rambles

Main OCs

Tiffany - originally a D&D NPC in my first homebrew campaign (Heart of Atlantis my beloved), then I grew to love her too much to leave her be.

Tiffany Mereign, ie Tiff, ie Theophania Athaliah Wilhelmina Fen’U-darah Mereign the Third, Queen of Atlantis, formerly Empress of the Atlantean Empire (now dissolved). Sea elf royalty, born on December 27th 1049ce, took the throne with her father as Regent in 1087ce after the assassination of her mother Larethire II. She fully took the crown and throne in 1139-1140ce after killing her father Elias for his numerous crimes.

The D&D campaign Tiff first appeared in took place in 1139-40 where the player character party helped Tiff revive a dead goddess and use her and another dead god's power to kill the usurper king Elias and end a war that threatened their people. Said goddess cursed Tiff to die a thousand deaths (not by her own hand) before she can finally rest, all because Tiff rejected the offer of ascension to godhood.

Rana - Ranarox La'Rouge, originally started as a Haunted One Bard/Rogue PC in a Curse of Strahd campaign, then got repurposed and fleshed out as my Dark Urge OC for Baldur's Gate 3. Raised in a circus and wooed by every pretty face they see, Rana does everything in their power to fend off the Red that swirls around their vision that brings the Urge to kill. If their eyes turn red and you are within melee range, it is already too late for you to run away.

Ina - (Belongs to my friend Poe, I just happen to be obsessed with her and am the leader of Ina's fanclub) Ina the Kobold is a chaos entity, a zealous oath of glory paladin devoted to a deified Hatsune Miku. She came into existence after my friend rolled up a completely randomized character for a D&D game, and quickly speared her way into my heart with her wacky antics and hilarious zeal for murder.

A little known tidbit about Ina is that she's a sleeper agent, Ina is not her full name. Her true name is Ignition, which is the trigger word to temporarily switch her from chaotic stupid kobold to calculated smart dragonborn. Her Ignition alter ego is scarily competent compared to Ina. She was created in a secret magical experiment and hatched from an irradiated dragonborn egg. Ignition voluntarily switches back into Ina the minute whatever mission or danger she was dealing with is complete, as Ina takes far less mental energy to exist as.

Erinyes - My demonsona as it were, a self insert that morphed kind of into their own entity. They're a cheese-loving fury demon called Erin-yes. I often use them as a chaotic mini-me, and a personification of my silliness and rage. Sometimes I'll shove them into things with varied success. In D&D they'd be a tiefling or cambion as a player character, but as an NPC they've appeared as a literal erinyes devil that tried to sell cheese to the players and tormented them at various points.

Claire - My rage-filled half-drow religiously traumatized cleric. She was raised in a cult to a goddess that stole the name of other gods - Adrestia Andraste, the Lady in White, a homebrew drow goddess of death. Her drow mother was the high priestess, and in order to become the next high priestess, Claire had to kill her mother in a ritual battle. She walked over enchanted coals and was baptized in holy fire to become the next high priestess of the cult, and doing so made her fireproof to everything but her own goddess's flames. On her back they etched an intricate tattoo that brands her as her goddess's chosen, which also allows her goddess to cause her searing pain when she does something she doesn't like. A proverbial shock collar.

Claire is bitter and jaded and tries to escape the cult many times, and eventually discovers the truth of her goddess's identity theft and devotes herself to the goddess's sister Lotte (the victim of the identity theft) instead. Lotte is a drow goddess of fate, death, and magic, and gives Claire the power to mend and tear the weave of magic. Claire is a chosen of both goddesses, one willingly, one unwillingly, and her mission is to break her ties to the Lady in White for good.

Frownless - Ah my favorite eldritch edgelord. Frownless, also called The Frownless or Freddie the Frownless, is a shapeshifter known as a shadowless - he doesn't cast a shadow on the ground. Shadowless are akin to eldritch changelings that are descendants of fallen angels exiled to a demiplane. They appear as orange-tinged red haired elvish people with four yellow eyes.

Frownless in particular is a notable specimen as he got exiled for killing his cousin in a fit of rage, then made a name for himself as an assassin and overall nuisance. He actually was hired by Tiff's father to kill her but he failed miserably and ended up working for her in a weird toxic relationship instead. He tried dropping a chandelier on her and missed. He loves catfishing people since he's a shapeshifter. I love using him as a punching bag.

OT - My old self insert that morphed into their own entity. This one in particular became tied to their dragon age elf iteration as my main Inquisitor Lavellan. OT is a dalish mage Inquisitor and lover of Josephine Montilyet. Originally I named her Overtaker as a funny play on Undertaker, and then I shortened it to OT for brevity, and even made it stand for different names involving the initials O and T. I even used her the first time I every played D&D in a oneshot where she ended up dying via magic item enchanted to cast power word kill!

I have a lot of OCs but only a few I routinely use, which as of making this post consist of the above. Other OCs include Lyn, Vrei'Dara, Billie, Domi, Inanna, Dela, Johanna, Jorster, Francis, Lotte, Minaeve, Jamboree, Riff, Kestrel, Grimshaw, Veronica, Atlantea, and many others.

Others TBA

Anyways enjoy my blog I guess? I'm so wordy at times, I know this is a whole ass wall of text to scroll through. You get an appreciative pat on the shoulder for reading through all this.

#pinned post #razzberry rambles #razz rambles

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hiccanna-tidbits · 2 years

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WHAT UP @ohlooksheswriting HAVE AN INDIRECT CONTRIBUTION TO HICCUNZEL MONTH

SO I think my main reservation about shipping romantic Hiccunzel has always been the fact that I stan Hiccanna and Jackunzel so hard, like. I simply cannot look at Rapunzel x Hiccup and NOT go “but what of Jack and Anna??? Are they now fated to not find true love??? They’re gonna be so sad D:”

So the obvious solution all along was to have Hiccup and Rapunzel date Anna, Jack, AND each other, EZ

And HiJack and Annunzel are pretty solid gay ships, so like??? It kinda WORKS???

And thus the RotBTD discord came up with Hijannunzel, which might well be the most blursed ship in existence XD Legit poly ships are too powerful. Once you start shipping them, it’s like “oh, this solves SO many problems??? And also if they all got married and got a tax break they’d be OP as hell??? And having a 3-way support system of awesome people to kiss and cuddle and hang out with would be SICK???”

ANYWAYS! I decided to style this so that I put a thing I think each pair would bond over between their pictures because I think it’d be neat!!!

Rapunzel & Hiccup: Art!!! He sketches, she paints, and they definitely draw each other and nerd out over different art styles together!!! Catch them on an art museum date any day. They’ve also definitely made art of each other, and the rest of the polycule. Rapunzel & Jack: Outdoorsy winter fun!!! Like Rapunzel is literally ALWAYS down for a gigantic, Extra snowball fight and you can’t change my mind. Punz just really likes being outside (I mean, she was locked inside for years, can you blame her???) and appreciates all the seasons, but like...overappreciates winter because she figures it could use the love XD Anna & Jack: Sweets!!! I am 1000% convinced both these kids are sugar junkies. Anna has a preference for chocolate obviously, but Jack will devour anything with a sugar content Tooth would absolutely not approve of. They also both adore hot cocoa, and you can’t change my mind. Anna & Hiccup: Dragons/animals in general!!! Anna’s such an animal whisperer in Frozen 1, like. She gets three ducklings to jump into her hands, befriends Hans’ horse, vents to her own horse, and sees a guy talking to his reindeer like a buddy and just immediately starts doing the same thing. Ain’t no one convincing me Anna wouldn’t think dragons were the coolest shit ever, and she would try to (perhaps unwisely) befriend every single one.

Couldn’t include in this one, BUT ALSO:

Jack & Hiccup: Flying and thrill-seeking!!! Like they both seem to be hardcore adrenaline junkies, if Jack letting the wind blow him around every which way and Hiccup literally inventing a funky winged device so he can fly with Toothless is anything to go by. These two would really love flying and exploring together! The adventures AND the poor decisions would be unparalleled XD Rapunzel & Anna: Flower appreciation!!! They both dun got big springtime vibes, and would probably be constantly picking wildflower bouquets for each other. I feel like they’d get into gardening, and try to befriend all the pollinator bugs--even the scary ones XD Love that they both have floral motifs, and Anna’s is a sunflower while Rapunzel’s is...a literal sun flower XD Also love the idea of them bonding over girly stuff in general, and doing things like dress-shopping and meadow-frolicking together :D

Anyways, they all share an apartment and have movie and video game nights where they all get into a cuddle pile on the couch and it’s wholesome and fantastic. They also like to crash fancy parties paired off and then stage dramatic “reveals” where they get caught cheating on each other and make a whole production out of it, solely to be chaotic. Also to snack on fancy little cheese blocks on toothpicks and crostini. Have a great rest of your night.

Pic credits available upon request!

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ac-goddess-of-destruction · 7 months

Text

LOOK OUT FOR THE LITTLE GUY

I've read the book (it's a really nice read, if you have the time and interest to read it, do it. You won't regret it.). Anyway, I've decided to compile all the mentions of Scott and Hope's relationship present in the book for those who won't read it for whatever reason. Warning: This is a LOOONG post (there are two full chapters of the book in here!). ALSO, all the credit goes to the writer(s) and all the people involved in its making. I literally just copied chunks of it and put it.

DEDICATION

TO MY TWO FAVORITE PARTNERS: HOPE AND CASSIE, THIS ONE’S FOR YOU!

INTRODUCTION

(Scott fills the readers in on all the events he was present from the first Ant-Man to the Civil War and then Endgame)

“That’s when—thanks to Thanos—half of all life in the universe disappeared. So no, no peace on Earth or anywhere else. I wasn’t around for those five years of missing people (you’ll find out why soon), but I came back just in time, jumped to a different timeline, fought, like, every bad guy in the universe on a field in upstate New York, helped the Avengers stop Thanos, and put all the people back where they belonged. Including, last but not least, putting my precious Hope back together with me!”

REDOS & REDON’TS

“I was five years behind the rest of the world just trying to process it. Then it suddenly got super-personal. As I soon came to learn, my newly adopted family—Hank, Hope, and Janet—were also no more.”

MAKING YOUR HOUSE ARREST…A HOME ARREST

“One advantage of having a house decorated “bachelor-style” is that there’s just about nothing for you to break or stain, and even if you do, no one will care. I didn’t have Hope around to disapprove of my mess (which, I have to admit, gave me a slight twinge of sadness every time I made one). So instead, I leaned in to the other “special girl” [Cassie] in my life and gave her every inch of grubby floor I could.”

[THE FREEDOM PARADOX]

“Under normal conditions, all day long I have nothing but options. I can basically fly (well, at least while riding an ant or catching a ride with Hope).”

Q: Besides having wings, is the Wasp suit the same as the Ant-Man one?

A: First of all, I’m going to pause on that “besides,” because I’ve still never gotten agood explanation from Hank about this obviously glaring injustice! He always mumbles some tech gibberish about “lift/drag issues,” and then suddenly he “has a meeting.”

But there are two main differences between the Wasp and Ant-Man suits that I’m aware of. One are these wrist- mounted gauntlets that can fire powerful blasters, which Hope has used in some key battles. The other difference, which I admittedly don’t fully understand, is a more intuitive—as opposed to manual—control system. Basically, I have to use buttons to change size, whereas Hope can just control this feature with her mind.

This allows her to amplify her strength. And, considering how strong she is at normal size, let me just say: Do not mess with the tiny Wasp!” - FAAMQ [Frequently Asked Ant-Man Questions]

ANT, INC.

(Scott is recounting the events of the 1st Ant-Man)

“So Hank started me on regular training sessions with my tiny future colleagues. (For the record, this was already on top of daily, physically exhausting combat training sessions with Hope. But that I didn’t mind as much, because, you know, getting to be with Hope!)”

“To really get through to ants, Hope and Hank had taught me that you have to maintain this extreme, almost meditative level of focus on precisely what you want to say to them.

Easier said than thought!

(...) Fortunately, Hope got to the heart of my problem. She helped me figure out that I couldn’t focus because ultimately I kept thinking about Cassie. So, like the martial- arts master she is, Hope showed me how to turn that from a weakness into a strength: to use that burning concern as a laser beam to focus my intentions, and block out everything else.”

“I climbed out of the mound, dejected and feeling like a failure. Definitely letting that mind of mine wander again, back to all the usual places. Hank is going to send me back to jail. Hope will never love me. I’ll never get to see Cassie again!

When I walked back into the lab, full-sized again, Hank as always had the perfect words for my current state of mind: “What the hell are you doing here?”

Fortunately, Hope was a little more sympathetic. Even though she still had her doubts about me, she also reminded her dad of how his early experiments with the EMP were huge fails.

(...) She counseled me on how to present myself as more than just not a threat—as someone who they willingly followed because I “got them.” Ants, just like people, respond better to direction from someone capable of seeing their perspective.

I hit the shrink button again and climbed back into the Hill, pondering Hope’s challenge.”

ANT-MAN & THE WASP: SECOND DATE, OR SECOND CHANCE?

(Entire chapter)

SOME COUPLES HAVE A “meet-cute.” Some meet online. Many more meet at a bar than is really advisable.

Hope and I had a meet-weird.

And I don’t mean just how, the first time we laid eyes on each other, I was waking up in her father’s bed, surrounded by a brigade of sentry ants prepared to devour me like a giant bread crumb. Or that we got to know each other’s “vulnerabilities” through weeks of brutal martial-arts training. Or that the first time we shared a tear, it wasn’t after an argument or a sappy movie. It was over the death of a half-inch-long insectile colleague named “Ant-thony.” (RIP wherever you are, little guy!)

And the way we originally met…? Let’s just say, how many relationships have you had that began with you breaking into your (future) partner’s dad’s basement to steal a piece of secret technology?

At least there was one way in which our relationship was typical: We had a little “difficult patch” and broke up for a while. But even then, the way we got back together was…okay, once again, weird. I want to share the story with you, because it kind of leads to later events with the Avengers. But one thing I’ve learned about being in a relationship (sometimes the hard way!) is that two different people can experience the same thing together…in two entirely different ways. So to make sure I’m getting the story straight, I’m sitting down with Hope to hear, and share, her take on what happened.

It all started right after our Pym Tech heist, when I was recruited by some Avengers to go fight some other Avengers. (See? It’s not just couples who have breakups.) Unfortunately, in doing so, I kind of borrowed the Ant-Man suit and took it to Germany without asking permission.

Hope has quite a different take on this. As she recounts it, “My father and I had just begun to trust you, and to think of you as someone who could possibly join the tight- knit circle of what we Pym/Van Dynes had devoted our lives to. In my mom’s case, what she’d sacrificed so much of her life for. And besides trust, I was starting to develop some…non-professional feelings for you, too. And then you went and betrayed everything.”

That perspective explains why Hope (and Hank) cut off all ties to me for the next two years while I was put under house arrest for acting as an “unregistered Super Hero” in that intra-Avenger fracas.

Still, you know me! I prefer to focus on the positive. Like Hope’s and my emotional reunion when she came to spring me from house arrest to help her and Hank.

But as before, Hope says she experienced somewhat…different feelings during that reunion. In her words: “Disgust. Did you spend the entire two years in that bathrobe? And also, disgust on a deeper level. Seeing you again, remembering you in Dad’s suit, and what you had done with it, it brought up all kinds of complicated feelings I’d been trying to put behind me.”

Fortunately for both of us (and eventually, the world) Hope doesn’t let any feeling get in the way of a mission. Especially one involving her mother. Janet Van Dyne, wife of Hank, formerly known as The Wasp, had been trapped in the Quantum Realm for decades, but she had recently found a way to contact us. And now we were going to try to find her by going back into Hank’s Quantum Tunnel.

Except to do that, we needed a key component, and the only way we could get it was from this sleazebag underground tech dealer named Sonny Burch. So we set up a meeting with him to buy it. Only, during that meeting, Burch figured out who Hope was and double-crossed her to steal Hank’s lab, which had been shrunk down to the size of a suitcase.

Hope, again, remembers this a bit differently. According to her, “There was no ‘we.’ It was me alone at that skeevy hotel bar with Burch and his cronies, then suddenly I was fighting them off alone, then you showed up too late, then you let that glowing woman named ‘Ghost’ run off with the lab!”

I’m not sure this is a completely fair assessment. But I can see why Hope felt that way, because at that point, she was still very untrusting of me. Our first meetup in two years, and the first thing I do is put her dad’s life’s work in jeopardy—for the second time.

Scott “glass half full of Pym Particles” here again: We got the suitcase lab back!

However, Hope reminds me, “Actually, before that, we got captured by Ghost—who was only going to let us go if we healed her quantum energy problems by killing my mom!”

Obviously, that was unacceptable, so we managed to escape, got the tunnel working again, and even, finally, got into direct communication with Janet Van Dyne. What a relief!

Again, though, from Hope’s POV, “relief” wasn’t what she was feeling. She reminds me that it wasn’t exactly direct communication, as—thanks to a bizarre property of the Quantum Realm—Janet was actually speaking through me.

As she puts it, “Can you imagine anything more disturbing than hearing your long-thought- to-be-dead mother’s words coming out of your ex-boyfriend’s mouth?”

Honestly, I can’t. And I’d really rather not try.

But still, we’d actually found Janet! And now the only challenge was figuring out how we could get into the Quantum Realm to rescue her.

Here, too, Hope remembers a few more complications. “There was also the fact your prison buddies had ratted Dad and me out, getting us arrested by the FBI. Plus Ghost still had my dad’s stolen work.”

Of course, she’s right, and that was a really rough road. I don’t mean to downplay it. I think it was just that, because Hope and I had survived tougher scrapes, my confidence in us—a confidence that I understand she wasn’t quite feeling at that point—was keeping me going.

And this is where I’m really glad I asked Hope to join me for this, because what she says next is a bit of a revelation to me…

“Scott, you don’t know what it was like growing up with Hank Pym as a father…seeing how important all of this was to him…feeling how he lived and died over every breakthrough and setback. And here we were, on the cusp of losing all of it.”

She’s right. I really had no clue about how deeply all this cut for her until now. Both Hope and Hank play things so close to the vest, sometimes it’s hard to see how hard the disappointments hurt them where it counts.

But to get back to the story, I definitely owed Hank Pym a “Get Out of Jail Free” card, so I used some of my old ex-con skills to bust us out of FBI custody. Then we took on Ghost, endured a seemingly endless series of car chases, and battled back and forth for possession of that shrunken lab all the way to San Francisco Bay. That’s where I used the suit to go giant and snatch Hank’s lab back once and for all.

As I talked about briefly before, using Pym Particles to turn gigantic takes a toll. Although I successfully grabbed the (then, to me, minuscule) lab, I also lost consciousness and plunged into the bay—where the World’s Greatest Super Hero rescued me from a watery grave.

Hope seems okay with this description.

Then, after a tiny-hair-raising expedition into the Quantum Realm, Hank managed to get Janet back out. Whew! All’s well that ends well.

Right?

At this point, Hope remains silent for a minute. Then, slowly and carefully, she speaks. “I spent that day in absolute terror about my mom.”

She continues, “And that was on top of all the tough stuff we’d been through. Someone always going to prison. Multiple sociopaths trying to kill us, sometimes at the same time. And then, having my mom come back from what we thought was the dead after three decades? I know I act like nothing fazes me, but it was a lot.”

She’s right. It was. And here’s what I’m telling Hope, and what I also want to tell you, about whatever you’re going through—on the inside or outside. Whether it involves glowing quantum ladies or not:

You don’t have to deal with this alone.

In a strange way, I think that insight might be part of how Hope and I eventually managed to patch things up. I had broken her and her Dad’s trust, massively. But during all this we found a way of connecting again.

You see, Hope didn’t share a lot of what she was going through at the time. In fact, I’m just finding out about a lot of it right now, as I write this!

But as the two of us dove back into the fray together, part of me was working twice as hard to show her how dedicated I was to her and her dad (and mom)—to prove how much they meant to me. I’d like to think that just enough of that “being there 200 percent” got through to her.

And since I don’t see Hope shaking her head “No,” I’ll keep going and conclude with one more thought:

“Being there 200 percent” is something we all can do for each other, no matter what kind of relationship we’re in. Or what relationship we’re trying to mend. I managed to prove to Hope that she wasn’t alone, because I was there—and not going anywhere.

And on this point, Hope says our stories are in perfect alignment.”

SIDE BY SIDE SUPER HEROING WITH YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHER

(Entire chapter)

“OKAY, SO NOW HOPE and I were back together, for what seemed like the long haul. Which meant we were now facing one of those paradoxes of life: Sometimes you fight the most with the one you love. But what if you’re also simultaneously fighting Super Villains?

Clearly disregarding the time-tested maxim “Don’t date at work,” I’ve come to appreciate both the perks and pitfalls of this lifestyle.

Confusingly, though, those perks and pitfalls often go hand in hand. To illustrate what I mean, imagine working, very closely and on a daily basis, with the person you’re most attracted to in the world. And then, during that work, seeing them at their very best: strong, steady, steely under even the most terrifying conditions. Always cool-headed and mission-focused. And to top it all off, bringing all those qualities to the service (and usually, life-saving) of others!

Sometimes it takes more than Super Hero strength to not feel overwhelmed by a gusher of love and admiration.

And when you do find yourself with them in a moment of respite, especially if it happens to be in a beautiful location (hey, Super Villains like to get outside sometimes, too), it can get very confusing. Part of your brain is screaming, “Remember why you two are here together,” while another part is murmuring, “Hey, couldn’t we just steal a moment to enjoy this nice place we ended up together?”

To say nothing of those situations when you’re trapped with them in a very small space and are reminded of just how darn good she always smells.

And that’s one of the good problems!

A larger complication in this perpetually unbalanced work-life balance is what I call fighting other battles. Perhaps this rings true in your relationships as well? You’re yelling and screaming at each other over the stupidest thing, and often it’s not until later that you realize that all that rage was not even truly about that thing! It was about a completely different stupid thing that you were annoyed about earlier, but which never got resolved.

The dangerous part is when that pent-up unfought fight spills over into the actual life-or-death one you’re currently engaged in. “Oh, so you can aim that reducing disc right at an oncoming military transport vehicle, but you can’t toss a T-shirt into the laundry hamper?” “Oh, so you’ll take three punches to the head from a mercenary but you’re afraid to try one bite of my world- famous ‘Chili Dog Meatloaf’?”

The good news is, there’s a quick way out of any of these intertwined battles. It’s by reciting a set of words so devastatingly powerful, even Doctor Strange has nothing that competes.

Those magical words? “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

Another anxiety I’ve felt in all my relationships, but which takes on a sharper hue on the battlefield, is one I call exposing your true self.

And I don’t mean that alter-ego/secret identity game. Let’s face it: Ever since Tony Stark straight-up announced to the world, “I am Iron Man!” that whole move has lost its subversive cool factor. Nowadays, the only reaction I get from clearing my throat, retracting my helmet, and proclaiming in a deep, rich, dramatic baritone, “I am Ant- Man,” is, “Noted. And would Ant-Man like curly fries with that?”

No, what I’m talking about is revealing your worst traits to the last person you’d ever want to think any less of you.

For me, that worry comes up around the issue of showing fear around Hope. Which I know, on an intellectual level, is just silly. Maybe it’s a hero complex (yes, even actual heroes get them). But for me at least it’s real, and it’s a constant struggle.

And what’s odd is, it’s not really even my biggest problem. I’m fairly proud of the fact that—whether facing down one half of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes or the Universe’s Biggest Threat—I don’t scare that easily. But Hope doesn’t even seem capable of fear. It’s like the woman was born without an amygdala. Or maybe she’s just trained it out of herself, with that same steely drive and determination that first made her a hero and now has made her a business leader.

Either way, the upshot is, when I get even just a little bit scared, I get more scared of Hope seeing me scared. If that was confusing to follow, imagine trying to keep a handle on it in the middle of a fight.

Sometimes in the heat of battle, I can’t help but stop and think, “She likes me?” This usually happens right before I get knocked unconscious.

Another challenge to my sense of combat-time couple zen is temper. When all your senses are locked onto defeating your foe, you don’t have a lot of mental gas left in the tank to choose your words carefully. So what happens when the two of you have a plan, but it’s swiftly going wrong? Or even worse, when the plan is still good but one of you forgot or screwed up their part? And the bad guy is using that advantage to close in!

There was this one time when the two of us were cut off from out resizing controls, a set of mechanical gears were getting to chew up, and Hope felt, correctly, that we could have escaped the situation more easily had I loaded in the magnetized grappling hook rather than the unmagnetized one.

However, Hope chose to express this sentiment in language… so colorful, it informed me that she indeed know a four-letter would besides “can’t.”

Now, in even the most benign situations, the tendency in a couple is to lash out, because you know the other person can “take it”. You feel, as it were, safe.

But in battle, you’re literally the opposite of safe.

And you know that expression “Watch out or you might say something you regret”? In the civilian world, that’s of course great advice, along with “Never go to bed angry.” You really do never know with 100 percent certainty if you might never see a loved one alive again. But for romantically connected Super Heroes, there’s a very high statistical chance this is the very last thing you ever say to them!

Long story short, Hope and I obviously survived that near-metal mastication, as did our relationship. It just takes some getting used to, that idea that you have to fight to preserve both at the same time.

Another layer to that self-consciousness, which might be unique to me but I suspect really isn’t, is that additional meta-fear of letting her dad down. Nowadays I think I’ve proved myself to Hank Pym as a proper heir to the Ant-Man suit. But in a funny way, having earned his approval, now I feel even more anxious about losing even a drop of it. Maybe because it was so hard-won, or maybe because I’m starting to see him as a role model for the kind of hero I want to be.

Now obviously, Hope is in every possible way her own person who makes her own decisions. But somehow, subconsciously, there’s still a part of me that feels like I’m living on a borrowed time. Like one day, I’m going to screw things up too much, and Hank is going to swoop in (likely ferried by a river of ants) and say, “Nope. This phase of the ‘experiment’ is over.”

So that, along with the other stuff, translates into a kind of perfectionism I try to hold myself to all the time, which is completely unrealistic. And going completely impossible to remove from the ongoing soundtrack of “You don’t really deserve this, Scott” that lives in my brain 24/7. Even though I’ve bounced back countless times, there’s a still a live, burning piece of me that sees myself as no more than convict/divorcé/absentee dad. It takes more mental energy than I’d like to quiet that voice, or at least convince it that others don’t see me that way. And when things sometimes go south with Hope, as they do in all relationships, I can hear it shouting, “You see? She knows you’re still no go at the core.”

It also doesn’t help when I remember how happy my ex Maggie is with her new guy. That accusatory voice now switches over and starts asking, “Are you just standing in the way of Hope being much happier with another guy?”

Now the good news is, having lived and loved through this rocky terrain, I’ve found some bright spots as well. One is that Hope and I—like most couples who’ve been together for a while—have a secret language. Shorthand, absurd names, shared references, and inside jokes that can be as helpful in situations with no time to spare as it is annoying when we play Charades with friends. Cracking those jokes can also be critical to boosting each other’s morale in moments when all seems lost. On the other hand, an inopportune but uncontrollable snicker can also be the thing that fatally gives away your position.

Along these lines, we’ve also developed a pretty keen talent for anticipating the other’s move. No, not the way you’re undoubtedly thinking—on the dance floor. There’s no hope for me there. But when we’re locked in combat, even a telepath couldn’t keep up with the speed of our nonverbal communication.

And as unbelievable as it sounds, taking on evil can be a really helpful form of relationship building. Love experts say that for a couple to stand the test of time, they should have an “indoor hobby” and an “outdoor hobby”. Fortunately, when you’re going on high-stakes missions, you often get both of those things in one afternoon.

Heroing it up together also helps with your sense of relationship chill. Put simply, after a long day or week or quantum half-decade of battling baddies, the two of us just come home and collapse of the sofa. Which is heaven. We get to do normal couple things, like disagree over who’s killing the plants faster. Hope gets to let guard down and get extremely, almost frighteningly passionate over who needs to go home from Dating-Show Island. I get to see her actually, atypically, be bad at something. (For example: When we play a video game together….well, let’s just say that Hope would probably better mowing down zombies in real life—not like that would ever happen!)

But the main saving is, we’re just too exhausted to argue about anything. Which I admit doesn’t help with the “unresolved issues” point I made above. But it’s a nice feeling to come home and settle into. It makes out humble, slightly stained sofa feel more secure than even the Raft prison.

And that feeling is just one example of how what Hope and I do together helps us appreciate couplehood. There are soooo many “troubled loners” in our profession, on both the good and evil side, it almost seems like a job requirement.

By contrast, Hope and I balance each other.

She’s calm, I’m alert. She’s sky, I’m earth. She commands, I obey.

But all these perks of being “heroes with benefits” pale next to the biggest one of all. The greatest advantage to being lovers and fighters is that it gives you a true sense of life’s priorities. A lot of the time we Super Heroes don’t exactly see the people we’re saving; we have to just to hold the idea in our heads, abstractly. In our case, we see what’s at stake every moment, and then Hope races me into the house, wins (of course), flashes me that incredibly hard-won half smile, and a light in my heart comes on and recharges all my batteries at once.

Put simply, every day the two of us come back home together, in one piece, is a miracle, a precious gift. The most precious gift, to which no super-power granted by serum or gamma ray or technology could compare.

And when you’ve got that, you are the most literal definition of invincible.”

FROM BEGINNING TO ENDGAME

“Okay, so as I was just recounting last chapter, I wasn’t actually around for the Blip myself. But I got filled in on what had happened by Nat and Cap. And now our next move was to go crash Tony Stark’s cabin in the woods with my idea for fixing things: using the Quantum Realm to bring everyone back.

(…) Then again, what if it didn’t work? What if I unleashed the cruelty of getting everyone’s hopes up in an already unbearable time, only to squash them for good? What if I failed the Avengers—and Hope?

(…) I made a final emotional plea to Tony: “I know you have a lot on the line. You have a wife, a daughter. But I lost someone… very important to me. A lot of people did. And now—now we have a chance to bring her back, to bring everyone back, and you’re telling me that you won’t even—

Tony interrupted, “That’s right, Scott: I won’t even. I can't.””

(Scott is recounting the Battle at the Avengers Compound after Thanos and his Army raid —post Smart Hulk Snap)

“And… could it be? My giant heart skipped a beat at the sight of a very familiar pair of mechanized wings.

Wasp wings.

Our second snap had brought back millions.

And yet at this moment, it took only one of them for me to finally feel like my world had come back. Hope and hope together, a sight so beautiful it seemed to gleam straight into my tinted helmet.”

“To Cap, though, that was just my next assignment. He told me to get the van tunnel working, and they’d get the Stone to me.

(…) And then I felt a hand on my shoulder. Hope was by my side. As always. And suddenly the path felt completely clear.

We gave each other a look, a with one mind we went tiny, and we went for it.”

GO BIG, THEN GO HOME

“I hit the regulator button and BOOM! Big Me. (…) What I didn’t expect was that I would suddenly feel off-balance. I began to teeter, which is the last thing you want when you’re in a position to squash tens of millions of dollars’ worth of equipment plus an amazing woman you really, really want to love you.

Even worse, on the inside I was flailing for emotional balance.

(…) what if I let down Hope, and Hank?”

REGRETS? I’VE HAD A TON

“A lot of people have asked me how I managed to ruin a perfectly good marriage with Maggie. Well, I’ve given this a lot of thought over a lot of time, and I’ve finally come to understand what my biggest mistake was in this case.It was sharing with my life partner everything. Not just my own “plans” regarding VistaCorp. That was more like the final straw in a lot of “strategic miscommunications” on my part.

(…) But then of course I wouldn’t be with Hope.”

“Another bad move buried inside a good move was how I handled the big airport fight in Germany.

Nor—and this is still painful—do I completely regret doing this in secret from Hank and Hope, with equipment I stile from them. In fairness, there was just no way I could have told them. If they were caught and questioned about it—and admitted they knew what I was up to and didn’t stop me—they’d be liable as accomplices. Which would extra piss off Hope because she prefers to think of me as the accomplice.”

ANT ON THE WALL

“Q: Will you marry me?

A: What a sweet note! I’m so flattered, but I’m also still definitely with Hope.

However, I will print this out for the next time we have a fight and she makes me sleep on the Ant-Couch.” – FAAMQ [Frequently Asked Ant-Man Questions]

FROM ANT TO MAN

“Q: What was the Quantum Realm like?

A: (…) to be fair, I only spent what felt like five hours there, most of them focusing all my attention on trying to escape and screaming, “HOOOOPE!”” – FAAMQ [Frequently Asked Ant-Man Questions]

SUNDAY IN THE LAB WITH HANK

(Not LangDyne but so wholesome)

“And then, only then, did Hank Pym drop his ultimate bombshell:

“Actually, son, seems like you’ve picked up on it [using the suit] pretty well, too. Other than Janet or Hope, there’s no one I trust more with my tech.””

“Q: Would you be willing to auction off a date with you for our charity?

A: How flattering! I do like to help out whenever I can for a good cause. I’d love to.

However, just some fair warning: Beyond the fact that I’m still with Hope, I am lousy on a date!” – FAAMQ [Frequently Asked Ant-Man Questions]

SIZING IT ALL UP

(The bit Scott is reading at the beginning of Ant-Man and The Wasp: Quantumania)

“What can I say? Sometimes you just get lucky. I’m lucky I met Hope Van Dyne. I think you know who she is by now. She’s taken back her dad’s company. Now she’s using the Pym Particle for global change. A lot of people say they want to save the world. But Hope—she saves it every day. Reforestation. Affordable housing. Food production. She’s not wasting a second.

I still can’t believe it; none of this should have happened. But it did.

One thing I admire most about Hope and her work is how she’s not sitting back, wondering how bad things could have gone differently. She’s taking charge and making change. Hope is racing ahead to fix future things now. She’s moved on in a way that I’m still struggling to do.

And don’t get me wrong: It’s not that I’m trapped in negativity. Sure, our planet will continue to face threats and problems. But on the whole, it’s a pretty good world. I’m glad we saved it.”

(Not LangDyne stuff or references but really nice bits that some people need to hear from someone, even if it is from a fictional character)

“You are in this place and time for a reason, and no one else is. And so—when that next uncertain, unlikely, “impossible” step is revealed to you—I urge you with every particle in my body, Pym or otherwise, to turn that “Why me?” into a “Why not me?””- Chapter “Introduction”

“Well, you know the old cliché “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade”?

That cliché wants to force you to create your next move out of what you’ve been given. But there’s one very important word in there that’s often ignored: YOU.

In other words, forget the lemons. Life has already given you a you that’s like no other. And that’s what you’re better off making stuff out of.” - Chapter “Redos & Redon’ts”

“Tears are acidic, which means they dissolve stuff. But not just chemically—spiritually. They don’t dissolve your strength. They dissolve the glue that keeps you sealed into an earlier version of yourself.” - Chapter “Redos & Redon’ts”

“You are so much more than who you “were.”

Especially as you get further away from what shaped you in the past. You aren’t limited by who you are. Or at least the way others describe you.

You are what you can do. To rebuild is to take what you know how to do—no matter how unconventional or questionable that skill might seem to you now—and figure out how to do it differently. How to use it to take your life in a new direction. A better one.” - Chapter “Redos & Redon’ts”

“Maybe this was just the quantum physics talking, but I saw that I was always a different me, depending on when I was observed.

And that—more than any of Bruce’s devices—gave me the clarity to find my way to the right me.

But take it from me: You don’t need to experiment with quantum physics to get that insight for yourself. You already contain so many more versions of you than you can imagine. You just to locate them, accept their benefits and liabilities, and turn those into the best mixture of yous possible. Because that’s the you that the world needs now.

You’ve got it all inside you. You just need to learn to let it out.” – Chapter “Ages Of Lang”

“(…) regret traps us. Introspection frees us.” – Chapter “Regrets? I’ve Had A Ton”

“I want to tell you something important: You, in the exact life you’re right now, can be a hero, too.

(…) you may not have super abilities, but you definitely already have two incredible powers: a heart to care, and a voice to speak out. All you have to do is learn to use them.

First, heart.

(…) A little friendly human interaction—even something as simple as a smile or a compliment on their funny T-shirt—is a way of saying, “I see you, and I don’t take you for granted.”

(…) The good news is, you don’t need Pym Particles to instantly make someone feel bigger. Just like you can use your heart to join forces with the little guys, you can use your voice to join them on the battlefield.

To be clear, I’m not necessarily saying suggesting you jump in and meddle in someone’s life! People’s boundaries are critical and fragile, and they need to be respected.”

(…) We humans have gotten used to ignoring, overlooking, or flat-out denying the signal that says, “I’m in a bad place”, but it’s often in our faces. And there’s no hiding it.

So when you detect that signal, that’s your time to move.

(…) Don’t just go for the “is everything okay?” because that’s the megaphone problem again. It might just trigger them to redouble their emotional armor and retreat further into their lonely smallness.

Instead, try something like, “I’m here if you need me.” Nine times out of ten, they won’t actually take you up on the offer. Honestly, what they’re most likely to pick up on are just those two powerful first words: “I’m here”. Just that reminder, that they’re not alone, can make someone feel like they’re giant enough to the challenges ahead.” – Chapter “Look-Out-For-The-Little Guide”

1.TIME MATTERS

“(…) There is no time but the present! Everything you want to do, everyone you want to be, and everyone you want to be with—chase all that down today!

Don’t wait, because trust me, none of it will wait for you.” – Chapter “A Letter To My Daughter (That For Some Reason You People Are Also Reading)

2.SIZE MATTERS

“(…) We spend so much of our time operating in fear of other people—their judgment, their regard, their powerful emotions. But at the end of the day, they really don’t have the power to make or break us—no matter how they may act when we’re all the same size.

(…) Seeing the world at tiny scale makes a person truly appreciate all the tiny things—the things we too often overlook. It makes me mindful of the infinitude of miracles holding everything we care about together. It’s enough to make me truly grateful.

And trust me: Gratitude can give you more strength and energy than any power source in the galaxy.” – Chapter “A Letter To My Daughter (That For Some Reason You People Are Also Reading)”

3.SIZE DOESN’T MATTER

(…) Never let yourself get defined by anyone else’s notions of how “big” or “small” you are in their eyes. You alone decide your size, with or without a fancy red size-changing button.

And that also means you—and nobody else—are in charge of deciding when to make yourself “big” or “small” in any given situation. Be big when speaking up against an unfair boss, a disrespectful partner, and an unjust government or corporation.

And also: Be small enough to admit fault, as well as what you don’t know or need to learn.” – Chapter “A Letter To My Daughter (That For Some Reason You People Are Also Reading)”

“You never really know which moments of your life will turn out to be the best ones that mean the most. So you might as well embrace all of them!” – Chapter “Sizing It All Up”

“(…) we humans—all humans—have been given this very unique power to mentally liberate ourselves from our present moment. So what do we do with that? That’s the cool part. We’re all ultimately the authors of our own story. Of course I don’t mean we get to determine our own outcome. But we do get to decide something ultimately even more precious:

What every beat of our story means.” – Chapter “Sizing It All Up”

“You might say we all have an origin story, and that story is always being told.” – Chapter “Sizing It All Up”

“Now just to be clear, having our lives mean something isn’t the same as having it all make sense.

(…) Because what I’ve learned is, it’s not up to other people or forces to “make sense” for us. We have to make it ourselves.” – Chapter “Sizing It All Up”

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