#(to be fair this is a long-winded way of saying 'just be a nice person'

[yuri-is-online]

You, I, and the Wall (Azul, Jade, and Floyd x Yuu)

You lie on the ground taking deep breaths, searching around you for three objects you can name while you try to force your ears to tune into the noises around you. The three boys surrounding you look concerned, almost like you're crying but you can't really bring yourself to care right now. It's not like they care anyway, you think; an upset person is just inconvenient to deal with.

"It's my fault." You try to reassure them with a shaky breath. "I'm the one who made the mistake of feeling safe."

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, heavy angst, SPOILERS FOR CH. 4, specifically how Jamil's UM might make someone feel (as in not good, forcing someone to do stuff they do not want to is not nice). If you like this please check out my masterlist here (x)

Floyd

"I bet you'd rather be talkin to Crabby right now, huh?" Floyd almost sounds self depreciating, there's a haze of tears clouding your judgment that makes him feel a bit safer in his vulnerability. "Sorry I'm all that's here right now." He makes sure to stay just far enough from you that you don't feel like he's crowding your personal space, but close enough that there's a barrier between you and the door the Scarabia students fled through. If those guppies thought there was any sort of excuse for putting you into this state he would accept, well there wasn't. If they thought he had forgotten their faces they had a gigantic storm coming, but he needed to make sure you were alright first. Hurricane's can't start until the eye is calm.

"I tried calling Ace, he didn't answer." Your voice sounds so unlike you, weak and tired. "Same with Deuce."

"Ha, dunno about Mackey but Crabby's definitely scratching at the walls if you told him you're in trouble." He means it, and he hates how he knows it will calm you down. Floyd doesn't like the sidelines, that's where Jade thrives, not him. Being jealous that Ace is calming you down even though he's not here is petty and kind of pathetic. But he can't help it, the way he moves and looks is scary, but surely if he looks at you long enough you'll realize-

"You ain't gotta believe me now," he mumbles to himself, slowly shuffling closer to you, satisfying his urge to squeeze by pinching your cheek, "already knew I was gonna have to work on that, but I don't ever want to see you like this again." Finally you look at him instead of away; you are confused and tired but finally comfortable enough to let your exhaustion put you to sleep. He used to think he loved every face you could make, and he can't say he never wants to see you scared because of how cute you look spooked, but this, this wasn't fun. You'll just have to let him be the only one to scare you from here on out, he thinks, gently picking you up off the ground to take you somewhere more comfortable.

Jade

To be fair, Jade had expected you to try hitting him a lot sooner than this. He also had to admit it was extremely... lovely of you to have enough control over yourself to stop just before landing the blow.

"No fighting in the lounge, that's the rule right?" Your entire body is tense, even as you retract the fist and retreat into yourself, away from the table, away from him. Azul laughs awkwardly while pushing forward in discussing the Scarabia situation, but Jade keeps his eyes on you.

"Of course for a magicless person like yourself there would be no way to resist being hypnotized. Really someone could have given you whatever orders they wanted to and ordered you not to remember-"

In hindsight maybe, compared to some of the other observations he has voiced out loud, that one was a touch harsh.

"I am quite sorry if I caused offense." He says. Still tense, you take in a deep shuddering breath, winding up for something. His hands fold contentedly, wondering if you will try to hit him again. Given his comments, he doesn't mind letting you.

"Fuck off." You sound so small you want to die but the shock that unwinds on his face is somewhat satisfying. He wonders, as you try to walk away again, just how it would feel to be powerless to say no. To be small and alone in a world you don't belong in, forced to do something by someone against your will and then made fun of by someone strikingly similar for not being able to protect yourself.

It's an ugly thought, but he wonders if anyone has ever made you feel this small before, if he is making you feel that small now.

"I did not say what I did to mock you." Jade is surprised by the strength of his conviction, and how little he thinks to blame you if you choose not to forgive him. "If the thought of that person's magic scares you, please stay close to Floyd. He will be able to keep you safe." To his great relief some tension leaves your shoulders, and he dares to risk a step forward. "I should hope this goes without saying, but what happened to you was not your fault, nor was it acceptable."

"You trying to say Octavinelle has a monopoly on exploiting me?" There's an edge to the question that will take time to dull, but your ire seems less pointed at him now.

"I'm suggesting you simply look at our involvement as a form of revenge." He means it, though he knows you are in no position to tell just yet. That's quite alright, he knows himself. He can wait.

Azul

"Please wait!" Azul is surprised you don't break into a sprint, but then you don't slow down or stop either, stubbornly insistent on moving towards Ramshackle Dorm. You allow him to walk next to you, ignoring the huffs of stress in his breath.

"What do you want Azul?" No no no this is all wrong, you compliment his efforts after seeing him at his worst and now you're icing him out? Sure, he knew entertaining the idea you could be friends, genuine ones, was too good to be true but seeing it go up in foam in front of him was still painful.

"What did you mean feeling safe was a mistake?" He knows Jamil, in theory anyway, they're in a complicated place right now. Or maybe always but that's besides the point. There was a reason behind all of this he is sure you will likely find sympathetic enough to forgive, but if you are in this much pain why should you? Not that he has a say in it, but why should he let you?

"What do you want Azul?" You just repeat yourself, nails digging into the palms of your hand in a way that looks so painful he can't stop himself from reaching to pull them towards him. It keeps you from running the next couple feet to the mirror, both of you forced to look at the bleeding dents in your palms in a mixture of shame and remorse. He's too distressed to express himself, moving to firmly hold both of your hands with one of his while the other searches for his magic pen. 'What do yo-"

"A chance." Magic soothes the pain as Azul works to close the admittedly tiny wounds with the same determined focus he shows his studies. "All I have ever wanted is a chance." He doesn't say at what, you get a feeling he doesn't really know what he is asking for right now himself. But with how he refuses to mention payment as he puts away his magic pen, just continues to hold you in place, you think you could maybe eventually understand.

"I'll give you one." You swallow hoarsely, taking away your hands from his as he tries to pretending he didn't memorize their warmth.

"It's a deal then," he means that as a joke you think, but there's a bit of his normal showmanship and pride you find oddly comforting now "I promise you, one is all I'll need."

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #jade leech x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #also as a side note #i think floyd is the most emotionally intelligent of the trio #which was more or less the thought that spawned whatever this is

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 1)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (1)

Masterlist (other parts here)

(Slow start, but it'll pick up, I promise! I love little details, how am I doing for my first ever fanfic? :))

(*Slow burn hopeless romance with Lucy Bronze x reader. :) Smut in chapter 8.*)

Eyes closed, she took a deep breath in and out. The sea breeze whipped a few strands of hair out of her messy bun. She opened her eyes to look at the last rays of daylight as the wind shifted suddenly. A storm was coming – she could feel it. She smiled and looked up at the darkening clouds. She loved the feeling of the darkness creeping in, and the storm. She was unsure whether it was the potential violence of it, or the uncertainty, but she still loved it nonetheless. She felt comfortable in that space. She looked around the beach and saw nobody. It was so different to Australia, where people would be sitting on the beach regardless of the weather. Her eyes searched the beach for any sign of life, and out of curiosity, she checked the little alcove at the top of the sand - barely big enough for a couple. Sure enough, as had been the past several sunsets, she saw her again. She was a petite thing with a kind face, yet it held a frown and sad eyes. She had her arms wrapped around her shins, her chin resting on her knees. Her clothes, although the right sizes, looked like they were drowning her, and her expensive white trainers were ruined by the sand. She held a thousand-mile stare over the water and YFN wondered what she was thinking about. She looked like the kindest person, with the face that had the potential to light up at the smallest of things. She had been here every sunset for the past four days – which is how long YFN had been in the city. Who knows the actual number of times the woman had actually been coming here.

YFN puzzled over her. She wanted to make sure she was okay, but didn’t want to overstep with a complete stranger. YFN knew that look though, and would never be able to forget if she didn’t at least try.

She stood and walked slowly over to the woman, careful to not startle her. As she stopped in front of her, the woman lifted her head from her knees, a small look of surprise and worry crossing her face. Though, the surprise was one of a people-pleasing nature, a look that said she didn’t want to interrupt someone to go out of their day just to speak to her.

YFN sat diagonally to her so as not to block her view or force a close proximity to sit beside her. “Hey, I hope you don't mind me coming over to say hello. I just noticed you seem to be the only person here to appreciate sunsets as much as I do.”

The woman gave a little smile and her eyes softened. “I never really watched sunsets much in my life to be fair. This is a completely new thing to me.” Her accent was unmistakably English though YFN had no idea from where as she was so new to the country.

“Why the change, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I think it calms me. It helps relax my mind.”

YFN nodded. “I get that. I’ve always been a sunset and beach baby though. It’s just so… peaceful? I’m not sure if that’s the right word.”

“Do you like sunrises as well then?”

“Interestingly enough, no. I really don’t. I can admire how pretty they are, sure. But they give me anxiety more than take it away.”

She rested her chin back on her knees. “Ah. You’re not from around here, are you?”

“Is the accent that bad?”

“You sound quite English to be fair, but you speak a bit different. Where are you from?”

“Australia. Landed about four days ago, actually.”

“Australia?! I love Australia. No wonder you’re at the beach. You don’t sound very Australian though.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She laughed. “I’m YFN.”

“I’m Jordan.”

“Nice to meet you, Jordan.” She smiled and received a genuinely happy smile in return. “To be honest, you’re the first person I’ve had a proper conversation with here, and I hope you don’t take this in a negative way at all, but I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Jordan’s head lifted again in surprise, again that people pleasing worry that someone was going out of their way to worry about her was present. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. YFN continued to fill the void. “I’ve seen you here the past four days and I don’t mean to overstep, I just noticed you looked a little…upset…perhaps, and wanted to come over and offer myself as an ear or a friend, whatever you may need.”

Jordan’s lips twitched and she pressed them together as if she were trying to stop her tears from starting. Her chin quivered and she tilted her head back slightly in an attempt to stop the tears before they began.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Jordan.” She said her name to create a common ground between them. “Honestly, I pride myself on being the most understanding person you’ll ever meet so please, I’m right here if you need to talk, or need a hug. Anything you need. I’m right here.”

Jordan gave a little laugh and used the cuffs of her baggy shirt to wipe her tears away.

“I’m sorry I’m just blubbering away like a child.”

YFN pulled herself up the sand so she was sitting right next to her. “Don’t be sorry at all. I’m right here. To be honest, who else is better to talk to than a stranger you might not see again, hey?”

Jordan smiled and gave another little laugh, though the tears were increasing. YFN took a risk and put her arm around Jordan’s little body. She clutched her far shoulder and rubbed it to soothe her. Jordan leaned into her, her whole body a quivering mess slowly becoming undone.

“I…I…I’ve lo…lost everything.” Her hands went up to cover her face and YFN turned slightly, wrapped her other arm around her also, pulling her close. Her body was so little and fragile. She cried louder, letting herself be held by YFN.

“You’ll be okay, Jordan. Let it all out. I’m right here. Just take your time and let it all out.” Jordan relaxed a little and continued to cry, sniffling into her hands. YFN took a few tissues out of her pocket and slipped them into her hands.

“Th…th…tha…” She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. After she calmed a bit, she leaned back, her eyes red and puffy, with an attempt at an apologetic smile. YFN gave back the most heartfelt, empathetic smile she could. She kept one arm around her.

“Oh – I definitely needed that.”

“I think you did. I think you need a bit more to be honest, but that’s a good start.”

Jordan blew her nose again and a shiver rippled through her spine. YFN rubbed her shoulder to give her some warmth.

“Would you like to talk about it, or we could sit in silence if you’d like?”

Jordan looked at her. She felt relaxed and like she could be herself around the woman. She felt like a genuine, nice human. Jordan also assumed from everything that she had no idea who she was and what she did for a living. That helped encourage her to open up. “I just feel so sad all the time lately. I don’t get it – it’s not me.” YFN stayed quiet and let her talk. It was healthy to talk. “I lost my partner, I lost my c…club of over ten years…it was my h…home. I lost my spot on the England squad. I can’t even represent my c…country. I’m just.. really not doing well at the moment, and I don’t know what to do or who to talk to.”

“You’re an athlete?”

Jordan nodded. “Football.”

“Ah, I heard that’s pretty popular here.”

Jordan laughed. “Yeah, we’re a bit obsessed over here to be fair.”

“Do you have a new club?”

“Yeah…yeah I do.”

“Was it your choice to leave?”

“Yeah it was. I wasn’t getting enough play time. I’m a footballer – I need to play. And my ex is at the club, and it was getting hard to see her every day. Leaving was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make.”

“Did someone help you make that decision?”

“Yeah actually, I had a friend who I was speaking to about it all. She was really encouraging about it all, to be fair. She said leaving was the right choice.”

“Well I don’t know this friend but I’m one hundred percent certain she was right. You made the right choice for your career, and for your emotional health. It may feel like you’ve lost everything, but you need to look at it instead as a new beginning. Because that’s exactly what it is. New beginning with new friends in a new location. More play time. Time to yourself and away from your ex. This is such a positive step!”

Jordan smiled and her body relaxed as she looked up at YFN. “Really?”

“Really. I promise. It’s only hurting because it’s all so new. Change is scary but it’s a good thing for you. It’s exciting to be honest! So much more opportunity.”

Jordan nodded. “You’re right.” Her lip quivered again. “It’s just so hard at the moment and I feel so alone in all of this.” She shivered as a gust of cold wind swept over them.

YFN rubbed her shoulder again. “Who’s your friend who helped you make a decision? Can you call her to spend the night and help give you some advice and support?”

“L…Lucy. She should be in London for camp at the moment actually.”

“Perfect. Maybe we should call her and you can spend the night. Do you think she’d like that?”

“Y…eah. I just wouldn’t want to ruin her camp.”

“She’s your friend. I’m sure she will prioritise you above all else, hm? Friends come first.” Jordan looked unsure – her people pleasing face on again. “It’s okay to ask for support.” YFN whispered to soften the blow. She rubbed her shoulder. “Can I call her for you?”

Jordan nodded and took out her phone. She brought up the contact and gave the phone to YFN.

“I’ll be just a minute, okay?” YFN took the phone and moved away from Jordan. She shivered again, her little body not dealing well with the wind. YFN knelt down in front of her and took off her jacket, ignoring Jordan’s protests as she put it on her. Jordan gave her a thankful smile. YFN smiled back and stood, walking just far enough away that she wouldn’t be able to hear. She dialled the number.

“Hey Jords, what’s happening?” Again, another English accent, though this one was stronger and still just a mystery to YFN.

“Hi…Lucy? This isn’t Jordan, it’s YFN. You don’t know me, I only met Jordan ten minutes ago.”

“Is she okay?” The voice was immediately worried and concerned.

“She’s okay. We’re just at the beach. I noticed she’d been coming down here for a few days, and looking a little upset and lost. I just came over to make sure she’s okay and she’s not. I think she’s had a rough time lately with her ex and her club and the England squad she mentioned? Anyways, I think it’s best if she had a friend to talk to and spend the night with.”

“Absolutely. Which beach are you at? I’ll come right now.”

“I’m not sure actually, and I think that’ll be a bit too much for her. She needs support but I’ve noticed she doesn't like the idea of putting anyone out. I think you turning up here might be a bit too like an intervention. She mentioned she didn’t want to ruin your camp also.”

“Argh Jords.” She sounded frustrated and worried. “Okay well do you think you can get her to my place at all? I’m sorry to ask more of you.”

“No, it’s okay, I promise. I don’t mind at all. She seems like an amazing person, and so do you, to be honest. I just want her to be okay and know that she has support. It’s really important.”

“Yes, it is. Okay come to mine, Jords knows the address, and I’ll see you soon, okay? Let me know if you need me to come get you from anywhere.”

“Thanks Lucy, we’ll see you soon.”

YFN hung up and walked back over to Jordan who was zoned out again, staring at the sand. She knelt down and gave her phone back with a smile. “Lucy seems lovely. She’s excited to see you.”

“She’s a good friend.” Jordan smiled in return.

“She wants you to stay the night. Do you know how to get there from here?”

She nodded and paused, looked up at YFN. “Can you come with me?” She asked hesitantly, as she struggled to ask for help.

“Of course I can!” She took Jordan’s hands and helped pull her up. She went to take the jacket off and YFN caught her. “Nuh uh uh. Keep it for now, please. You look freezing.”

They walked up the beach to the stairs and ascended them, the wind getting even more aggressive. Jordan stopped at the top and took her shoes off one at a time to empty the sand out. The wind almost knocked her little body over as she was balancing and YFN caught her before she fell, holding her steady while she put her shoe back on.

“Jeez, you’re like my guardian angel.” Jordan laughed.

“Chivalry isn’t dead when I’m around, mate!” YFN put on a strong Australian accent.

They walked in comfortable silence for a bit, YFN not wanting to push her to talk or to get emotional again. The silence was the good kind though, the comfortable kind. They would brush against each other by accident, setting a pace perfect for them both. YFN looked up at the dark storm clouds above them and smelled petrichor. She loved the smell of coming rain.

“I never asked anything about you. What are you doing here?”

“Are you about to tell me to go back to my own country?”

Jordan laughed. “No, of course not!”

“I’ve always wanted to visit and was sick of waiting for people who always had excuses, so I decided to do it alone. Best decision. Have you travelled much?”

“I mean, I’ve travelled a lot with football, but mainly in Europe. We had the World Cup last year over in Australia though. That was the best time of my life. The beaches and the weather were incredible.”

“Do you have anywhere else you want to go?”

“So many places, but I always expected to go with Leah, you know?”

“Your ex?”

Jordan flinched, realising she had just mentioned Leah Williamson, Captain of the England Squad and world-wide known celebrity. She looked for a reaction at the name from YFN and didn’t get one. It comforted her that YFN genuinely had no clue about any of them. “Yeah… yeah. We sort of…fell apart. I don’t know how I can love someone else. She was perfect. I was so lucky.”

“What happened?” YFN asked softly. Jordan hesitated. YFN opened her mouth to give her an out.

“She grew. I didn’t. I stayed the same. Same old me. Never getting games, just happy to be there. Watching my friends all get game time and do amazing things while I was only there because I was dating the Captain. She learnt so much and I just… wasn’t enough anymore.” She was crying again, harder. So hard that she couldn’t see where she was going. YFN offered her arm and she took it, letting her lead the way. It started raining then, and it didn’t begin slowly, it came down hard, hard, harder. Big droplets. They were both soaked in an instant. They continued to walk, almost unable to hear each other in the rain. YFN saw a little alcove and pushed Jordan back into it so she would be dry for a bit. YFN, however, was still in the rain. The alcove was only big enough for one.

“Is it far?!” She almost shouted above the rain.

Jordan shook her head, and YFN could see that the rain had sombered her mood even further. “I lost everything. I lost her. I lost my family. My club. Everything.” She let herself feel her emotion loudly, being comforted by the deafening sound of the rain. YFN’s heart broke and she wrapped Jordan up into an all-encompassing hug. She knew the feeling all too well. Jordan sobbed loudly, as she clung to YFN as if she were a life support. YFN rested her chin on her head and rubbed her back. “It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. I promise. I’ve got you.”

Jordan clung tighter, her whole body quivering with grief. YFN felt Jordan’s phone vibrate and let her continue to grieve, grabbing the phone out. Several missed calls from Lucy, as well as messages. Just as she was about to message back, she called again. YFN held Jordan tight against her with one arm in the little alcove, her other answering the phone.

“Hello?”

“YFN? Is she okay?”

She tightened her grip around the woman. “We’ve just had to make a stop with the rain.”

“There’s a storm. That’s why I’ve been calling. I’m in my car driving around to find you two. Where are you?” Lucy’s voice was worried and commanding.

YFN looked at the store window they were leant up against. “Daly’s Deli? Do you know where that is?”

“I’m just turning the corner now. I’ll be there in a minute.”

The phone hung up and YFN pocketed it. She placed her arm back around Jordan.

“Everything…everything…Leah…Arsenal…my England squad…my friends…”

“Jordan… you need to stop following this grief. Allow yourself to grieve, yes, but we need to think of the positives also, okay? New club, new people, new opportunities, more play time. It’s scary to start new but it’s incredible. You’re going to have so many new opportunities!”

A car quickly pulled up by the curb behind them and a woman stepped out, car still running, and came over. She didn’t seem to care about the rain, her focus on the two women holding each other in the alcove. Lucy’s dark brown hair was up in a messy bun, her clear framed glasses getting soaked in the rain. She wiped them as she hurried over. Her eyes met YFN’s and she paused, blinking. The two shared something, and then their attention shifted to Jordan.

“Jords, I’m here.” Lucy placed a hand on YFN’s back, and Jordan’s head, as if to protect them both in their little alcove.

“L…Lucy?”

“I’m here, Jords. Let’s get you warm and dry. Come on.”

Jordan refused to let go of YFN as they all made their way to the car. Lucy opened the door as the two slid into the back. Lucy got into the driver’s seat and drove the rest of the way to her house. She pulled into the garage where it was dry and they managed to get Jordan out and into the house.

“Alright Jords, straight into the shower please. Warm yourself up. I’ve put some clothes in there for you. I’ll be right out here, okay?”

Jordan nodded grabbed YFN’s arm. “You’re not leaving, are you?” It was a question that sounded like a plea.

YFN looked at Lucy. “If that’s okay.”

“Absolutely. She’s staying Jords. Now go warm up please.”

Lucy and YFN took a seat at the kitchen bench, both drying themselves off with towels.

“Coffee? Tea?”

“No thank you, I don’t drink either.”

Lucy raised her eyebrows like she was impressed. “She’s going to want you to stay the night, you know.”

“How do you know?”

She rolled her eyes. “Jords has been one of my closest mates for over a decade. I know.”

YFN couldn’t take her eyes off the woman. “I don’t know if that would be appropriate. We did only meet an hour ago..”

If YFN didn’t know better, she’d say that Lucy looked disappointed. “Well, you’re more than welcome. I have a spare room and spare clothes. If you do end up going, at least let me drive you there so you avoid the rain.”

“I love the rain.” YFN almost whispered.

“Me too.” Lucy stated, sharing a look. “But we can’t have you getting sick or walking home alone. Where is home, by the way?”

“Ah, I’m just staying at a hotel in town.”

Her dark eyebrows raised again. “You’re not from here?”

“Australian. Visiting. Arrived four days ago.”

Lucy looked even more intrigued. “I love Australia. That explains the accent. How long are you here for?”

“I didn’t really set a timeline, I was hoping to be in England for at least two weeks, then onto some European countries.”

“Are you travelling with a partner..?”

YFN smiled at the question. “No partner, just me.”

#lucy bronze #jordan nobbs #engwnt #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso community #woso soccer #lionesses #womens football #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze imagine

[turtleblogatlast]

Thinking about the Don Suave scene and what it means in terms of LGBTQ+ representation because my brain does nothing if not torment me with random topics to ramble about on the regular.

Anyway, I just wanted to ramble about why I like the scene but to get it out of the way - the scene can very easily be interpreted in so many different ways, and all of them are valid. I personally see it as Leo having at least some attraction to a man. And the following is an explanation of my own interpretation and thoughts on it and what it means especially for Leo’s portrayal in the grand scheme of things.

Long-winded interpretation under the cut!

Now, to start with, it’s important to me that in the scene Leo looks at Don Suave in the very beginning and then for the entirety of the rest of the time the man is on screen, Leo’s eyes are closed. Yet, in the end, he is still visibly enamored with Don Suave, happily cuddling up to him as he’s being carried away.

You can very easily interpret this as Leo being spellbound and that’s honestly super valid and I believe he likely was at least somewhat in the beginning, but considering how fast he looked away and how he never looked again, I personally think it makes more sense to read it as Leo just finding the man attractive, at least somewhat. (For the record, I personally headcanon Rise Leo as bisexual with a heavy preference for men, but I want to be blunt when I say that any interpretation is valid. Literally any. Ace, pan, gay, bi, none of the above or a mixture of something new literally all of it is more than okay and fair. Hell you could even interpret this entire scene as more romantic attraction than physical and it would still work. Anything goes!! Don’t bother people, guys, really.)

The main reason I take this scene to be at the very least LGBTQ+ adjacent isn’t just because of how it’s portrayed, but because of who Leonardo is. Not in terms of Rise of the TMNT, but in terms of the entire Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles™️ franchise.

Leo’s a character who, while changing with each iteration, has still at his core been around for decades upon decades as “the blue one”. One fourth of the team. He’s the one most are going to look at as the Leader, and oftentimes he is the one closest to having the title of Main Character. Not to say the others aren’t just as important, but Leo’s presence in the A plots of basically all TMNT media is often something very main character-esque.

And that’s very, very important to note. Here we have a Main Character of a prolific and decades long-running franchise distributed by a children’s television network. You can play around with his and his brothers’ characters all you like, but there is always going to be challenges to dodge around, especially since this was still in 2018-2019.

For example, you can play around with their designs so long as they’re color coded turtles, but their sexualities? Now that’s tricky.

“But what about Hypno and Warren?” Not main characters and also they’re Rise originals. They have a lot more room to play around with than a character like Leo does. But even talking about main characters in the franchise, you could arguably have an easier time playing around with Donnie or Mikey’s sexualities than Leo or even Raph, as (unfortunately) the former two tend to get more B plots, so they’d likely have had a little more leeway (still not a lot though.)

So, where does this leave us?

It leaves us in a place where outright stating and/or showing undeniable proof of Leo’s attraction to men is very, very difficult. So, workarounds!

Workarounds like the entire Don Suave situation.

To be honest, as left up to interpretation and lowkey and deniable as it is, this whole scene means a lot to me because of who Leo is as a character. It’s just nice when we get so see even the bare bones of representation with characters that have been such a large part of pop culture for decades, y’know? Even if more would be so much nicer, this is better than I thought we’d ever get for these boys.

And, again, literally nothing I’ve said is the only way to interpret it, I’m more than happy when people interpret media on their own honestly, it’s just something I’ve been thinking of lately and I was wondering if others felt the same way.

Whatever you think when you interpret this scene or Rise Leo as a whole, I just thought this would be interesting to think about, even if it was ramble-y, haha.

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt headcanons #rottmnt leo #rise leo #rise don suave #rottmnt don suave #I lied I’m back to ramble because I’m just #so bad at keeping my mouth shut #or uh #not typing word vomit #anyway- yeah this is my personal interpretation #I believe Leo was legitimately mesmerized by Don Suave’s powers…in the beginning #but even the series’ creator says it was ‘at least PART of what was going on with Leo’ so #idk it’s something that’s been on my mind and I was wondering if anyone else felt the same?? #may delete this later who knowssss #pleaaaase feel free to disagree I just like to talk lol #but yeah sometimes I look around at how much media has LGBTQ+ rep in it now and it honestly makes me emotional?? #(we always always ALWAYS could use more but) #we did not have even a crumb of this as kids #but also like most of that rep is new properties #and I just was thinking about what that could mean #idk man idk #once again please don’t take this as facts it is VERY MUCH NOT #man I was looking around for good images to use and found jack all #anyway tho did you know Donnie often has bi colors around him and Leo is often dressed in the colors of the trans flag- #okay anyway back to the caves I go this comic won’t draw itself #I gotta spray myself with water any time I go to type long winded essays because they’re not great for the mental health fr

[shadow-is-now-sinning]

Content: General Horny headcanons. Ganondorf calculations. General Ganondorf .

Kinks and activities mentioned: Size kink, fingering(Ambiguous)

Ganondorf only for now(I was tempted to put stuff for Ganon, phantom Ganondorf and Demise).

Reader: This post his general, gender neutral, without mentions of genitalia. Butt stuff fair game. Reader is refered to as smaller than Ganondorf because no matter the iteration he's at least 7'6" feet<228.6 cm> (Oot source Hyrule Historia) and they keep making him bigger. (Gamespot pixel counted and said Totk Ganondorf is about 10 feet <305cm>) you/your

Pussy having reader version

Dick having reader version

More of this

General Headcanons

Ganondorf's goods

As we all know he's big. Big in every aspect. I don't like to designate specific sizes or details for self projection sake but for the people that asked I'll attempt to describe it for y'all. Despite what people think height doesn't equal bigger dick but ignore this because he a big boy anyway. After some tasteful research. Which means I looked at studies of hand to penile length calculations, looked up some fan estimates he's at least 22.9cm <9 inches> though I'd personally say bigger. Girth could also be wild but I will limit it to 17.78 cm <7 inches> in max because the human anus can stretch to 17.78 cm <7-7.5 inches> if you're into that feel free to go bigger. It's hefty. Hangs down when erect. I'd go with uncut.

Balls are also heavy. They really fill your palm. I see people use breeder balls very often but I think it's an apt description of these boys.

Ganondorf carries more that one great sword 👍 (watch me edit this out at a later date)

Cum wise I imagine him with a thicker consistency. Opaque. Slightly salty. He has no preference where he cums so if you do be sure to tell him.

Ganondorf is a king who takes self maintenance serious. Literally never looks bad or ungroomed. Though I believe there wouldn't be time to shave. He is clean and would most likely trim beforehand if he thinks he'll initiate intercourse.

Muscle lovers are feasting good. Nice ass and thighs with every iteration. Torso changes but I think all of them are pretty good.

Ganondorf is not that vocal during the act. Usually only responding when talked to or the need arises. Confirmation of continued consent or if something is working etcetera.

Ganondorf's kinks

I will say his kinks probably change depending one which iteration you're looking at though some are shared. I'd peg Ganondorf as uncaring of his partner's sex.

-Size kink(all) is an obvious one. He's so much bigger sometimes he doesn't even need to undress to overwhelm his lover as they struggle to take his fingers. Though he also enjoys the reverse of his smaller partner taking control. Just don't instigate a coup on your self.

-Going along with size kink Ganondorf likes to Manhandle. Holding his partner in the air, holding them down and moving them mid bang and some iterations are into being a little rough physically.

-Praise kink both receiving and giving. (All) Oot Ganondorf sometimes leans into the mocking variety. Warriors very sparingly praises but always means it.

-Degradation kink giving only.(OoT, TP, ToTK) Twilight Princess is that classy degradation. Wind Waker would attempt but wouldn't be able to do it long as he feels it's dehumanizing. All you'd really get is the rare times when he's outraged.

OoT makes me think he'd be into Dacryphilia.(ToTK as well but lesser)

Roleplay involving power imbalance. OoT only if he's the higher power, HW he'll humor being the lower power, TP occasionally either or.

ToTK generally refuses to give up power unless you offer in a specific way. Such as it being akin to worship or that he's so powerful he doesn't even bother to give an effort. Stroke both is dick and his ego. Predator/Prey is the only exception you can't convince him to act prey like.

Exhibitionism. Even if an iteration doesn't care for others seeing their partner naked. He is a possessive and jealous man. He revels in showing off what's his and other's knowing they're off limits. If he has access to a throne...

Body worship. Both receiving and giving. He enjoys letting his partner know how much he desires them and vice versa.

Note: I'm not really into Degradation, Daceyphilia, so I can really get into depth as I would like. If you have ideas feel free to send it in. For educational purposes of course.

Reader Insert Headcanons

Regardless of how much you weigh or how big you are. He'd be able to pick you up. He likes letting you know this. So malleable small in his grasp. Sometimes his hand makes it's way around your neck. Not tightly but the warmth makes it clear it's there and how much only one hand wraps around you.

He's patient taking his time, relishing it it even, working you open. OoT and ToTk will more inclined to edge you until he can fully slip in. If you voice annoyance he'll do the opposite overstimulating you until he's satisfied.

Very encouraging of you to make noise. Perhaps say how well he's doing. WW is basically the only iteration who's not overly teasing.

Sessions where Ganondorf's focuses solely on you are mostly non penetrative.(unless you request) Outercourse, and intercrural being the focus.

Adding on to that he finds hit very endearing and cute if during a thigh job his tip peeks out the other side. Those he'd praise you if your thighs cover all of him.

Feel free to ride his thighs to completion. He'll let you go unless you ask for his touch. He doesn't hesitate to join fondling and presses kisses where he can reach without disrupting your ministrations. He waits until either you cum or plea for him to help release your buildup.

Couple things for Anorgasmia

Whether it's just difficult or complete lack Ganondorf doesn't mind if you can't come. If it's difficult but possible and you want to climax, he'll have you guide him. Telling him how and we're to touch to force out that climax.

Otherwise he relies on you informing him of he's doing something that's uncomfortable or painful.

#ganondorf dragmire #legend of zelda #ganondorf x reader #gender neutral reader

[petitecreme]

The Fields. For this years Screamtober.

Thank you for reading!

We moved in shortly after he claimed the land. The house was quickly put together and I was perplexed why we were so far away from the town "It'll be good for us," Carlos said, "We'll raise horses, cattle and sons. We need all the land." Personally, it unnerved me, it was too vast, too quiet. I wasn't used to seeing so much sky. We truly were alone. He left me for long periods of time with our son, George, grew bored quickly. He already explored everything there was once he could walk. My education wasn't the best and I tried hard to teach him to read and write. I knew he would be grow up to be a great man, greater than his father and I wanted the best for him. But he got sick... in the middle of summer, a freezing chill. He kept coughing, day in and day out. Carlos brought the town's doctor and they could only say he just had a cold, it would pass. But the coughing didn't. George wouldn't stop coughing. until he did, stop.

--

I was alone. I had to bound my son and find a piece of earth that was soft enough to bury him. We didn't have any wood for a coffin. No way to contact the parish, What could I do? Carlos was still in town and I had no way of contacting him. I lost track of time crying and digging the earth, I didn't even hear the horse approach. I don't think I even saw it. You can see for miles here. It should've been easy to see, but there they stood in front of me, like a stain against the sky.

--

I've heard of snake-oil sellers. I suspected they thought I was easy pickings. But the way they talked... they sounded like they cared. I had no one at that moment, what was I to do? I was hurting so badly. I didn't know how to stop the pain, if they were to offer me respite, I wouldn't say no. Didn't the good book say that help came in strange ways?

--

The teeth was from an accident. George slipped and hit the table, thankfully there was no damage but I kept his teeth, I thought it would be a nice memento of his childhood to show his milk teeth, to have his height etched on the door frame, his first shoes... I don't remember much, they took the teeth and apologised, I don't know what for, I heard locust. It got loud. I can't remember.

--

Carlos didn't care.... He didn't care at all. and it felt *wrong*.

--

Carlos left for town again. I had to do the harvest on my own. Prepare the house for winter on my own. Set up the traps, on my own. They came again today. They gave me a gift. They told me it'll take the guilt and sadness away in my sleep. Am I allowed to be like this? To stop feeling this horrible ache for my child? For this life I live?

--

I had never heard someone talk like this. I was brought up to tend to my husband but...they were right. Carlos had never said a sweet thing to me. Had never helped with George, demanded I please him with never a word or look of my comfort. The locust returned as the wind grew strong, they were whispering "you can do what you want,”

--

The wind picks up, the fields rustle loudly and the locust sing.  "He doesn’t care about you,” “You can do better than him,” There is nothing for you here,” You can do...A N Y T H I N G,”

--

"You did great,” “We’re so proud of you,” “Look, they came back for you!”

--

"She always had the strength to do what she did. I merely gave her a small gift to see it. She's doing well the crows told me. She runs a small laundry business, cleaning shirts and sheets for hotels in town. Hard work, but she seems content. "I send jackrabbits to her occasionally, and if she decides to go fishing I will ride up there and see her; talk to her about her day; about her heart. It's clear now, she says, she's grateful to me and wants to repay my kindness. "We do not do for rewards in return, we do it because we see the pain and want it soothed. These lands are fair, but not kind. You need to live with others and itself. "White man say the land is theirs, but mother nature says otherwise."

#screamtober #inktober #horror comic #petitecreme #long comic #the moving house #sal's art #original comics #original comic #horror #witch #witch comic #wlw #sapphic

[dreadsuitsamus]

Endless | Sasuke Uchiha & Reader |

author's note: i couldn't really tell you why i wrote this. it's not a reader insert quite like you'd expect, as the itachi x reader portion is in the background. this story focuses on sasuke himself a lot

pairing: sasuke & fem!reader (not romantic) itachi x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of death, angst, some comfort

It's dark and cold as you sit perched in a tree, eyes closed as you wait for a particular chakra signature. You'd retired from shinobi life sometime ago, but after mastering your craft it was like getting back on a bike and riding into the sunset. You wear the headband of your deceased lover as you wait, the line crossed through the leaf symbol almost perfectly.

It gets colder soon and not from the wind, but from the person you're looking for. Your eyes fly open and you descend from the tree and into his path, staring at him impassively. He's got a snarl on his lips and you know he's far gone enough to try to kill you on sight, but Uchiha Sasuke will have to work hard to slay Uchiha Itachi's widow.

"Move." He warns once in that low voice. You can't help but admire how much he looks like Itachi. But where Itachi had a calm presence and was easily a wolf in an Akatsuki cloak, Sasuke didn't care to try and hide just how powerful and dangerous he was.

"Let's talk, Sasuke." You say calmly. "Believe me, I'm not here to fight."

Those dark eyes narrow. What a fool he is to think he wouldn't need his Sharingan to take you down, you think. Even Itachi had to use everything his eyes had to best you during your first encounter, and even then you pinned him with a kunai at his throat and his chakra drained from his body. The memory makes you smile to yourself before gazing back at your young brother-in-law.

"I don't have time to talk." He says, eyeing your headband. You seem like you want to stop him, but you're wearing that rogue ninja headband… And it looks awfully familiar.

"If I have to wear you out before we talk, then so be it. I bested Itachi once; and I can beat you too."

Sasuke falters at that. So it is his brother's headband. He grinds his teeth together, "And I killed Itachi."

In the back of your mind, there's a terrible laugh. To provoke that bear in front of you or not was the question. You know he's young, you believe him to be around seventeen, but at the same time would it be fair to allow him to think he killed your love? Could he truly live with that blood on his hands?

"Hmm." You cock your head to the side. "You're confident."

"Enough." Sasuke's sword is in hand and his eyes burn red. You sigh and shake your head. "You Uchiha men are so difficult."

There's a pause in Sasuke's movements. Why did you say that so fondly?

"Who are you?" He asks blankly.

"I'm the one that kept Itachi alive long enough to face you. I'm also your sister-in-law, if that matters to you."

That gets him. His eyes are wide and his grip loosens on his sword. You fight back your urge to laugh at the poor boy; you know he never would've expected that answer from you.

"How…"

"I met him when he was first getting sick. He placed me under his genjutsu, but found out the hard way it doesn't work on me."

Sasuke still stands dumbfounded before you, and this time you can't help the small chuckle you give. "Sasuke, it's… Nice to finally meet you. Itachi spoke so highly of you and I'd always wanted to get the chance to see you."

Sasuke snaps back to himself. "Even if you are who you say you are, I don't have time for this."

You sigh internally. You knew he'd say that. "I think you should make time. I want to tell you about him as he was when I knew him."

"You expect me to believe you knew him?"

"I'm wearing his headband, his ring…" You take a deep breath. "If you'll just listen to me, I'll prove it to you."

"Five minutes." Sasuke mutters, his eyes on the ground. You hop back into the tree you were in, and Sasuke follows your lead and sits beside you. His chakra is so cold and your heart breaks at the thought of all he went through to get to this point. Part of you is angry at Itachi for his part in Sasuke's trauma; but you could never be more upset with Itachi than he was at himself.

"I met him around five years ago. We were both eighteen and we had a helluva battle." You laugh softly. "If he wasn't so handsome I may have tried to kill him."

Sasuke scoffs. "You, killing my brother?"

You snort. "You don't know my jutsu or my clan, kiddo. Don't try and find out either, unless you don't wanna move for a few hours."

"You did that to my brother and he married you?" Sasuke's voice is flat and his eyes are faraway and glassy.

You chuckle softly. "Not immediately, of course. But he did admire my fearlessness against him. And I knew his reputation. And not to brag but…" You smile some and click your tongue on the roof of your mouth. "I am pretty cute."

Sasuke doesn't laugh, but his shoulders ease up a tad. "You said he was sick."

"He was. My clan is known for being healers as much as fighters, and I could sense illness in his chakra after we fought. I gave everything I could to cure him, but I think ultimately the burdens on his shoulders stressed him out too much, along with his use of the Mangekyo Sharingan. He was losing his sight little by little as well, as I'm sure you saw when you fought him."

Sasuke's chest clutches with an emotion he can't name. You know things about Itachi you wouldn't, had you been just a stranger with an odd play. He was not a trusting nor kind young man in the slightest, but he believes you're real and it shocks him more than his thought-to-be emotionless (minus his anger) brain could bear.

You are the closest thing he has to his brother.

"I never got to know him well." He mutters, gazing to the stars. "He was distant."

You chuckle. "I always did compare him to an aloof housecat. He had a dry sense of humor; he also had a sarcastic streak in him. He wasn't passive, really, he just didn't entertain nonsense and tended to avoid it if he could. I think by that point of his life, he was already feeling like he'd failed everyone he sacrificed everything he had for. So he didn't have it in him to bear anymore weight."

Sasuke's eyes water as you continue telling him about his brother. He'd looked up to his older sibling as a child, and he wanted to be just like him. And then he spent half of his life training to get stronger and kill him, but even then it was Itachi that motivated him. He'd let that man inspire whatever route of his life he was taking, and yet he hardly knew him at all. He was that captivating, for better or worse.

"Oh, and his sweet tooth was terrible." You laugh, looking at the stars with the young man beside you, breaking the tension. "He kept a bag of butterscotch candies in his Akatsuki cloak, y'know."

Sasuke blinks and he even laughs just a tad, and that surprises you. "I kept strawberry ones in mine." He admits lowly, as if he didn't want to admit how human he was. You laugh so much at the thought of these dangerous brothers and their sweet tooths, and Sasuke gazes at you and realizes just how perfect you were for his brother. He can see how you'd slotted yourself into his life and he let you stay.

"He told me about the time you'd gotten yourself stuck in a tree and were afraid to jump down. He said he couldn't understand why you didn't think he'd catch you." You look directly at him now, taking in his features. You bet he had the chubbiest cheeks when he was little.

"I was young." He mutters. "I was afraid he wouldn't catch me and I would get hurt." Oh how he longs for the days where he thought that was the worst hurt he could've felt.

"He'd never let you fall." You murmur. To that, Sasuke scoffs.

"He did let me fall! He shook the tree and knocked me out of it!"

You laugh loudly, having no idea about that part of the story. Sasuke's pouting and it warms you to see such a visceral reaction from him. Truly, they were brothers. "But did he catch you?"

His arms cross and lips twist into a scowl. "... Yes."

You chuckle to yourself, comfortable in the idea that Sasuke believes you by now. "I… I came here tonight with a purpose."

That sends Sasuke back into his cool, defensive mode. "You're trying to stop me from destroying the village."

"Well, yeah." You sigh. "Itachi did everything he did for this place. I'd hate to see that work go to waste."

"It was for naught from the start." He growls.

"He never intended for you to know the truth. Not many people know it, after all. But, he asked me to find you after his death. I sense he may have had reason to believe you would learn the truth, and you did. I couldn't tell you what he wanted me to say or do after that point, but I always interpreted his request as letting you know that you do have family still." You pull a photo from your breast pocket, holding it to him.

The breath is sucked out of him when he focuses on the picture. It's of you and Itachi, and if he didn't believe you already, he would've had no choice but to at this point. But it's the third person in the picture that causes him to bite his tongue down hard enough to stop him from breaking down.

There's a child.

"He has a son." Sasuke says.

"We do." You nod. "He's two now. He's the perfect mix between you and your brother, now that I see you. His cute little nose is identical to yours." You smile and your eyes sparkle as you look at the family photo.

"What's his name?"

"Makoto."

Truth, Sasuke thinks.

"I… Would love for his uncle to see him one day." You murmur and tuck the photo into the inner pocket of his shirt. "If you want that, I could take you now. Or whenever you feel comfortable."

"Not now." Sasuke whispers.

You nod and ready yourself to jump out of the tree. "That's perfectly okay. We live near an old Uchiha clan landmark, I'm sure you'll find it with ease."

Sasuke watches you jump, already envisioning the exact landmark you're referencing. It's the one by a large lake with three tiny, island-like formations in it. He hasn't seen that lake since he was a child. He remembers Itachi teaching him how to swim there.

"I hope to see you soon, Sasuke." You call out before disappearing into the night, returning home to your son.

Sasuke frowns. Who had you kept the baby with? He could've killed you, and then what?? He can't allow you to be a reckless mother, really, why must he have to take care of those older than him…

He doesn't take a second look in the direction of Konoha. He latches onto your chakra signature and is soon running by your side. You hide your smile to yourself, and take him to your quaint little home you once shared with Itachi, whenever he wasn't out on Akatsuki business.

"Who is watching him?" Sasuke frowns.

"I am." You snort, and Sasuke grimaces when your shadow clone disappears. As often as he had to encounter that damn shadow clone jutsu, he had no idea he'd been talking to a clone for so long.

But to keep up the chakra for so long, he muses to himself that perhaps it was for the best that he didn't try and engage you in battle.

Before long he's at your home, and you're sitting on the front steps with the sleeping toddler in your arms. There's a twinkle in your eye and you lead him inside. It's warm, he notes as he steps in and removes his sandals. He looks around. There's a few photos of your family on the walls, and there's a small one he notices on the side table by the couch.

It's of him and Itachi, when Sasuke was maybe a year old. He was slung over Itachi's shoulder and smiling with his eyes closed tightly, and Itachi was looking at Sasuke rather than the camera, a fond look in his eye.

You follow his gaze. "The Uchiha brothers." You hum to yourself, sitting on the couch and cuddling your son close. He's fast asleep but his fingers are still clutched tightly to your shirt, a trait Itachi had as well when he was asleep.

Sasuke doesn't sit down, too uncomfortable in these surroundings. His brother was here, when he was still alive. He'd made a family here, a family he'd left behind to… Fight Sasuke to the death. His fists clench and his jaw is tight.

"Why was he like this?" He whispers angrily, attempting to control his anger and not wake the baby. Itachi gave away everything he ever loved. Did he hold nothing sacred?

"Unfortunately, your brother felt he was a martyr to this world. He believed so much in peace and was a pacifist in this cruel world that wouldn't allow him to be himself." You look at your darling son, brushing some of that dark hair from his face. "Makoto getting the Sharingan would break his heart. What was an achievement for your clan was also his worst nightmare."

Sasuke closes his eyes. Itachi's eyes. They've seen a lot and caused others to see perhaps even more. He'll never forget what looking into those eyes did to him.

"If you want…" You say slowly. "He kept a journal up until his final day. I haven't read a single entry. It's… Too much for me." You wipe at the rim of your eye, and Sasuke sees just how much you loved his brother, can hear it in your voice, your urge to cry.

You sniffle and stand, going to the bedroom and retrieving it from Itachi's bedside table. It's leathery and small, likely kept right beside his bag of butterscotch in his cloak. You kiss your son's cheek and hand it off to his uncle, turning once he's accepted it. "You're welcome to stay the night. Please help yourself to anything in the cupboards or fridge, and the couch pulls out into a bed. The baby's and my rooms are right down the hall. Goodnight, Sasuke."

He doesn't respond, eyes locked into that journal. This was his best chance to get to know his older brother and he couldn't waste it. He settles at the dining room table and reads throughout the night, every last page and addendum and extra little notes he would add in the margins of a page, and Sasuke discovers quickly that Itachi was absolutely smitten with you.

Her smile eases the pain in my chest better than any of these medicines could ever aspire to.

Sasuke cries through the night while he reads the journal, his heart heavier and depression blanketing him rather than anger when he first learnt his brother's truth. Alone at that table, with his brother's innermost thoughts and confessions laid out before him and only ever him, he is again that little boy with a brother he never got to see. His stomach is a pit and he wants to throw up as he sobs, his chest and shirt soaked from his tears.

There's a hole in his chest that can't be filled. He'd give his soul to start all over again, just to see him again, even if it had to end the same way it did.

Dawn starts breaking when he hears the little one's voice for the first time. He's whimpering in his room, no doubt needing a change or a feeding or even just his momma. He doesn't know why, but he stands and follows the noise, tear-stained face and shirt and all.

Sasuke cracks open the door, peeking inside at the baby. The toddler is standing in his crib, whining forlornly. Sasuke is struck by an emotion he can't name (pride?) and he steps inside, staring at Makoto and watching him as he looks right back at Sasuke.

He wonders why he isn't afraid of a stranger, but when the baby smiles he realizes he must think he's Itachi. Sasuke shakes his head lightly and carefully walks to Makoto, his hands on the railing of the crib and his head bent to look at his nephew. He can't believe it… He's got a nephew.

Family.

Itachi's son.

Makoto places his tiny hands on Sasuke's and bounces on his little mattress, a smile on his face. His dark hair is long and his bangs sweep into his eyes, which Sasuke swipes away with a finger. The toddler coos and makes grabby hands, and for whatever reason Sasuke could not tell him no. He picks him up like he knows the kid, cuddling him to his chest and quietly crying into his hair.

His nephew.

He's got something worth protecting. A goal that has no end; he will give his life for Makoto if he has to and he is sure that he'll have no regrets doing it. Just as Itachi would've done for his son. Just as Itachi had done for him.

Destroying Konoha wasn't going to bring around any change for the world this little guy will live in. He now cannot ignore the reality the next generation will be in; he can't allow another Itachi.

"I will protect you from this world." Sasuke mutters his promise to Makoto. The baby seems to shrug and just curls his fingers in Sasuke's shirt, and it brings the touch of a smile to Sasuke's lips.

He will become Hokage, and make the world right for you and Itachi's son. He wonders if this feeling is one of an older brother; he's prideful and scared and doesn't want to let go of the baby.

And when Sasuke gets the chance to ask Itachi during the war, he confirms with a fond smile that it's exactly that.

#sasuke uchiha & reader #sasuke uchiha x reader #itachi uchiha x reader #sasuke uchiha #itachi uchiha #naruto #naruto shippuden #fic

[freakshowtwopointoh]

Any Way The Wind Blows - All I've Ever Known Part 1

Everybody is a fair weather friend

In the end, you're better off alone

| next >

New start. New life. That’s what I kept reminding myself as I made my way into the townhouse that had just been mine for most of the summer, but would now be home to me, and my older brother, and his friends. Now that they were back from break, my summer of re-adjusting to “normal” (read: supe) life was ending, and it was time to begin work.

I pushed my glasses back into position and pulled my backpack fully onto my back before heading in to say hello. When I opened the front door, I was greeted immediately by a massive bear hug from my older brother, Luke Riordan. I hugged him back warmly. We may not have gotten along super well as kids, but when you lose one brother, you hold the other one closer. 

“Hey! I’m glad you made it safe.” I said, pulling away to hang my backpack by the door.

“We all did.” came a feminine voice from behind him, and I smiled wider when I realized that Cate was already here. I hadn’t met Luke’s friends yet, but Cate had come home to our place for holidays sometimes, and she’s the sweetest. I hugged her as well.

“Cate! It’s so good to see you again. It’s been too long.”

“So this must be the infamous Maggie.” came a deeper voice from the living area. 

“Andre, Jordan, this is my baby sister Maggie. Mags, this is Andre, and Jordan is in the kitchen.” 

“It’s nice to meet you both.” I said, smiling. Andre clapped me on the back. 

“Welcome to hell, newbie.” he said. I laughed. Jordan nodded in my direction before opening the fridge. 

I easily slipped into the bubbly facade I usually put on, especially around family. Luke made it easy, his good natured attitude allowing me to fully play the part of a bubbly college girl, whose biggest decisions were what to wear and what to drink. 

“So, how’d you get in as a T.A. in your first semester?” Andre asked. “I remember Jordan was gearing up to apply for like, ever.” He grinned, unfazed by the glare Jordan sent across the room. I forced myself to smile lightly, as if this question was straightforward. You rehearsed for this. You know what to say. I reminded myself. 

“Oh, I was working with Professor Park this summer to get caught up - so I could be on track to graduate on time. And she was impressed by my resume and everything, so she allowed me to submit an application.” I said, hoping the rehearsed lie sounded natural enough. Andre seemed appeased, but I could still feel Jordan’s glare burning a hole in the back of my head. 

“What’d you have to do to get caught up?” Cate asked curiously. 

“Oh, just some combat training. They don’t exactly offer those classes at traditional colleges.” I said, laughing. I had followed my script, and it played out exactly as Grace told me it would. Maybe this all would work - maybe I could finally put it all behind me. Luke jumped in with a story of his own about his training, and the focus was off of me. 

Well, mostly. It honestly felt like Jordan had been staring at me from the moment I walked into the room, as if I was a caged animal about to strike. But finally, Jordan left the common area, mumbling something incoherent. The rest of us kept chatting for another half hour or so before I excused myself.

“Alright, well, I have to go check on a few things for Professor Park’s classes before day one. I’ll talk to you guys later. I’m excited that you guys are finally here, it's been boring living here all alone.” I said, smiling. I waved goodbye and headed upstairs to my room, one of three smaller single bedrooms. 

Looking around the room I had come to call home over the last few months, it felt like the room of another person. A girl whose life I had been forced to assume, no questions asked. But there were bits of truth, tucked amongst the lies. My prescription strength sleep aids next to my bed, the worn brown leather moleskine under my mattress, the worn out baby blanket tucked under my pillow. 

---

The first week of classes at Godolkin was... certainly an experience. First of all, my brother’s face is like, everywhere. It’s weird seeing my goofy ass big brother plastered on posters like Homelander or something. Secondly, everyone stared at me. All the time. Obviously, people knew I was Luke’s sister, and rumors spiraled from there. Shetty and Park had warned me about this part, but it was still surreal to feel it. My other school was massive, over 10,000 undergraduate students. I easily slid into the backround when I wanted to, and I was free to be who I was and do what I wanted. But here, it felt like I needed to be perfect all the time. Like one wrong move, and my parents would show up to berate me about failing to uphold the family name. Honestly, it was like I was back in fucking high school, except my best friend and little brother is dead, and I’m alone.

I gritted my teeth as I went into Hayley Miller’s studio for a staged interview with Luke. I’d been prepped on the script and I was still dreading the entire thing. Park said it would help me begin to ‘make a name for myself’, and I couldn’t come up with an excuse not to go. 

So there I am, sitting across from her, dressed in stiff designer clothes, reading off of a screen. My brother’s canned laughter ringing in my ears. 

“So, what made you transfer? What made you choose Godolkin University?” She said, a smile made of plastic. 

“Honestly, Luke and I had a long conversation about our futures, and what we wanted out of life. And he told me, I’ll never forget this,” I said conspiratorially to Hayley, as if I was sharing a meaningful memory instead of a manufactured cover-up. “You have so much more potential than anyone at that normie school could ever know. And he was right. Professor Park, a woman I’d never met before coming here, saw my potential immediately. And with a lot of hard work over the summer - they don’t have combat training at normie colleges - I’ve been finding success.” A fake grin plastered across my face as I recited the cover-up, a story so second nature I almost didn’t need the teleprompter.

“Wow, Luke, that’s quite the sentiment. It’s clear you two are very close.” 

The banter continued for a little while, and I fell into autopilot, trying to keep myself from getting too upset by the layers of lies falling from our lips. The script carefully avoided any mention of our deceased brother, or anything of substance about what my nebulous potential was. I performed a brief demonstration of my powers, producing a small sphere of pure energy, a pale purple ball of light floating above my hand. The interview ended, we said our thanks, and disappeared into our respective green rooms. 

I love Luke, I really do, but our relationship has always been complex. He lives up to his superhero name, always has. Mom and Dad’s perfect Golden Boy, always ready to fall in line behind our father. Just like our mom. And when Sam disappeared, he was quick to accept whatever story he was fed. No matter that Sam was stronger than either of us. No matter that Sam would never just... leave us with no warning. I shook my head to clear it - I need to stay focused. 

Making my way back to the townhouse, I began running through my remaining to-dos in my mind, as I usually did to keep my mind on the present and the future instead of the past. Park was an easy enough professor to TA for, especially since her biggest classes were courses I’d aced already. One of the stupidest parts of this godforsaken deal was that I needed to pretend as if I hadn’t been succeeding at my old school. All my transcripts, my research papers, and even my name on the Dean’s List was scrubbed. I enjoyed being relatively unknown outside of my efforts, but having those efforts taken from me was brutal. Dad’s lawyer said it was ‘standard practice’ and that it ‘didn’t take away from what I had achieved’. But I would now and forever be exclusively defined by my family and my powers. 

I walked brusquely through the common area of the townhouse, making my way upstairs quickly, only to be stopped by Jordan of all people. Leaning casually against the wall, they were basically blocking my way, using their larger form to their advantage. 

“So how’d you get in here anyways?” they asked, feigning nonchalance. “I mean, besides mommy and daddy buying another building.”I held back an exasperated groan as I met their eyes. I did not have the time or energy to deal with them right now. 

“I applied, just like everyone else. Feel free to request a copy of my application from Professor Park - I’m sure she’ll answer any questions you have.” I said coolly, knowing full well that no professor at this school will answer any questions they have. And it has nothing to do with my parentage. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I do have work to do.” I said, attempting to make my way around them. I watched the indecision and irritation flash across their face as they reluctantly stepped aside.

“Do you always run from your problems, little mouse?” They taunted me as I entered my room. I wasn’t going to dignify that with a response, no matter how irritatingly easily they got under my skin. I’m not running away from anything. I thought bitterly, but that small voice inside of me reminded me that no matter how much I like to imagine that I had no power or control over the choices I made or the paperwork I signed... I still picked up that pen. Every choice I made led me to where I am, and now I have to lie in it. Even if that means dealing with hot, nosy roommates.

| next >

edits by @barbieprincesshilton

#jordan li #gen v #gen v prime #gen v fic #jordan li x reader #angst #gen v smut #luke riordan #lukes little sister x jordan li #sam riordan

[fallingforel]

Promptmas day 7-All I want for christmas- Matty healy

A/n a very merry christmas to all those who celebrate sorry this one’s a bit of a sad one and i don’t really like it but at least it’s okay(?) love el xx

p.s i will be writing the rest by new years i promise the prompts will be done by the end of the year xx

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It was the run up to christmas and my best friend matty and I were doing our annual christmas together. it was like this every year spending christmas with mattys family since my parents had died, 4 years ago. Matty and I had been best mates since we were 14 I can still remember it as clear as day.

⋆｡°✩

20 years ago,

“what are you doing here?” I ask the curly haired boy stood in my smoking spot, i came here to clear my head on days where i wasn’t in the right frame of mind to deal with my peers, it wasn’t deep feeling, it was just a sense of feeling I didn’t belong.

“smoking?” he says but more questioning it. “you look like you need a fag.” he says moving his hand that held the cigarette over his eyes, suggesting my eyes which were red roar from where i had been crying over another girl who had called me a bitch and slag.

“i do. your in my spot.” i say back dryly not being bothered with tone and dealing with another person today. “am i? i didn’t realise this was a spot with your name marked on it?” he remarks quite snappily. “it is.” i move over to where he was stood moving him slightly so i could point to where my name was carved out on the wall, “y/n’s spot, huh. so it is. my bad. i’ve heard a lot of things about you, I don’t believe them by the way. I’ve seen you around, you seem like a nice lass. m’names matty by the way.” “nice to meet you. why don’t you believe the things said about me? everyone else does.” “think you’re just misunderstood, like i am, everyone in this shitty school spreads things about people. I’ve had my fair share of the comments too. so have ross and george. not adam though. he keeps to himself.” “who are adam ross and george?” “my mates they’d like you. we’re friends now by the way” he says leaning in to give me a hug.

and that was that. after we had finished our fags he introduced me to the rest of his friends and we were our own group, matty and I were the closest though. we were the most misunderstood people in that school, ross adam and george still stood by us though. I think matty was the only one who truly understood what i was going through though.

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23rd december, 2023

“are you excited, mums excited. she says she’s got lots planned for us this year. something about going out in town? she said you’d know” Matty says from the drivers seat, it was like this every year, matty would tell me what the plan was. we always drove down on the 23rd, splitting the drive we’d swap half way through. “oh yeah. she wants a girls day, we’re doing a spot of christmas shopping and coffee and after we’ve finished that we’d all go to my mum and dads grave after we’ve finished shopping. Are you coming? you don’t have to.” I say changing the radio station, it was my parents favourite christmas song. this time of year was always the hardest time for me, my parents loved christmas. but as long as i busied myself and spent it surrounded by my second family. “Yeah. we’ll all go. we always do darling. i’m not going to leave you to do that on your own am i? i’ve never left you high and dry. have i?” “apart from when you were in rehab” “apart from when I was in rehab. but apart from that never happened. has it?” “no. your right. sorry” “what you saying sorry for daft cow?” matty chuckles. “i don’t know. you know what im like this time of year.” “I do, that’s why it’s going to be a good Christmas with the healys darling, we always make it fun” he says focusing on the road now more than ever as we were closer to the northern quarter now so it was bad weather, and the wind was blowing about everywhere.

⋆｡°✩

“oh y/n I’m so glad you’re here, lincoln and louis are driving me insane, i need some girl presence in the house” she says linking our arms and dragging me away from the car, “cheers mum. just let me drag all the shit inside yeah?” “language matthew! and yes, your a big boy you can do it, if you need help you have your brother and lincoln.” she says shouting towards where mattys car sat on the drive.

“you and I are going out in town in a bit, we should definitely have a cuppa first. you must be exhausted after the drive. did he make you drive this year?” “we always say that we’ll split it but he never lets me. i thought this year would finally be the year especially with the wind, but no.” “it’s good that he does that, i would tell him off if he made you drive” “i think that’s mainly why he doesn’t you know? he doesn’t want a bollocking from his mother when you see me step out of the drivers seat” “probably, boys and their mothers hey?” she says handing me my cup of tea“yeah i know, thank you.” i say taking it from her.

“how are you coping anyway? i know this time of year is always difficult for you love.” “yeah, i’m doing okay. i mean im not completely okay. i never will be i think, but im the best i can be, you are always welcoming the lot of you. thank you for having me.” “no worries. i’ve known you for twenty years darling, your family. it’d be stupid to say no, besides you’ve been spending christmas with us for twenty years in one way or another. i’d be stupid to say no to not spending christmas with my daughter in law” i laugh “you have got to stop calling me that” i say tapping her arm “it’s bound to happen one way or another, your both besotted with eachother. he hasn’t been with anyone since gabby.” “no. i’m not in love with him” “you are, you just haven’t realised it yet my love” “denise!“ “okay! okay! i’ll stop. but you’ll realise it, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but one day, one day you’ll realise.”

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it had been a good day, after finishing our cups of tea, denise and i headed in to town grabbing some last minute christmas presents. we found some nice crackers in town and decided that we would put pull one and put it in the middle of my mum and dads grave so it looked like they were there with us. we were just heading in to costa after putting our bags into the car to have a coffee where we were meeting louis matty lincoln and tim before heading to my parents grave to put some flowers down. we did it every year, due to my parents being close to everyone in mattys family. so they came along with me, i think it’s also mainly because they don’t want me doing it alone though. i don’t mind the extra company though.

“merry christmas mum and dad. I love you, hope you’re spreading joy up there.” I say placing the flowers and in the middle of their graves then placing and kissing both of their headstones. “merry christmas y/m/n and y/d/n. thank you for everything you did for us. we love you.” matty says next going to kiss their headstones.

matty and i pulled the cracker and placed the joke hat and gift around it and stepped back.

we stood there for a few minutes making sure their graves were clean before leaving.

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a little bit later after dinner everyone had moved into the living room and started playing games. i excused myself to go sit out on the porch so i could have a moment to myself, i was incredibly grateful for the company. but i just need a moment from all the hustle and bustle of the healy’s to reflect on memories of christmases spent with my parents and talk to them.

i was on my second fag when i heard the door close behind me “you’ve been out here for an hour y/n. are you okay” mattys voice breaks the silence of the night. “i’m okay. i just miss my mum and dad. i wish i had them back. you know?” “Im not going to lie to you and say I understand, because i don’t. but i will say this, We all miss them very much. and i know right now you feel like a burden but i promise you’re not, you never have been y/n. you’re a healy through and through, we’ve spent 20 years being friends sweetheart, my family love you I love you.” he says while inching closer and closer towards me until my back is pressed against his chest “what are you saying matthew?” I ask turning to face him our faces coming closer than i thought they would be. “i’m saying that I love you, i always have darling. and I would like santa to give me you. that’s all i want for christmas. you.” “matty. I-“ tears roll down my face my voice coming out in choked sobs before i manage to say “I love you too matty. thank you for showing me that the whole world isn’t against me. i think it’d be nice to have each other for christmas. i haven’t got you anything anyway” i say joking before crashing my lips on to his.

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end.

#matty healy #matty healy x you #matty healy angst #matty healy x oc #matty healy fic #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x reader #matty healy fluff #christmas75 #christmas prompts

[timeofjuly]

i keep thinking of the scenario if electrician were to run into ppl of her past like izzy from new years… i like imagine her going “ bunny it’s been so long you look better then ever “ and electrician is like 😀 do i know you..? due to their gaps in memory (i’m also interested how much their memory will affect them as the story progresses, i myself suffer from the issue and being young it’s kinda scary sometimes 😞)

This ask made me write something! This is set pre-RTC in the earlier days of MC’s sobriety. They’ve just moved to New Ebott here. 

Read it on AO3 or read it below!

Licence

You’re leaving the DMV, of all the fucking places, when it happens. 

Most people hate the DMV but you had practically skipped into the place for your eleven am appointment, overcome with joy at the thought of getting your driver’s licence back. The public transportation in New Ebott is great and your ass looks amazing after all the cycling you’ve been doing when the weather is nice, but there’s something about the independence of a car that you’ve missed. With your licence back, your employment prospects won’t be limited to the boundaries of public transport and your stamina when pedalling. 

With your licence back, you’ll be able to go to school. 

That’s the thing you’re most excited about. School. College. University. Whatever. You just want to learn something, to use the brain that you’ve let go to shit. You don’t even care what - at this point, with your dismal record and embarrassing results from high school, you’ll take what you can get. 

You’ve wasted enough of your life and you don’t want to squander a second more. 

After tucking your brand new licence safely in your back pocket, you leave the DMV, still smiling, and make your way to the bus stop. You’ll miss catching it; all the drivers are lovely and it’s nice to be driven around the city, like your own personal tour. 

You’ve got time to kill until the bus arrives, so you open your phone and start scrolling through hundreds of second hand car listings. 

You’re not picky; you have a tight budget and will probably hit your fair share of curbs in it anyway, but it’s nice to look at the fancier ones and dream. A convertible sounds nice; there’s a bright red one for sale, way outside of your budget. You imagine the wind in your hair, the sheer cool factor of rolling down the street with the top down. Oh, or maybe a motorbike; you had loved your stupid, ugly little scooter, and a motorbike would be even better. And you’d get to wear all the sexy leather gear. Double win. 

“Oh my stars, do my eyes deceive me?”

The cold hand of panic twists through your ribcage and wraps around your heart, fingers taking hold and squeezing. 

You know that voice. 

You turn around.

On the sidewalk are two people staring at you with equally ecstatic expressions and you only recognise one of them. 

Izzy looks… well, she looks good, you suppose, clothes fashionable and scales polished to a sheen, though you can see a few of them are missing. The spines on her head are droopy, a little paler in colour than what you remember, and there’s a beadiness to her eyes that you never noticed before. 

You haven’t seen her in months but from how unfamiliar she looks, it feels more like years. 

“Damn, you’re looking good!” says the man you don’t recognise. 

And you know that you knew this person once, can hear the echo of his voice through the fog of your memory, even recognise his hands for the way they’d felt on your skin, but there’s something missing, something your stupid, ruined, useless brain is unable to grasp.

“Hey,” you say, affecting your brightest party-girl smile. “Long time no see.”

“Fucking hell, no shit!” the man laughs. He’s handsome, tall and very blond. “How’ve you been? You look so different.”

With each month you add to your sobriety, you’re told that with increasing frequency. You don’t really see it yourself - you feel like the exact same person most of the time. Worse, even. You’re horrible to be around when you’re in pain. 

“Good, really good,” you say. “How have –”

“Dude, I thought you were dead!” Izzy crows, looking delighted. “You just disappeared, like that.” She snaps her fingers, a jarring scrape of scale-on-claw. 

“Yeah, we all thought that Jesse threw the bunny out with the bath water,” the man says. His tone is light, like it’s a fucking joke or something. 

This person is a stranger to you. You couldn’t even guess his name if you tried. And yet he knows about that —

You tense. Pull a smile to your face. Do your best to shake off the phantom feeling of ice crystallising on the tip of your nose. “Nah, I’m not that easy to get rid of.”

And he laughs and so does Izzy and you laugh too, even though it feels like glass in your throat, because what else can you do?

“Well, I’m glad,” says Izzy and then she sweeps you up into a hug. She smells like old perfume clinging to unwashed clothes and you can feel a faint tremble in her hands as they grip your back. 

You hug back, even though you suddenly feel strange and unwieldy, like your arms aren’t your own. 

I want to go home, you think. Another thing you’d be able to do if you just had a fucking car and hadn’t lost your fucking licence in the first place. 

Izzy pulls back but then the man swoops in to take her place. You’re pressed to the line of his body, and though you’ve probably seen it naked, touched it all over, the feel of it is foreign to you. 

You let go first. 

“What’re you doing in New Ebott, anyway?” Izzy asks. 

“Just passing through,” you lie, because fuck if you’re letting her know that you live here now. “What about you guys?”

“Same thing,” Izzy says. “We’re crashing with Palyso at the moment, remember him?”

Nope. 

“Oh, yeah, totally.”

“Yeah, good guy, really funny. Hey, he’s actually having a party tonight, you should come! Just like old times.” The stranger waggles his eyebrows at you. 

You don’t need to remember the specifics to work out what he means. 

“Yeah, come with us,” Izzy begs. “Everyone’ll be so happy to see you. I’ll make it worth your while, I promise.”

The itch you’re not allowed to scratch burns. It’d be so easy, so fucking easy, to say yes. What’s one night? You don’t even need to use; who says you can’t have fun sober?

The word yes sits in your mouth like a hot coal and then the memory of water, cracking with thin shards of ice, washes over it. 

The desire is gutted out. Not even smoke remains. 

“I’ll sit this one out,” you say. 

“Aw, c’mon, bunny! You’ve gotta—“

The sound of an engine rumbles behind you and your soul sings with relief. 

Thank you, timely public transportation of New Ebott. 

“This is me,” you say, hoping you sound apologetic. “It was nice seeing you guys!”

You don’t wait for a reply, practically flinging yourself onto the bus. The driver gives you a concerned look - you’re a regular and most of them know you by name  - but you just give her a reassuring grin, because you’re fine. You’re fine. You’re completely, one hundred per cent fine. 

You take a seat near the front and stare down at your hands. You think of the way Izzy's shook. The way yours had once. The way they don’t anymore. You hadn’t noticed that until now. 

God fucking damnit. 

Stupid, unwarranted tears prickle hot at your eyes and worse, there’s something sharp poking you in the butt. 

Fearing that you’ve sat in something that’ll rip a hole in your pants - wouldn’t that be your fucking luck - you lift your hips and grope blindly at your ass. 

Oh, right. 

You forgot that you wedged it in your pocket after leaving the DMV. 

You look down at your brand new licence, turning the shiny plastic card around in your hands. Your own face stares back up at you. 

You dig around in your purse and from the very bottom, unearth the remains of your old licence, kept purely for sentimental reasons. It’s cut clean down the middle, made unusable the moment you’d lost it, but the image of your face is still intact. 

You compare the two, side-by-side. In the new one, your face is fuller and your skin smoother. Your lips have colour to them and your eyes are bright and awake, the whites white rather than bloodshot yellow. 

In the new one, you’re smiling. 

Huh. You see it, now. 

You do look different after all.

#silver string #Licence #the electrician #in writing this i realised licence is a word i STRUGGLE to spell #it's my restaurant #sorry for the delay in this anon! #i wanted to write this properly for you #i am sorry you struggle with similar issues to MC #i am sending virtual hugs #also #if you're thinking that this contradicts the throwaway line about mc moving to new ebott for school #you are correct #it does lmao #but i have decided i don't care! i contain Multitudes #and have just Changed That Line lol

[pinkandpurple360]

As much as I like Fizz, ep 6 & 7 combined completely changed him from a sassy, self confident performer to a defenseless, weak-willed man chasing the approval of others to the point where he doesn’t seem to be able to hold his own opinions or choices. Ep 7 is especially bad since both Oz and Blitz made the choice for Fizz that he should stop working for Mammon and kept parroting over and over how shit Mammon is and how he doesn’t need to perform, just stop, just sit this one out, you’re better than him anyways, until (regardless if Oz and Blitz are right) Fizz basically folded to the loudest voices in the room and didn’t so much burn the bridge he had working with Mammon as he did take a fucking nuke to it, leaving Fizz entirely dependent on Oz from this point forward. Hate to say it, but Blitz was right in ep 6, fucking that lust guy IS what Fizz is all about now :(

Yup. I guess he isn’t a purse dog for mammon, but he is for Ozzie. He even has a purse dog Ozzie bought for him. All that’s left for fizz now is to be married off to Ozzie and become the “queen” to which no one will be shocked. And leave all the inferior non Fizzarolli imps in the dust as he becomes immortal and they stay mortal.

And the blame for building these traumatising, violating sex dolls in Fizzs image has been completely removed from Ozzie even though he built, designed, shipped out, and profited off of all of them. Nah he doesn’t really like doing it and has a feeling fizz doesn’t either. It’s a bit late now for that conversation Ozzie. To be honest I have to wonder if Oz didn’t rent fizz from mammon. And making those things is how he paid for it. So he either

a. Profited off of his exploitation then fell in love after and got possessive of him

b. Was too powerless to stop fizz’s abuse and allowed himself to be used as a tool in his exploitation

To be fair he was sassy like that again as soon as he got out of that tower and went to Greed, he got to act like an adult for once. No more “pwease big daddy” “I can’t cook food” “I don’t do danger” it became “my horns were always bigger than yours weren’t they” “that’s what resilience and talent gets ya” then when they got roped and put in a cage his personality flipped to baby again…lame. Which personality is the real him?

Yeah he’s basically “Ozzies” in every sense of the word. But at least Oz says fizz can have a vacation, but he’ll probably be accompanying him of course.

Another big point of contention for me was how Blitz asked at the start “isn’t being the star of our imp circus enough?” And fizz basically says “no” he needs royal approval.

“I’m barely worthy of working with a King of Sin (could be Ozzie or mammon he’s talking about here) because this is who I am” he then reveals his horns but also, the imp circus branding on his head. Which he replaces with Ozzies heart.

So he doesn’t need that royal demon kings approval (Mammon) he can just have this other royal demon kings approval instead. One who replaced his imp partner and best friend who’s been saying this to him all along. He needed a rich, wealthy, superior being, to give him the male approval he craves. The fact it’s always been Oz who makes the decision on who gets to know their secret, even when Fizz is scared and uncomfortable. Also makes me mad.

To be honest it’s like a really long winded way of telling a housewife not to have a career cause her rich husband will just buy her anything she wants.

“I don’t have trauma or a need for parental figures or freines or a career anymore cause I have a nice rich boyfriend who wants to sleep with me” Great writing…

#fizzarozzie critical

[imhereformysciencefriends]

@mcyt-yuri-week Day 7, Free day!

Niki/Lady Death for this one, read on AO3 here

MCD but that's like, the premise

Niki was drugged and drunk for it, at least. Hazed into a stupor where she really couldn’t feel anything but floaty, tangentially aware of the hooded and robed figures around her, the torchlight, her own vulnerability, but untouched by it. Like watching it happen to someone else, in third person. The chanting people sent prayers down to Death, and Niki was urged to lay out on a stone plinth. Her flesh prickled at its coldness, but that, too, she barely felt.

The knife they used was sharp. She barely even felt it.

A butterfly landed on the plinth next to her, beautiful blues and blacks and dark purples, and Niki swore she heard it laughing.

Acute awareness hit her like a minecart, but not any pain. In fact, as she glanced down at where the hole in her chest should be, she found herself dressed in her favorite sweater and overalls, no worse for wear. There was an almost… iridescence to her, though, fiery pinks and oranges and reds.

She was somewhere entirely unfamiliar, the clover and flowers beneath her feet all a uniform, night-sky blue. The sky itself was only just a shade darker, barely keeping off black. It stretched out for miles in each direction, the landscape unbroken save for the occasional tree which was also that midnight blue, leaves rustling in nonexistent wind.

The air was unnaturally still here.

Niki realized she wasn’t breathing.

Well, she had just died. It only made sense.

The horizon changed, a massive, black shape taking form so far away Niki at first didn’t see it. But then the form grew closer, and Niki recognized Her Ladyship.

Lady Death wore the wide brimmed hat and veil she was always depicted with, the high-necked dress and long sleeves, the lacey gloves. Much of what she wore was sheer or see-through fabric, providing a beautiful view to her ample bust, the soft curves of her thighs and calves, the warm roundness of her hands and arms.

The nonexistent wind blew her veil just barely open, and Niki caught a glimpse of the picked-clean bone of her skull. Lady Death was soft bodied and long haired and rounded only where her clothing covered her. To glimpse her true form was to see the skeleton only.

Her painted lips were round and soft and black. She smiled at Niki.

Niki hadn’t even realized she’d dropped to her knees.

“I don’t know why you silly humans keep sending me sacrifices,” Her Ladyship said, voice lilting and giggling faintly. “You all will come to me eventually. My power does not depend on your worship like lesser gods.”

Niki realized that this was a conversational beat where she was supposed to respond, but her empty mouth hung open and silent when she tried. Her thoughts themselves were void of words, much less her speech.

Death giggled.

“I do tend to have that effect on people.”

Niki blinked, and tried desperately to get herself to say something. Even something stupid that would embarrass her! Anything to make it seem like she wasn’t ignoring The Literal Goddess Of Death.

But Lady Death was patient (as a goddess of her nature would have to be, most certainly) and let Niki struggle through the mental block of bearing witness to divinity.

“Hi,” she managed, quite stupidly indeed, and Lady Death gave a full belly laugh, her cheeks scrunching up against her eyes and her hair shaking with the bellows.

“Hello, little Niki! It’s nice to finally meet you!”

“Nice to meet you,” she said, her voice very very small, very quiet. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the goddess who’d seated herself next to her, but she didn’t need to blink, so.

“How are you feeling?” Lady Death asked warmly. Niki felt the words in her… body(?) like a physical warmth.

“Shocked, I think.”

“That’s fair. Most people feel that way, even when they knew that this was coming.”

Niki felt a little better at that.

“It’s… an honor to meet you,” Niki tried, angling for polite.

Lady Death giggled again, cheeks warm with a subtle flush and lips curved mischievously. Niki felt a shiver strike through her, clean down her spine.

“The pleasure is all mine, little Niki,” the goddess said, and if Niki had a heart she was certain it would be suddenly pounding. Lady Death reached forward and cupped Niki’s face in two warm, soft hands, the lace of her gloves faintly ticklish against Niki’s now-sensitive skin. Her lips parted, but like before, she was too stunned to speak. Particularly as her Ladyship bent in, face close to Niki’s, the fluttering of her veil so close Niki felt phantoms of its touch against her nose.

“You are so lovely. You know, I’m really not supposed to do this, it isn’t fair to everyone else. But I have been known for being quite the rulebreaker, when it comes to my favorites.”

“Your—” Niki stuttered, now flushed full red. Favorite? But Niki had only just now died, and they’d only just met?

As though reading her thoughts, Lady Death continued, “It’s alright, sweet little thing. You’ll have plenty of time to get to know me later, once you’re all done.”

All done? And what was this about breaking rules, too!?

“Um, Lady Goddess…” Niki started, but the proximity of their faces once again had her at something of a loss for words. “What do you, what do you mean?” she asked, hoping the question wasn’t so vague that she couldn’t answer it.

Lady Death giggled again, then reached one hand up to touch her veil. She parted it—just barely—and Niki would’ve gasped if she’d had any breath, when she leaned all the way in and kissed her. It was the touch of gleaming white teeth to breathless lips, and for only a fleeting moment also, but to Niki it was a kiss more intimate than any she’d ever received in life.

Then Lady Death was pulling back and giggling at her again, catlike and smug, her veil replaced so Niki saw soft flesh and round, plush lips.

“I mean you’re not to be mine—just yet. Not in full, little Niki. Though I do hope you’ll remember this, won’t you sweetheart?”

Niki wasn’t sure she could ever forget, but before she could answer, or ask any more of her thousand questions she sat so blankly on, the goddess was fading from her view, and so was the dark blue place. And so was her consciousness. And her existence altogether.

She gasped awake, hands folded neatly over her belly, in the middle of a flower field, dappled sunlight barely making it through the leaves of the tree she “slept” under.

Niki sat up slowly, examining herself. She was breathing. Her heart pulsed in her chest. She was no longer in that in-between place. The fiery pinks and oranges that hazed around her were gone.

Had it all been—no, it couldn’t have. She yanked down the neckline of her dress and found a massive scar where they’d cut out her heart, and fingers pressed to the tissue reassured her once again that her heart was beating there.

What had happened? Why was she alive? She had passed into the domain of the Goddess of Death, the eternal garden from which no soul was ever meant to return. How was she back here, in the domain of the living?

She raised her fingertips from her heart to her lips. She could not feel the cool press of bone against them, but in her memory, she was able to summon the phantom of it. The sensation of kissing Lady Death.

Niki’s freshly forged heart skipped a beat.

#mcytyuriweek2023 #Niki Nihachu #Lady Death #Goddess of Death #mcyt #dream smp #DSMP #mcyt yuri week #deathniki #nikideath #my writing #haro writes #ritual sacrifice #human sacrifice #major character undeath #temporary character death

[fierceawakening]

So I'm thinking about this whole phenomenon I'm seeing where people are going "What Hamas did is fine because resisting occupation is always messy and we've tried being polite," as if "slaughtering kids and taking civilians hostage" is "being impolite" or something. (The Geneva Convention: A White Thing For Dumb White People, Apparently.)

And maybe I'm wildly overgeneralizing from my own weird experiences, but I suspect part of the reason people are easily swayed to think of "obvious war crimes" as "a little messy" even if they don't see themselves as at all antisemitic might be

When I was a wee Fiercelet in the 1980's, the messaging people like me who are neither personally connected to Israel or Palestine in any way was that Israel Is Obviously Good. The reason given for this is that there were "no other democracies" in the Middle East. Israel was described as this one bright spot of civilization amid some weird Zone of Barbarism, and the Zone of Barbarism wanted to kill them. This wasn't explained in any detail at all, just presented kind of in the way We're Democracy and They're Communism was about the USSR at the time.

The other thing I recall people talking about was Judeo-Christian Values. I know now from constant gripes from Jumblr that this is Not Actually A Thing, but at the time I was too young to really question it. And it fit with the narrative that there were People Relevantly Like Us, The Enlightened United States, in some benighted Nondemocracy Zone.

The Nondemocracy was in some vague way tied to these evil people bedeviling our enlightened ally due to their Being Religious Badly, and only once they somehow saw the light of Democracy could they find a way to Be Religious Nicely, at which point we could call it Judeochristoislamic Values and have a big party ig.

All of which is a long winded way to say it utterly shocked me when I got to college and pro-intifada groups started saying sound bites to me like "Israel has tanks; Gaza has rocks. They're killing people with tanks just for throwing rocks. If your family had been killed by tanks, wouldn't you throw rocks too?" (I am not saying I'm sure this is accurate; I now suspect at least some spin. But this is what other students your age set up a table at a fair and tell you.)

Hearing that throws the whole narrative about how we're supposed to love Israel because they're uniquely lacking in barbarism into the trash very quickly.

And that I think is why it's very easy to convince left-leaning white USians that Israel is settler colonialist and deserves whatever it gets. Because white college students are already beginning to see that while democracy is good, the jingoism we're sold about how we're better than anyone else is wild exaggeration built on an unavoidably racist base.

So when someone says "the only reason you think Hamas are terrorists is because they're brown and you've been told they're antidemocratic," it's very easy to go "huh. Maybe so," even if you don't buy into obvious antisemitic conspiracy theories or anything else like that.

Which is why it's so important to have all the facts about what everyone is actually doing, and consider them against the backdrop of what you think just war is.

[zhongrin]

G I X Y D

:)

selfship a-z ask game ->

cw. slight angst on "I"

G - Greetings what was their first meeting like?

𝔃𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓲 ᡣ𐭩 this fic hahaha

ⲇⳑ ⲏⲇⳕτⲏⲇϻ ᡣ𐭩 at al haitham's grandmother's house, while the adults are chatting over teatime: "what'cha reading?" "…. a book." "…. fair enough. *proceeds to take a book from the shelf and reads it beside him*"

𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔶 ᡣ𐭩 "*is especially nervous bc oh no he's hot* hello, your grace." "oh, hi. *notices i'm trembling like a pitiful wet dog* haha, relax, i don't bite." "*dies a little inside* y-yes, your grace...."

I - Imagine what do they imagine their futures together like?

𝔃𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓲 ᡣ𐭩 all contracts comes to an end eventually, once the conditions are fulfilled ー and the same goes for ours. but until then, he'll just enjoy walking in the long winding path that is an immortal's life. maybe a few kids, watch over our descendants, be awed at the technological advancements of liyue… as they say, when the boat gets to the bridge-head, it will naturally go straight.

ⲇⳑ ⲏⲇⳕτⲏⲇϻ ᡣ𐭩 we're both chronic planners, so we have regular talks about it and therefore a clear plan on what we want or not want to do in the future. married, preferably two kids, a nice pension plan, some savings in the bank, adopt a dog when the kids leave the nest, enjoy retirement reading books and doing whatever nerdy hobbies we want to enjoy.

𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔶 ᡣ𐭩 this man keeps telling himself not to dream too high lest it all crash down horribly at the end. honestly, with his past i think a part of him desperately wants a happy little family of his own, but the other half is so afraid he'll fuck it all up because he's never really truly experienced familial love. but deep in his heart he really just wants a resemblance of a normal life ー he knows his situation isn't ideal, but he wants a little family he can care for and be surrounded with as his fists get weaker and he passes down the title of the fortress' administrator to a suitable successor.

X - X-ray how do they help the other if they’re sick or tired?

𝔃𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓲 ᡣ𐭩 he's big on acts of service and words of affirmation, so he'll brew a pot of osmanthus tea and either sits me down to relax (if i'm tired) or tuck me in to bed (if i'm sick). househusband material, will cook and do all the chores flawlessly. liwei and liwen (especially the former) tries to sneak past him to cuddle with me, but he'd scoop up the littol noodles and distract them somehow ᰔᩚ

ⲇⳑ ⲏⲇⳕτⲏⲇϻ ᡣ𐭩 makes sure to tick all the steps in 'how to care for a sick person' book. but also he takes all the things that his grandparents do for him whenever he got sick ᰔᩚ like making me soup and (if i plead enough times) humming a calming lullaby to help me sleep hehe

𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔶 ᡣ𐭩 makes sure that i'm taking time off from work, calls sigewinne for a home visit, and most of all, if i have fever, he'd personally use his hand as a cold compress. none of the staffs in the fortress of meropide would ever imagine they'd hear an excuse "sorry, can't come to work today, i need to be my wife's compress." from their administrator but they let him skip work since they know he deserves the rest anyway :3

Y - Yes who would propose? What would the proposal be like?

answered here ->

D - Danger how do they react to finding out the other person is in trouble?

...... *squints* i seem to remember answering a selfship ask game with this prompt last time...

𝔃𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓲 ᡣ𐭩 if it's within liyue, i'd like to think that he'd know almost immediately, but if not, it would be a little more complicated. depending on the severity of said danger... hmm.... well.... let's just say he wouldn't take it just lying down....

ⲇⳑ ⲏⲇⳕτⲏⲇϻ ᡣ𐭩 have we ever seen al haitham truly furious or 'panicked' in-game? (mmm that azar cutscene... yummy... but i mean that's him acting mad so does it count??) i'd like to think that he still tries to be rational, figure out a way to handle things efficiently... but push a man hard enough and he'll break eventually. just remember what they say about the quiet/calm ones...

𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔶 ᡣ𐭩 ohohoho- ahem. i mean, we've seen it in his story quest. man takes action immediately. will throw a few punches if need be. if the duke wants somebody dead, he needs no justification. understood? ˙ ᵕ ˙

#rin answers #rin is having tea with: queen 💙 #rin selfships #zhongrin #meitham #wrin

[averagejoesolomon]

Here you go! Have another chapter! Can you spot all the things these boys don't say to one another, because boy howdy, there are a lot of them. Cannot wait for these events to unfold. If you're new here, you can read Full Circle from the beginning on Ao3.

Chapter Seven

“Boston’ll lead the season, but the Yanks are gonna take the series.”

The opposite end of the line is filled with clutter, dead air looping through the tinny background noise of a television on full blast. There’s talking, and laughter, and finally Joe’s crackling voice to cut through it all. “Put it on the record that this is our best phrase yet,” he says. “Seriously. Music to my ears.”

Matt rolls his eyes, leaning tight against the wall. He counts on his body to hide the bulk of this conversation, and hopes his shadow can hide the rest. “Yeah, that reminds me,” he says. “You owe me a rematch. I’m still not convinced that last move was legal.”

“It is in Virginia,” Joe confirms. “And in all but six other states.”

“I meant, like, legal as it applies to the rules of darts,” Matt clarifies, “but it’s nice to know where our barroom shenanigans stand in the eyes of the commonwealth.”

“Anyone ever told you that you’re a sore loser?”  

“Just my mama,” Matt answers. “And Danny Fisher, once, after he cheated his way through a potato sack race at the county fair.”

“Glad you’re not holding a grudge.”

“He didn’t go around the barrel, Joe.”

“Uh-huh.” It’s the same tone Joe always uses anytime Hay Springs gets mentioned, translated through thousands of miles of long distance calling. Rather than sit through another story from the Sheridan County Harvest Festival, Joe leads Matt toward more serious matters. Always so serious. “Is there a reason you called me? Or did you just need to get the Danny Fisher thing off your chest?”

With the promise of real and honest spycraft hanging over the line, Matt risks a subtle glance at one of the skillets hanging from the ceiling, checking his surroundings in the reflection. The Baxters are sealed inside their soundproof room, which Matt reckons is probably a blessing for everyone around. Rachel is locked in the cabin’s lone bathroom, with the shower to drown out anything he has to say.  In the adjoining living room, Townsend reads an old paper and pretends not to eavesdrop. That’s fine. Matt has something the kid wants and, for now, he’s probably too curious to sell out any details he might overhear.

It ain’t the most secure Matt’s ever been, but it’ll do. “I need some domestic backup,” he admits, catching on the conspiratorial sound of his own voice. He hasn’t noticed it until now, and it makes him feel like a rotten sneak. No wonder everyone thinks he’s trading secrets. “How’s your foot?”

Matt can practically hear the wind from Joe waving him off. “Forget about my foot.” Joe’s end of the line takes up a new rustling as Matt gets passed from one hand, to the other, then tucked into Joe’s shoulder. Matt’s listened to enough wiretapped feeds in his career to pick up on the faint ping of a pen pulled from its mug. The rip of an old message pad torn anew. Joe at the ready, for whatever Matt throws his way. “What do you need?”

Matt warns, “I’ve got something of a laundry list.”

And Joe insists, “I’ve got nothing but time on my hands.”

“S’not your hands I’m worried about.”

“Forget about my foot, already.”

That’s not likely, but Matt’s no fool. This is one of those moments Joe always tries to warn him about—a time when Matt needs to prioritize being a good spy over being a good friend. Fact is, he’s in a bind, and Joe is the only person he trusts to help him untangle these particular knots. “I need you to check my deposit box.”

Joe’s neat, military writing scratches through the line. “Which one?”

Another glance toward Townsend. Matt chooses his words carefully, passing along a puzzle only Joe can piece together. “The one with my passport in it.”

Back when Matt still made his living from listening to the Army’s persons of interest list, this was the sort of exchange that made the days run long. He’d spend hours trying to crack the unspoken, unofficial coded messages between rebel leaders and trusted advisors, agents and longtime informants, dealers and buyers with such clean operations that they could understand unknown depths of information after sharing just a few words. It never worked out in his favor, always ending in a plea to send an agent into the field for more insight. Codes like these exist outside of the vast mathematical reliability of ciphers and encryptions, and instead require minuscule context of a person’s day-to-day life. Codes like these don’t make any sense, unless a fella already knows that Matt banks at Washington National, and that he stowed away his honest passport three years ago at Joe’s recommendation, listing the account under Luke Andrews, with Zeke Rozelle as an authorized visitor.

 For Joe, it’ll be a ten minute walk to the train station, then a stroll downtown. For anyone else listening in, it would take weeks to comb through this kind of friendly shorthand, and even that wouldn’t do much. It’s surreal to stand on the other side of his old frustrations now, knowing that he and Joe could probably bring entire governments to a standstill without ever using a full sentence. Matt doesn’t have an Uncle Ben, but the words come to him anyway—with great power…

Joe doesn’t miss a beat. “You’ve got company?”

“Here?” Matt replies. “Always.”

“Friend or foe?”

“Can’t tell yet.”

Joe’s not a fan of this answer, but to be fair, Joe probably wouldn’t have liked any answer except doesn’t matter, already shook him. “Do you need me on a plane?”

“I need you,” Matt insists, “to check my box.”

“Fine,” he says, but there’s a double meaning to it. A not-so-subtle subtext that promises Joe will be on the next flight out if he senses even the slightest reason for it. “I’ll check the box. What am I looking for?”

“Just need you to verify the contents,” Matt tells him. “I’m hearing some chatter and I’m trying to figure out how much truth there is to it.”

This instruction is cryptic enough to keep Townsend’s prying ears out of the core of the conversation, but it does leave Joe in something of a guessing game. Fortunately, Joe’s always been pretty good at guessing, at least when it comes to Matt. “Chatter about your passport?” he says, first try. “What about it?”

Over Matt’s shoulder, Townsend’s newspaper crackles. He’s good. He’s got the timing down just right. Really looks like he’s reading. Matt still doesn’t buy it, and drops his voice even lower. “Rachel’s under the impression that the Soviets are buying identities,” he says. “She thinks mine is among them, but we haven’t been able to prove it yet.”

It’s not a question, when Joe says, “You think someone broke into your box. Stole your passport.”

“Maybe,” says Matt. “Or maybe they took the other one.”

Two passports, each bearing the name Matthew Morgan. One in his deposit box. One on file at Langley. Joe knows the details just as well as Matt does, so they’re just one more conversational shortcut away from the complete realization. “And if Rachel’s right—”

“—and Rachel’s always right—”

“—and if we find a passport in your box…”

Matt nods, even if Joe can’t see him. “Could be a lead.”

The pair of them have been chasing the Circle of Cavan long enough to see its leads come and go, but this one feels different. More direct. For years, Joe was the Circle’s most active agent inside the CIA, and every shred of evidence would lead back to him. An op he ran. A transcript he sold. A legend that never quite made it on the books. But Joe was never working alone, even if he rarely knew who he was working with. It takes more than one man to bring down an organization like the CIA, even if that man is Joe Solomon.

If the right passport has fallen into the wrong hands, this is a chance to put a face to his mysterious partners. To name them, find them, stop them. Static fills the line as Joe considers the news. More TV laughter rolls through the background, eerie and broken. “You told me this mission was Rachel,” he says, in the tone of a man who never would have let Matt go alone, had he known the stakes.

“It is Rachel,” Matt assures him, in the tone of a man who has it all handled, honest. “But it could also be”—he stumbles over eager words, stopping himself before he can say too much in front of present company—“bigger than Rachel.”

“Hold on.” Maybe because he doesn’t believe his ears, Joe temporarily forgoes their underhanded back-and-forth to ask outright, “You think Rachel Cameron is chasing the Circle of Cavan?”

This, admittedly, doesn’t seem quite right, with the way Joe lays it all out. Matt considers this, then finally lands on, “Unknowingly, maybe.”

Joe scoffs. It muffles up the line. “That woman has never done anything unknowingly.”

Matt bites back a smile, small but mighty. “Suppose you’re right about that.”

“Get her out of there, Matt. I’m serious.”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“A lady like Rachel has no business with the Circle.”

“She’s not exactly the kinda person you can just give orders to.”

“She’s going to get herself killed. The only thing more dangerous than going after the Circle on purpose is going after the Circle on accident.”

“What am I supposed to do? Drag her kicking and screaming onto the first plane out of Russia?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

“Doesn’t seem very covert.”

“Look.” It’s one of those weighty, serious looks that Joe only pulls out when he really wants to get his point across. “Covert is the least of your concerns. She’s in this because of you, so you need to be the one to pull her out. She’s looking straight down the barrel and doesn’t even know it. It’s not right.”

Something interrupts the seamlessness of their conversation—a little blip of unrecognizable code that makes the whole thing hard to follow. Matt takes his best shot at cracking this new character in their shared alphabet. “What do you mean, she’s in this because of me?”

Whatever disconnect Matt’s feeling, Joe doesn’t seem to share it. “What do you mean, what do I mean?”

“This is her op,” Matt reminds him. “I didn’t pull her into this. She called me, remember?”

A pause. “Are you pulling my leg?”

“Not a chance,” Matt says. “I pull your leg, and your foot might fall right off.”

“Would you just—my foot is not that bad, okay?”

“What do you mean,” he tries again, “she’s in this because of me?”

There’s no small amount of deliberation on one other end of the line. Joe could fill oceans with all the things he never says, and he’s giving the Atlantic a damn good effort now. “Matt,” he says with a relenting sigh. “Now isn’t a good time to pretend there’s nothing going on between you two.”

Beers at a Williamsburg bar. A bruised jaw in Baltimore. A backless dress at the Bolshoi. Matt’s getting his wires crossed, and now a Joe conversation somehow triggers all of his Rachel shorthand. The years flash through his chest and send a twinge of that pesky and persistent want through every last nerve. “Going on?” he sputters, trying to reel his thoughts back to here and now. “Going on how—going on where? What do you mean, going on?”

“You know.” Joe’s voice gets all caught up in Matt’s flustered beat, and now they’re both off their usual rhythm. “C’mon, don’t—you know. I’m talking about that, I dunno, Sam and Diane thing you’ve got going with her.”

Matt officially doesn't recognize the shape of this conversation. Talking to Joe is always supposed to look and feel the same way, but this is something new. Matt’s not sure he cares for it. “Sam and Diane?” His nose twists up. “Who are you and what have you done with Joe?”

“Oh, lay off,” Joe drones. “NBC stuck a Cheers marathon at the end of the Orioles game, and the remote is on the other side of the room.”

What? “Since when do you watch the Orioles?”

“Since I broke my foot jumping onto a moving train and my buddy left me alone to go chase the Circle, apparently,” he says. “What are you, the TV police?”

“So you admit your foot is broken.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“No, wait, I’m sorry.” He thrashes around for a way to save the conversation, but he feels like a batter who’s just been told to run the bases backward. The best he can do is land back where Joe started and try to hit what’s getting pitched to him. “Sam and Diane. I’m supposed to be Sam?”

“You’re not Diane, are you?”

“Sam Malone is a pitcher.”

“That’s your problem with Sam Malone?” says Joe. “Not that he’s a drunk, and a fool, and a womanizer?”

“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.”

“Okay.” Joe accepts a small defeat in this tangential argument to take another shot at the one he actually cares about. “Well, I can’t tell you how you feel about Rachel—not least because I don’t know how you stand in the same room as that woman without wanting to punch your own lights out. She’s abrasive, and prideful, and she starts fights like she’s got stock in them.”

“Right,” says Matt, because this part of the conversation is straight over home plate. Joe doesn’t like Rachel. Sure. It’s so familiar, Matt could hit it straight out of the park.

“But,” Joe continues, and it’s got all the signs of a curve ball. “I can tell you that there’s no such thing as coincidences, especially not when it comes to Rachel. If she’s wrapped up in Circle dealings, it’s not because she’s going after them. It’s because she’s trying to cover you.”

Swing, and a miss.

It’s the same thing Grace had said, not even a full day earlier. She’s saving your ass, darling. From Grace, it had come at him from the outside, striking the surface of his awareness as something to take note of at some future date. When Joe says it, the sentiment starts at his center and climbs his guts like a cliff side. It’s urgent and suspended, old Circle calluses now shredded with fresh fears.

Of course Rachel is covering him. That’s what Rachel does. She covers Abby. She covers her father. And now she’s covering him, even if she has to do it blindly.

Don’t you care about me?

Of course I do.

Of course you do.

“Dammit,” Matt spits, low and resigned. It’s all Joe needs from him, but he throws in a bonus, “Goddammit,” for good measure. “She’s smarter than this.”

“Or just smart enough,” Joe amends. “For years, she’s been chipping away at you, trying to figure out what we’re up to. Maybe she decided she was better off coming at it from a different angle. It’s kind of impressive.”

“Yeah, well.” There’s a pulse in Matt’s jaw, right where his teeth grind together. “She’s an impressive kinda lady.”

“Get her out of there.”

“I know.”

“Whatever it takes.”

“I know.”

Moscow has never felt so massive. Hours away from any border and even further from a friendly one, the vastness of the USSR stretches out in every direction. It’s one thing to risk his own hide with Circle business in the East. It’s another thing entirely to risk Rachel’s. The danger of it settles like a Russian winter down his spine, and all of a sudden he’s got an urge like he’s never had before, to run, run, run, with her hand clasped in his.

For the very first time, Matt has a top-down view of the complete playing field, while Rachel’s stuck strategizing from the bullpen. She’s too close to it. Too far in. The next call has to be his, and it has to be right. “Listen,” he says to Joe, and now he’s serious too. “Tonight. We were working the op and I saw a friend of yours.”

Matt’s got Townsend at his back. Passports in the bedroom. A redheaded agent who would do anything to get her package back. A plan begins to form in the back of his mind, rough around the edges but strong at its core. He’s got all the leverage he needs to help Joe. To call the Circle off Rachel’s scent. To put the focus back where it should be—on him. Only him. He started this fight, and he won’t have anyone else stepping in to take his punches. 

Joe takes a beat. There’s not a single sound on his end of the line. “I don’t have friends,” he says. “I’ve just got you.”

“The redhead,” Matt goes on. “From Wrigley.”

Now it’s Joe’s turn to let out a soft, “Dammit.”

“Do you have any idea what she’s doing—?”

“No.” He’s just short of a snarl. “This is the opposite of laying low.”

“You told her to lay low?”

“For a little while,” Joe confirms. “She got herself into some hot water a few months back, and she’s had to take some sketchy jobs to get out of it.”

“Yeah, I think I just walked into the middle of one.”

“She’s in Moscow?”

“Joe,” Matt says. “She’s delivering the damn passports.”

In the silence that follows, Matt finds space to wonder about an old question he’s never quite gotten an answer to. He’s always known about this girl—that she’s out there, that she’s working both sides, that she’s one of the few people Joe knows from his days with the Circle. But every time Matt brings her up, even as a possible Circle lead, Joe shuts him down. Waves him off. She’s not a threat, he’d say, and then move on. Matt doesn’t know how much they still work together. Doesn’t even know her name.

“She recognized me,” Matt continues. “Said we were on the same side—”

“You are not on the same side as her.”

“Someone ought to tell her that.”

“Fine.”

If Joe thinks this is the end of this conversation, he’s sorely mistaken. “Joe,” he says, as gently as he can muster. “Have you ever considered that maybe she’s—?”

“She’s not the leak.”

“How do you—?”

“Because I’m the one that leaks everything to her.”

This is the closest thing to background Matt’s ever gotten on the girl, so he keys in and listens up while Joe’s still in a talking mood. “She’s a go-between,” Joe admits. “An agent on the front lines. She’s got two jobs—deliver whatever information I’ve stolen, and don’t get caught. And they don’t tell her a damn thing, just in case she fails that second one.” Matt waits for more to come. After an uncomfortable moment, it does. “The Circle paired us together five years ago. But when I... when we—I started to slow down, and she had to find other work.”

Something clicks in Matt’s mind. “Which could explain why she’s in Moscow.”

“Whatever work she’s doing over there, I don’t know who’s giving it to her.”

“How about we find out?” Matt tries. “Can you get a message to her?”

“You’ve got bigger problems, cowboy.”

“I think I can hit two birds with one stone, on this one.”

If a fella spends enough time listening to phone lines, sooner or later he picks up the ability to hear beyond the background noise, and straight into the core of the call. That’s how Matt hears the hitched apprehension in Joe’s breath, the debate in the static, and the always subtle truth about Joe Solomon—that he wants out of the Circle more than he wants anything else. More than he wants Matt to come home safe. More than he wants Rachel out of Moscow. More than he wants his redheaded partner to lay low.

It’s begrudging, but Joe finally says, “What’s the message?”

Matt passes along a time and a place. In the reflection, Townsend’s eyes flash over the top of his paper, then quickly return to the act of performative reading. That’s fine. Matt’s not stupid enough to meet this girl without backup—the kid’s coming with him.

“And Matt?” Joe says. “Just… take it easy on her. She’s really not a threat.”

As someone who still has a thin, silver scar on his shoulder from where her bullet grazed him, Matt’s inclined to disagree. But he trusts Joe, and Joe trusts her, so maybe that’s enough for now. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, okay.”

“And think about what I said,” he goes on. “About Rachel.”

“Right.” That’s enough of that. “Maybe I’ll call Henry, too. See if he knows anything.”

“About Rachel?”

“About where your friend is finding this extra work.”

“That makes more sense,” says Joe. “Don’t ask Henry about the Rachel thing.”

“Really don’t plan on it,” Matt insists. “Let me know about the deposit box.”

“Already on my way.”

Matt can think of at least a dozen more requests—record the Royals game, pick up some milk, go to a doctor, check on his parents just in case. But the shower isn’t running anymore, Townsend’s reached the end of his pages, and this call was never truly covert to begin with. 

Still, Matt has one more question that he just can’t seem to shake. “Joe?” he says. “What’s her name?”

It takes Joe long enough to answer that Matt wonders if Joe’s already hung up, and he’s talking into dead air. “Her name is Catherine,” he finally says. “Catherine Goode.”

#Full Circle #These boys are the best thing that has ever happened to me #look at how stupid they are together I love them

[bari-the-witch]

Steddie Fic rec PART I

Some of my personal favorites I could read over and over again. You can all find them on AO3:

The shire is NOT on fire by kissesforcas (50k+ words, Rating E)

The kids convince Steve to take them all to a Renaissance Faire and LARP event. Steve has more fun than he admits. And then Steve has a LOT more fun than he admits.

Comment: One of the first Steddie fics I read, love it!

Wouldn't it be nice (if we could wake up) by kissesfarcas (100k+ words, Rating E)

Steve finds his pulse. He carries Eddie out of the Upside Down, he keeps his heart beating until they get to the hospital. And then the government intervenes, that shady part of the government? With Sullivan? And he and Eddie wind up locked up, together, in a cell. There's one bed, and glass walls, and it turns out that he and Eddie? Might need each other more than either of them thought they might.

Comment: It's Kas Eddie, what more can I say?

this is what fallin in love feels like by plutoelegies (50k+ words, Rating M)

“For the sleeping thing- I get it. I really do. So you’re gonna get in my car and you’re gonna sleep in my guest room until you look more like a person and less like a Night of the Living Dead character.” Steve said, a tone of finality in his voice.

“Steve, man, I couldn’t ask you to do that.” Eddie said.

“Good thing you’re not asking. This is what we do, we take care of each other. Because if we don’t, nobody else will.” Steve said.

Or: Eddie has nightmares, Steve has a sexuality crisis, and while they’re busy co-parenting some freshman kids, their unlikely friendship begins to turn into something more.

Comment: Season 4 Fix-it with nightmares and a good old-fashioned sexuality crisis

The Adventures of Eddie Munson, Cheerleader by bookworm1805 (20k+, Rating E)

The moment the basketball players walked into the gym, all hell broke loose. 

Curses were spat. Teenagers whispered in scandalized tones as their nikes squeaked over the polished wood floor. Prayers were chanted. Somewhere across town, a baby probably cried.

Eddie Munson grinned. 

or

Eddie borrows Chrissy Cunningham’s spare cheerleading uniform as a prank. The ensuing chaos tips his entire world on its head, for the better.

Comment: This is so funny (and hot!)

Steve Harrington's Guide to Planning a Party (Without Blowing Up) by Anonymous (80k+ words, Rating T)

In a way, Steve was kind of grateful for the swift intervention. He knew now, after all, that most people in the world didn't have the ability to pick out people's emotions, and in a town like Hawkins he wouldn't have lasted long if he commented on every feeling he encountered. It was the reason why despite everything, he had turned out normal, despite all of life's attempts to turn him into something other than a popular somewhat dim-witted jock.

Comment: I'm a sucker for Steve has Powers! It's so so good and well-written.

Must Have/Can't Stand Checklist by deludez3 (60k+ words, Rating E)

Steve decides to move to Chicago for a fresh start after everything is settled with Vecna. Three years later, he returns to Hawkins for the kids’ graduation and rekindles some feelings he discovered years earlier for Eddie.

When Eddie offers his apartment for Steve to crash at to stay longer in Hawkins, Steve can’t say no. Sure he was supposed to drive home on Sunday, and sure he was supposed to work that week, but how could he say no to those chocolate button eyes?

Comment: Eddie and Steve become temporary roomates - hot shenanigans ensue.

someone else's favorite song by fastcardotmp3 (100k+ words, Rating E)

“Not sick, not sick,” he slurs, and Eddie wants to see his face, wants to hold it in his hands, wants to look him in the eye when he says, “just sad. Sad. Fuck… fuck, sad.”

“Why are you sad, big guy?” Eddie asks.

Steve laughs again, but it’s sharper this time, it doesn’t last as long, because as soon as the words slip out of his mouth— “My mom’s dead—”

—it walks that treacherous line between the two sounds and morphs straight to a broken sort of sobbing that reaches directly into Eddie’s chest and drags out his heart.

- A friends-with-benefits relationship goes complicated when who Steve and Eddie are to one another shifts with the coming of a new sort of tragedy.

Comment: This is the best piece of Steddie fanfic I've read out there, I swear. MUST READ

Sanctuary by SpicedSage (40k+ words, Rating E)

After Steve Harrington goes missing, Eddie Munson gets exposed to the secret dangers of Hawkins, Indiana in 1985 instead of 1986.

Will a different first meeting lead to a change in his fate?

Comment: Eddie helps Steve after he got captured by the Russians post Season 3, the characterization is so so good in this one.

More will follow :)

#steddie fic #steddie fic rec #steddie

[pamela-lntt]

please ramble to your heart's content on spiderbit and orpheus eurydice

Sorry for the late reply, I needed to get home first before I could properly write this all out xd

First of all, I wanna preface this by pointing out that this whole ramble will be based on putting qCellbit and qRoier in the position of musical Orpheus and Eurydice (to be more specific, the Broadway version of Hadestown since the character's personalities do vary on every album) and I've been a HUGE fan of Hadestown for years now (my first introduction to this musical was the live album, I heard it for the first time while at the airport but that's besides the point) and I connect basically anything I like to it in some way so I've given this a lot of thought and love.

Ramble under the "read more", I can't promise to be short:

Alright so, the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, as told through the musical, in short is: The seasons are off-balanced making summers short and winters long due to Hades and Persephone having a rocky marriage, Eurydice arrives to wherever Orpheus lives in search of warmth from the winter, Orpheus and Eurydice fall in love, Eurydice makes a deal with Hades in exchange for protection from the harsh weather aka she dies, Orpheus travels to Hadestown by foot instead of taking the train like others would to get Eurydice back, Orpheus convinces Persephone and the Workers to hear him out which leads to Hades hearing him out, Hades and Persephone's love gets re-ignited by Orpheus' song, Hades lets them leave with the condition that Orpheus can't look behind him to see Eurydice is coming with or else she'll stay in Hadestown, Doubt comes in and Orpheus turns around.

With just the plot in mind, people would immediately jump to qCellbit as Eurydice and qRoier as Orpheus because of what happened at the end of Purgatory (qCellbit staying on the island), but I see it as the other way around especially when taking into account Orpheus and Eurydice's backstories, personalities, and train-of-thoughts, in other words, why they chose to do what they did.

I'll justify both of them separately and at the end I'll weave them together on a nice little conclusion

qRoier as Eurydice

I'll start with qRoier since I'm more familiar with his character because I watch Roier's streams a lot.

Eurydice in the musical is introduced as "a lonely girl coming in from the cold" and her whole character has an emphasis on loneliness being a prominent constant in her life before meeting Orpheus alongside always being followed by The Fates (which is a more poetic way to say she is always on the brink of death due to her nomad lifestyle). I see qRoier as a survivalist, which is my way of saying that if he lived in this universe (the Hadestown universe) he'd definitely take a similar approach of survival as Eurydice especially if qSpreen and qQuackity's betrayal also occurs in this storyline: "People turn on you just like the wind / Everybody is a fair-weather friend / In the end you're better off alone / Any way the wind goes"

When it comes to meeting Orpheus, at first she jokes with him due to how upfront he was on proposing to her the moment they met, but ends up being wooed by him with the help of Hermes wing-manning a bit and Orpheus' song alongside Orpheus' positivity of the world and devotion to her. I'm positive qCellbit wouldn't have as much positivity as Orpheus does, but the devotion and the song is still there and the song was what sealed the deal for Eurydice because she was impressed and captivated by how a simple melody could create a flower out of thin air. Whenever I hear Eurydice's jokes in the song Come Home With Me I can totally see qRoier making the same jokes and playing along just like Eurydice did in Wedding Song.

Jumping ahead to Eurydice's decision to take Hades offer of going to the underworld, Eurydice has faith in Orpheus, faith that he'll finish the song and spring will indeed come again, but they still need to survive the winter. qRoier has faith on qCellbit, always has, even before they got married: "I can give you time, man, no worries. I can trust you, 100%, man." But, as the Fates say "You can have your principles when you've got a belly full / But hunger has a way with you / There's no telling what you're gonna do when the chips are down"

I'll talk about the rest of the story soon...

qCellbit as Orpheus

Like I mentioned before, I am positive that qCellbit doesn't have the same positivity Orpheus has, but the devotion is still there. He was the one who proposed to qRoier (thanks to some nudging from Richarlyson) and constantly brings up they are married. I'd even take into consideration that one clip of Cellbit telling Richarlyson that it was obvious they would get married by day 2 of them knowing each other, like Orpheus sings: "I don't know how or why / Or who am I that I should get to hold you / But when I saw you all alone against the sky / It's like I’d known you all along" Even his wedding vows are similar in meaning to something Orpheus sings to Eurydice: "I'm gonna hold you forever / The wind will never change on us / Long as we stay with each other" and both qRoier and qCellbit would 100% go to the ends of the Earth for each other.

But just like Orpheus, qCellbit can get engulfed in his work and not notice the things happening around him: "[...] Poor boy working on a song / [...] He did not see the storm coming on" which was ultimately what led to Eurydice's death, Orpheus was too preoccupied trying to finish his song that he didn't hear Eurydice's cry for help. And yet, if qCellbit found out qRoier was in trouble?: "Just how far would you go for her? | To the end of time / To the end of the earth" + " [...] But that ain't easy walkin', Jack / It ain't for the sensitive of soul / So do you really wanna go? | With all my heart"

I'd even consider Orpheus' ability to get Persephone and the Workers on his side something qCellbit is fully capable of doing as well, especially with the knowledge that in Quesadilla Island he's a pretty respected person due to his determination of taking down the Federation and leadership in The Order, a mindset similar to that of Orpheus towards Hades and his industrial empire: "And the ones who speak the words / Always say it is the last / And no answer will be heard / To the question no one asks / So I'm askin' if it's true / I'm askin' me and you / And you / And you / I believe our answer matters more than anything they say"

qCellbit & qRoier as Orpheus & Eurydice

From now on I'll focus more than anything on Orpheus and Eurydice's trip out of Hadestown and it's conclusion and how it fits with the actions qCellbit and qRoier would take in their respective roles.

Just like I've mentioned that qRoier has a deep trust and faith on qCellbit, qCellbit does as well on qRoier, but qCellbit knows he himself is flawed, something he got reinforced with the whole situation with killing Abueloier and how everything went downhill between them after that only for them to pick up the pieces and try again. qCellbit told qRoier about his past, and qRoier accepted it and didn't love him any less for it and reassured qCellbit about it (even supporting him on his hunt for the Federation workers).

But, anyone would question if their lover trusts them the same way after betraying them, in a way. qCellbit, just like Orpheus, was unable to come to their lover's need which led to their death and they can't be sure if their lover even wants to go back with them after that. However, of course qRoier and Eurydice want to go back, their trust didn't waiver because they came looking for them, they came to get them back: "Are you sure you wanna go? | Take me home."

Nevertheless, that doesn't stop doubt from creeping in from the corners: "Every coward seems courageous in the safety of a crowd / Bravery can be contagious when the band is playing loud / Nothing makes a man so bold / As a woman's smile and a hand to hold / But all alone his blood runs thin / And doubt comes- doubt comes in"

qCellbit, just like Orpheus, would start questioning whether this is true, if the literal god of Hell actually allowed them to leave or if it's simply a trap, it's in his nature to question, after all: "Who am I? / Who am I against him? / Who am I? / Why would he let me win? / Why would he let her go? / Who am I to think that he wouldn't deceive me just to make me leave alone?" + "Is this a trap that's bein' laid for me? / Is this a trick that's bein' played on me?" And within that questioning would resurface the uncertainty of qRoier and Eurydice's trust towards them: "Who am I? / Where do I think I'm goin'? / Who am I? / Why am I all alone? / Who do I think I am? / Who am I to think that she would follow me into the cold and dark again?"

Meanwhile qRoier and Eurydice are right behind: "Orpheus / Are you listening? / I am right here / And I will be to the end" + "Orpheus / You are not alone / I am right behind you / And I have been all along"

In the end, qCellbit and Orpheus turn around, and lose qRoier and Eurydice forever, but qRoier and Eurydice's love for them never faltered.

"Think they'll make it?"

"I don't know"

"Hades, you let them go"

"I let them try"

(I hope this makes sense I tried to not write too much / ramble about Hadestown itself but I have a lot of feelings for this musical aaah)

#im vibrating while writing this down ive thought about this since they got married but never really spoke about it #i also have in mind the roles of Hades and Persephone but that's for another day #Hermes and the Fates are still up in the air for me but i've got some contenders #pam.rambles #qsmp #spiderbit #guapoduo #qsmp cellbit #qcellbit #q!cellbit #qsmp roier #qroier #q!roier #q cellbit #q roier #it is 12 am i started writing at around 10 pm lmaooo #feelings feelings