#but also like am i seriously the only person who thinks that that argument is fucked up?????

[lord-squiggletits]

"Rodimus is a better Prime because it didn't hurt for him to bond with the Matrix while for Optimus it did" headcanon/theory my beloathed.

One day I'm literally gonna snap and make a whole post addressing why what's wrong bc I'm tired of the inaccuracy and tired of ppl not understanding the Point TM of IDW and its version of the Matrix/Primacy and even more tired of people putting down Optimus in favor of Rodimus by essentially arguing that being unworthy means you deserve to be punished/put in pain bc you just weren't good enough to hold the Symbol of Ultimate Authority

#it's wrong on so many levels both in terms of lore and as well as like what the general themes of idw1 are #it's just a validation contest using the matrix as some magical symbol to decide who's the most special #which is ironically something that was a plot point in exrid/OP. specifically how stupid of an idea that is ldskjflksd #ppl revealing that they havent read anything besides mtmte/ll as usual #like half the reason ppl think optimus is a bad prime and rodimus is a good prime is literally bc like #optimus was written by an author who was specifically trying to deconstruct him (sometimes to the point of absurdity) #and rodimus was written by an author who takes a more optimistic/idealistic approach. and is also better at writing #but also like am i seriously the only person who thinks that that argument is fucked up????? #like 'OP felt pain which means he's unworthy/not a real prime/not a true leader' #ok so you think that there's a hierarchy of moral goodness in which anyone who falls short of that Moral Ideal should suffer #as a sign of their unworthiness?? like does that not sound dystopian as hell to any of you?? why would you WANT the matrix to work like tha #even if the theory were true (which it isn't) why would you view the matrix as a good authoritative moral judge of character #if its idea of 'moral judgement' is to inflict pain on anyone who's supposedly not truly good/worthy #wasn't the entire point of the ending of LL (including rodimus being a good leader) that everyone is worth it? #like rodimus literally said 'you ARE damn well good enough' or something like that #so what? everyone else in the universe tries their best and that's enough but somehow when OP suffers it's like #a sign that he's not actually a good prime/leader?? we're really going with the punitive perspective purely for One Guy?? #swear to god ppl are projecting their authority issues onto Optimus the way they shit on him for things they would excuse #if any other character did it #Optimus is uniquely deserving of pain/being marked as unworthy bc idk he was a cop once and that offends my delicate sensibilities #what's even funnier is how much harm was inflicted by rodimus as a captain sheerly due to his stupidity or ego but everyone forgives him #i guess bc as long as the matrix likes him that means he's valid no matter what he actually does as a person #WHICH IS SOMETHING IDW ITSELF ARGUED AGAINST BC A LOT OF THE PRIMES THAT WERE CHOSEN BY THE MATRIX #WERE DICKS AND THE FACT THEY COULD WIELD THE MATRIX DIDN'T MAKE THEM GOOD PEOPLE #like oh my god stop using the matrix as an arbiter of moral authority in idw1 it literally goes against the themes of the story #including the themes that are embodied in rodimus himself #idw op love

[ridleymocki]

(seeing so many bad faith interpretations of the argument, y'all are really going to make me do this, okay HERE WE GO)

.................................

What Ed says: "I think last night was a mistake. I'm not ready for... Whatever this is."

What Ed means: "I didn't want last night to happen so soon or under those circumstances. Things are changing rapidly, which makes me feel out of control and scared."

What Stede hears: "I regret sleeping with you. I don't want the sort of relationship that you're after."

.................................

What Stede says: "It was a fine fish. It was... whatever. I was just trying to make you feel good!"

What Stede means: "I only cared about the fish because you cared about it, and I care about you. I liked the fish because it made you happy. Ordinarily, I'm ambivalent about fish."

What Ed hears: "I lied to you. I didn't care about your achievement I was just placating you to get what I wanted."

.................................

What Ed says: "Here's the news: I'm leaving. I got a job on a little fishing boat and I'm leaving. I'm a fisherman now."

What Ed means: "I think I need to be away from you to figure out who I am, because I haven't been able to do that while we're together, and your lifestyle now is the life I'm trying to leave behind."

What Stede hears: "I've made a decision to leave you and have a life without you. I don't value what we have enough to work with you to find a solution, I'd prefer to end it."

.................................

What Stede says: "Oh, Ed. Seriously? You're not a fisherman."

What Stede means: "I think you're using this plan to escape and avoid your problems. It sounds like you're pretending to be someone else. It seems to me like an impulsive decision and I am concerned."

What Ed hears: "I don't support this ambition. I think you're incapable. I don't think you can be different from what you have always been."

.................................

This is the kind of analysis done in therapeutic environments. When I put what they mean, it's not just a rephrasing but a boiling down to the core issue. I could go on to the rest of the dialogue but do you see the continuing ship-in-the-night miscommunication?? It's tripartite:

failing to express one's current emotional reality with the most accurate and clear language, often because that reality is not fully understood to oneself,

misinterpreting the other's language, due to preexisting sensitivities and defensiveness about one's own understanding of the situation,

increasing frustration and sense of personal attack that results from those misinterpretations, which perpetuates and worsens the poor communication.

Importantly, this kind of pattern means you miss the best and most important kernels of communication in an exchange because you're reacting to the more inflammatory parts.

Stede: "This can be whatever we want it to be." (I am willing to make changes to our arrangement so that you're happy). Ed: "I don't even know who I am! Alright? I know I don't want to be a pirate. And you, you're blowing up, you're the toast of the town." (I think we want different things. You're just starting a journey that I've already finished).

With those two bits alone they could've sorted this out. The first is the answer to the second. But they didn't -- couldn't -- latch onto it because all their other baggage was getting in the way.

And I'm being proven correct that this is what is happening, because I have seen next to nothing on here about the above two lines, only reactionary takes of fans also focusing on the inflammatory parts because of their predispositions. You're doing an encore performance of what they're doing.

Point being, there are no bad guys in this scene, just repeated system failure!

#our flag means death #ofmd s2 spoilers #blackbonnet #ofmd #edward teach #stede bonnet #ofmd spoilers #ofmd s2 #ofmd season 2 #our flag means death s2 #ofmd meta #something something cracking up on the rocks #cocktail name? my mental state? who knows!

[harrysmmm]

𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒎, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 | 𝒅.𝒎

Draco Malfoy x Y/N (f!reader)

Setting: Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince

Summary: where Draco has had a crush on you since forever, but you were dating Harry, until you two break up.

A/N: I wrote this in a day. Hope you like it! I might make a part two if you want it :) happy reading!

W/C: 4.6K

masterlist here

“But I am in love with you Y/N!”

“We’re always fighting Harry; it’s actually getting too much at this point.”

You and Harry had been dating since fourth year, when he asked you to the Yull Ball, but you’d had a crush on each other since you met. However, since fifth year, when the Order of the Phoenix was created within Hogwarts and Harry became more dedicated to Voldemort’s pursue, things had gotten out of hand between you two. You were constantly getting into arguments – Harry not communicating anything with you and you having to rip the thoughts out of him. You felt like you came as Harry’s last priority and although you had much love for him, you were sick of the ongoing difficult tension between the two of you.

“It’s not because we fight a lot that it means I don’t love you, Y/N,” Harry exclaimed.

You were both in Harry’s dorm, everyone having dinner at the Great Hall.

“But it does Harry, it does!” you added. “I understand you’re going through a lot but you’re always rude towards me, you don’t talk to me about anything that is going on and you expect me to know what to say to you, what to do all the goddamn time, I’m done!”

“Fine! We’re done then! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed – you know where to find the door,” he said getting in bed as if you weren’t standing there.

“You’re unbelievable. Good fucking night.” You slammed the door behind you and left to your dorm.

You spent the night crying under the sheets – heartbroken by the person you had loved the most.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Y/N the Sopophorus bean shouldn’t be added now,” Hermione told you.

“Huh?” You were too distracted with glancing at Harry that Potions’ class was put on the background.

“Okay, that’s it, you need to stop looking at Harry. In fact, you need to stop everything that includes Harry,” she snapped at you.

You didn’t say anything because you knew it was true.

“It has been a month since you broke up, Y/N. And fine, Ron and I can deal with you both not talking to each other but you need to seriously start moving on.”

“Okay, okay, no need of a lecture.”

“What’s gotten into you today? You’re looking at him more than usual.” Hermione looked at Harry who was also looking at their direction. “And he’s looking at you more than usual.”

“It’s not the time, Hermione. I think Draco can hear us,” you whispered. Draco was always sitting behind you two.

“He’s focused on the potion, he’s not listening. Tell me,” Hermione said, seeing Draco carefully stirring the potion.

“Well, I don’t know if he’s told you, but I know he’s dating someone. I saw them both making out by the lake yesterday.”

Hermione didn’t know what to say.

“But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is who he’s dating,” you continued.

“Who?” Hermione asked, very shocked by the turn of events.

You stared at her before saying it. “Ginny.”

Hermione didn’t say a word, speechless about the confession.

“Yep,” you simply said, going back to the potion in front of you both.

It was a wild twist in the story because Ginny, Hermione and you were very close, and Ginny had been one of the girls that had comforted you since the breakup. The moment you saw both of them snogging you felt like something died within you. Not only because it clearly stated that Harry had moved on from you, but also that one of your best friends had been lying and pretending in front of you for no one knew how long. You hadn’t talked to Ginny and the tension between you and Harry had majorly grown since.

Hermione and you continued to work on the potion, unaware of the fact that Draco had heard every single word of the conversation.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Draco had been in love with you since he set foot at Hogwarts. Long before he knew what love meant and how it felt, he had tried to impress you indirectly, by flying up to the sky with Neville’s personal belongings, by applying for Quidditch’ seeker position, by walking up to Hagrid’s hippogriff and trying to ride it, by facing up Potter when he became a Triwizard champion and had asked you to the Yull Ball and by applying to Umbridge’s little inquisitory group to try and dismantle the order. He did all that for you, and although you were totally unaware of the boy’s feelings, he didn’t know of any other way to get to you. In his mind, you were absolutely unreachable. He was aware of how other boys in class talked about you – because needless to say, you had been categorized as the prettiest girl in class. Draco’s enmity with Harry had developed because of Draco’s jealousy on your relationship with him. You had been a close friend of the chosen one since first year, and even Professors had always thought that you two would make a lovely couple. Draco had had to bear the flirtatious looks of you and Harry during class; how you would clap at him when he was about to catch the snitch during a match; how you would kiss him at the Great Hall during breakfast; how you would both giggle together running through the hallways of the castle; how you would become very worried when Harry was told to face detention by Umbridge. But even if Draco knew that he didn’t really exist for you despite of all his acts, he couldn’t forget about you because you were the only light that he felt he had in his life. The thought of you loving him one day was what kept him living each day that went by. He would constantly daydream about you before bed, during class, in the Slytherin common room, during lunch – he was just so enamored by you. However, deep down he felt like he didn’t deserve you, that was the ultimate reason to why he had never approached you. And all his jealousy, fury and sadness tended to be projected onto Potter, the boy that had conquered your heart.

He had overheard your conversation with Hermione during Potions. He had seen your light diminish since the breakup but the day you had told Hermione you had caught Harry with Ginny, he had seen you at your worst. He couldn’t comprehend how Potter had treated you so poorly during the last year of your relationship and how he could’ve gone behind your back kissing the Weasley girl. He felt so protective over you he decided to confront Harry by the lake, where he knew he could find him snogging with Ginny.

“Potter and a Weasley. Pathetic. Does your brother know about this, red-hair?”

“Malfoy, get the fuck out of here,” said Harry, looking for his wand in his pocket.

“You,” he talked to Ginny. “You should be ashamed of how pathetic you are as a friend. Does Y/L/N know about this?”

Ginny didn’t respond knowing he was right.

“That’s it, septum-” Harry started saying, being interrupted by Draco.

“Expelliermus!” Draco unarmed Harry.

Harry approached Draco and they both started to fight with each other physically. Draco punched Harry on the nose but before he could leave Harry kicked Draco, the latter falling on the ground.

They didn’t stop until they were both incapable of getting up.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Will you stop eating?!” asked Hermione to Ron, hitting him with a book. “Your best friend is missing!”

“Oi! Turn around, you lunatic” said Ron, seeing Harry enter the Great Hall.

He sat down in front of Hermione with a bleeding nose and bleeding wounds everywhere.

“Where have you been?” asked Hermione.

“Nowhere,” replied Harry.

You were sitting down a few seats away from the scene, wondering what in the world had happened to Harry. The answer was revealed when a certain bleached one entered the Great Hall, also bleeding.

“What happened Harry? Did you fight with Malfoy?” asked Hermione, having seen the blonde’s entrance.

“He was looking for it,” replied Harry.

Hermione looked over at you worried. You shrugged your shoulders in response. Hermione looked back at Harry.

“Harry, you should report this to Professor McGonagall.”

Harry didn’t reply and kept eating. Hermione looked back at you worried. You mouthed to her “I got this”. You thought Malfoy’s rivalry with Harry had cooled down that year but based on what had happened that afternoon you were worried it had something to do with the conversation you had had with Hermione during Potions’ class, even if you didn’t know why.

Dinner ended and students started to periodically get up from their seats and head towards their common rooms. You waited until Draco got up and followed him through the hallways. When no one was with you two, you called him.

“Malfoy!”

He turned around and looked at you, only to look away and keep walking.

You ran up to him.

“I want to talk to you,” you said.

“Why?” he replied, still not looking at you and walking straight.

“Can we stop for a second and talk? I can’t keep up your pace.”

He stopped and looked at you annoyed.

“What?” he repeated.

“I know you got into a fight with Harry.”

He rolled his eyes and kept walking.

“What happened, exactly?” you asked, running after him.

He didn’t reply.

“Draco!”

He stopped when you said his name.

“Why do you wanna know, Y/L/N?”

“I know you two were leaving each other alone until today. I wanna know why you fought.”

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore. We don’t talk.”

“That’s not my fucking problem,” he replied.

“Did you hear anything I told Hermione during Potions?”

Draco startled but tried to hide it. You still noticed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied.

“Then why did you two fight?”

“I’m getting bored of this conversation already.” He kept walking.

“Fine, just so you know, if you did it for what I said during Potions class, that was not the way to go,” you said, still standing up. He kept walking. “But thank you nonetheless.”

He kept walking, still having heard your words. A smirk got on his face as he walked towards his common room.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

A week later, you were eating in the Great Hall with Hermione.

“Have you already confronted Ginny about the whole thing?” Hermione asked you.

“No, not yet, have you?”

“Of course not, I don’t wanna get mingled,” she replied.

You looked up and saw Draco walking through the corridor. His eyes met yours as he sat down for lunch.

“How could Harry be so insensitive? And how come Ginny never talked to you before anything happened?” Hermione was still ranting about it – your gaze was still on Draco, as was his.

You didn’t know what had exactly changed since the day you talked to him but suddenly his eyes were speaking to you and you found yourself intrigued by his presence.

He looked away from you and focused on what his friend was telling him.

You engaged in conversation with Hermione.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

You were studying for a Transfiguration test out on the grass field. You were trying to turn a cup into a flower but the more you tried, the less it seemed to work. You knew that you needed to have a calmed mind in order to work but you couldn’t stop overthinking Harry’s thing with Ginny and your encounter with Malfoy.

In the distance, you saw Draco walking down gripping on some books. He saw you studying but quickly looked away. You debated in your head whether you should go up to him but you thought you’d look stupid without having anything to say, so you decided not to.

You noticed another boy was also looking at you. He came towards you.

“Hi, Y/N” Harry said.

“Hey, Harry” you replied, without looking at him.

“Hum… I just came to apologize,” he mumbled.

“For what?” you asked.

“You know for what,” he replied.

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Harry. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to study.”

“Always making things so difficult, I’m trying to do the right thing here,” he finally said, getting pissed.

“Are you though? Because as far as I know the right thing had to be done months ago, now it’s not the time Harry!”

“You don’t know what I’ve had to bear with-”

“You never bothered to share it with me in the first place!”

“It’s not that simple Y/N.”

“Nothing is ever simple with you Harry.”

“Hasn’t she told you to go, Potter?” Draco appeared behind Harry.

Harry turned around. “What do you want, Malfoy?”

“I have a pending conversation with Y/L/N. Besides, this is not your yard, scar head.”

“Whatever,” Harry looked back at you. “Enjoy your time with Malfoy.” He left.

“What was that for?” you asked Draco.

“He was being a git, can’t bare it.”

You stayed in silence and looked at his books. “You wanna… perhaps… study with me?”

He looked at you for a few seconds. “I’m good.” He also left.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It was one a.m. at night – you couldn’t sleep, your mind going back to different moments of the last few months. You decided to get up and head to the kitchen. You had befriended some of the elves and as they were cleaning up maybe they could give you a cup of hot milk. You went down the stairs, exited the common room and walked through the hallways. While you were walking, someone carrying a torch approached you.

“What are you doing here?” Malfoy was standing in front of you.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you replied, still bothered he ditched you the other day.

“I am patrolling. I am a prefect,” he replied.

Right. You had forgotten about that. “I was just going to get a glass of milk.”

“Where?”

“To the kitchen,” you simply replied.

“Students don’t go to the kitchen. Especially at this time of the night,” Draco said, with disgust on his face.

“Draco, I just want a glass of milk. I can’t sleep,” you tried to convince him.

“You’re not going to the kitchen, Y/L/N,” he directly said. “Don’t make me give you detention.”

“Fine,” you replied, turning around. “Thanks for your help, Malfoy.”

“Anytime Y/L/N,” he replied.

When you had left his sight, you turned to another corridor that also led to the kitchen. You were going down the stairs when suddenly you heard a voice behind you.

“Do you think I’m stupid or what?” Draco snapped at you.

“I’m going to bed!” you lied.

“That’s not the way to your bed, Y/N/L, unless you’re sleeping in the Slytherin dorms – which you’re not.”

“Who says I’m not?” you teased.

Draco looked at you being fed up.

“You’re not a Slytherin.”

“That doesn’t matter. I can still sleep there.”

“Where exactly?”

“That’s none of your business,” you replied.

“It is because you’re lurking in the hallway at one fucking a.m. in the morning!”

“You told me to go to bed, I’m going to bed!” you replied, slightly having fun with the conversation.

“That’s not the way to your bed!”

“I’m sleeping with someone!”

“Who?” he asked.

“A Slytherin,” you replied.

“Who?” he repeated.

“You don’t know him.”

“Oh, I can assure you if he’s a Slytherin I do know him.”

“His name is Tom.” You couldn’t think of any other name.

“Well, either way, I’m not letting you go sleep in someone else’s room.”

“But I won’t tell, I swear.”

“You just want your glass of milk and you’ve made up a whole story to convince me,” he ended up saying.

“Please Draco, I’m really thirsty.”

He sighed. “I am going with you then. If you get on my nerves I’m calling Snape, Y/L/N. And don’t lie to me again,” he finally said, giving up.

“Thank you Draco, really appreciate it.”

He went down the stairs with you, and headed towards the kitchen. The elves had already left.

“Alright, go grab the milk and we go,” he said, leaning over the counter.

You started looking for the milk in different cupboards until you found it. You grabbed a cup and poured yourself some milk.

“Don’t you have to patrol with Pansy?” you asked him.

“Why are you asking questions?”

“I’m curious. I thought you had to patrol with another prefect,” you replied.

“Well yeah, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be the one in the same house as you. I’m patrolling with Weasley tonight but each of us go our separate ways.”

“I didn’t know Ron was patrolling tonight,” you added, realizing how long it had been since you had talked to Ron after the incident with Harry.

“I assume you’re still not talking to Potter,” he added.

“Nope. Not missing it either.”

“I have to ask, how is that you dated him? What did you see in him?” Well, that was an interesting question coming from Malfoy. “I can’t imagine dating someone like Potter, what a twat.”

“Well, I fell in love, I guess. I mean, he’s good looking, brave, passionate-”

Draco laughed. “Pff, sure thing.”

“And why is that you two hate each other so much?” you asked him in return.

“He’s always going around as if the world belongs to him for being the chosen one.”

“Don’t you do the same though?” you asked.

He startled. “No, I’m the one who puts him on his place.”

“He could say the same about you,” you added.

“What are you guys talking about?” Ron appeared in the kitchen. “I heard some noises, I thought they were first years out of bed.”

“Just came down to the kitchen to give Y/L/N some milk, she couldn’t sleep.”

“Since when do you do that for anyone, Malfoy?” asked Ron.

“I’ll suggest you keep your mouth shut, Weaslebee,” he replied.

“Well, I’m done here guys, so if you’ll excuse me I’ll go to bed now.”

“Go with her, I don’t trust her a bit,” Draco said to Ron.

“Good night Draco,” you said to him before leaving.

“Whatever,” he replied.

Once you were out of sight, he let himself relax again. Even if he showed the opposite, that had been one the best moments he had experienced in at least the last year.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It was Christmas break, you were in the Hogwarts Express to go back home. You were sitting in a wagon with Hermione talking to you about the past exams but all you could think about was Draco. You were constantly replaying in your mind what happened in the hallways at night when you two bumped into each other and you were slightly convinced he also had a crush on you by the way he acted. The urge to see him was so intense that you told Hermione you were going to buy something to eat and left the wagon.

You went to the Slytherin wagon and found him sitting down with Blaise and Pansy, two of his friends. You walked through the corridor to the other side of the wagon, peripherally having a look at him. You noticed he was also looking at you.

“This is not your wagon, Gryffindork” Pansy told you as you were passing.

“I’m just passing through,” you replied.

“Right.”

You hoped that Draco would say something but nothing came out of his mouth. You turned back and left the wagon.

What a prick. After all, he was still a pureblood Slytherin, and one of the worst kind, what were you thinking?

You went back to your wagon.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It was the day that students came back from Christmas break to Hogwarts. You had spent a lovely holiday with your family and you felt ready to face whatever was about to happen. Whatever except for what happened.

“Y/N, I miss you.” Harry was standing in front of you in the hallway.

“What?” you replied.

“I’ve been giving our situation some thought and realized I acted as a prick with you and wanted to amend things.”

“Aren’t you with Ginny?”

“We haven’t talked during the break,” he replied.

“Well, I’m not some kind of rebound, Harry.”

“No, of course not. That’s not what I meant.”

“Besides, I like someone else now.” It was painful to say but it was true. You were over the hills for a certain blonde.

“Who?” he asked.

“It’s none of your business, Harry.”

“Y/N, we can work it out.”

“No, we can’t. We’re done Harry, you need to move on.”

He stood up as you left. The whole situation had given you a sense of control that had made you feeling unstoppable. You felt this urge of confessing, for some odd reason. It had felt to so good to state out loud what you felt for Draco that now the only person that was left to tell was him. You didn’t really think of what his reaction could be, you just wanted to spread the word to him.

You roamed in the hallways looking for his face until minutes later you spotted him with Blaise and Pansy. You walked up to him.

“Malfoy.”

Pansy and Blaise, as well as Draco, looked surprise.

“What?” he replied.

“Can I talk to you, in private?” Blaise and Pansy looked at each other, confused.

Draco just sighed and stood up – both of you going to a quieter and more intimate place.

“What’s going on Y/L/N?” he asked you.

“Okay, so I’m about to say something to you. I don’t know how you’re going to feel about it, but I’m still taking the risk. Trust me, this comes as a surprise to me as well as it will come to you.”

“Alright,” he replied. “What is it?”

You sighed, your heartbeat being all over the moon.

“I like you, Draco.”

“What?” he said.

“I like you.”

“I heard you, but what does that mean?”

You started to feel the regret coming.

“I might have a crush on you.”

“You have a crush on me?” he repeated.

“That’s what I said, yep.”

“Alright.”

You stood in silence. “Alright?”

“Yeah, what do you expect me to say?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“Well, thank you for telling me. I’m going then.”

“Okay, see you.”

“Bye.”

You stood up there not understanding what had just happened.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

A month went by and you hadn’t talked to Draco again. You felt so ashamed about confessing to him that you had tried to avoid him at any cost. He had left you so pathetically that you couldn’t bare the thought of him knowing what you felt. It was eating you inside. You hadn’t told Hermione about the situation. Instead, you might’ve agreed on going out with Harry again. You just needed to show Draco (and yourself) that you weren’t desperately crying in a corner about what happened.

You started then dating Harry again.

You were walking down a hallway when you found yourself facing Draco. You looked down hoping to avoid him.

“Y/L/N,” he said to you.

“What?”

“Hadn’t seen you in a while, where have you been?”

“Around,” you replied.

“I’ve seen you’ve got back with scarhead.”

“Yeah.”

“I thought that was over for you.”

“Well, it’s clearly not,” you replied.

“Good,” he said.

You wanted to die at that exact moment. “Goodbye Malfoy.”

You left withholding some tears.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It had been two months since the last time you had spoken to Draco. You were still dating Harry, trying to go back to how it used to be but things had profoundly changed within you. Your heart belonged to someone else.

You had gone to Hogsmeade to clear your thoughts. You were walking around the different stores and pubs until you saw Draco talking to Pansy in front of the Three Broomsticks. Something pounded in your heart when you saw how close they were. He saw you walking but didn’t engage in conversation.

An hour later you were tired of walking around and you were going back to the castle until someone stop you halfway.

“Y/L/N!” You turned around and saw Draco walking up to you. “What’s up?”

“Hi,” you replied.

“Enjoying the day?”

“Fairly,” you replied.

“You came alone? Where’s the funny trio?”

“I don’t know.”

“Not even the boyfriend came?”

“Do you see Harry anywhere nearby?” you snapped.

“Merlin, what has gotten into you?”

“Nothing.” You kept walking.

“Tell me, I’m curious.”

“I said nothing, Malfoy.”

He remained silent for a bit. “Is it because of what you told me a few months ago?”

“What did I tell you?”

“That you liked me.”

“Whatever,” you replied.

“You’re with Potter now, everything is fine, isn’t it?” he kept going.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Malfoy.”

“I mean, you were the one that got back with Potter, I don’t know what I’ve done in the story.”

“I said drop it,” you replied.

“Alright, alright,” he said, still walking by your side. “But if you want to tell me something, just say it.

You snapped. “Oh, so you’re expecting that I smile and laugh with you after I told you that I liked you and you literally left me standing there?”

“What did you want me to say? Besides, you got back with Potter!”

“You could’ve handled things differently!”

“Like how?”

“Like talking to me about how you felt, even if it was not reciprocated.”

“You didn’t ask me, you just told me you liked me, what do you answer to that?”

“You say something, you do something, for Merlin’s beard!” you exclaimed.

“Well now you’re with Potter, right?”

You didn’t answer.

“Because if you’re not, maybe we can talk about it.”

“Talk about what?” you asked.

“About us.”

Something lit up in you.

“What is it with us?”

“I don’t know, what do you want it to be?”

“Draco, stop asking me abstract questions.”

“I might want something with you, Y/N.”

You stopped and looked at him. “Something like what?”

“Like maybe dating, if that’s what you want.”

“You want to date me? Do you like me?”

“If I’m asking you to date me it’s because I like you, Y/N.”

“Since when?” you asked.

“I don’t really know.” He did know though, since you had said your first words in class almost.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes, why would I be fooling you?”

“I don’t know Draco, I don’t know.”

He got closer to you.

“So, what are you gonna do? Are you gonna date me or stay with Potter?”

You looked at him, he was partly smiling. You thought he was looking gorgeous.

“I like you, it’s not working between Harry and I,” you ended up saying.

“So you’re gonna break up with him?” he asked.

“Yes.” He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He took both your hands and rubbed his thumb, caressing your fingers.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time,” he said.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I never thought you felt the same.”

“But I told you I did.”

“I was too scared. Besides, you got with Potter so I thought you were in love with him.”

“Right, I’m not.”

He got closer to you, his lips approaching yours as he placed a short peck on them.

You laughed.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you replied.

“Right.”

And that’s how you both went back to the castle, both your hands tangled with one another.

#draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy smut #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hogwarts imagine

[dear-bunnyboo]

I am in love with your fics 💕

Can I please request a Joe Burrow one shot where it’s about his calf early in the season, the reader constantly worries about Joe and tells him to sit each game out but Joe is stubborn so he doesn’t listen and Joe snaps at one point and it hurts the reader. Then it moves to one day where the reader doesn’t even bother worrying about him because the reader knows Joe won’t listen. Can it be angsty but end on a good note.

first Joey B one-shot angst!!! Love this request so much and it kinda lowkey reminded me of my other Joe Burrow one-shot— IDGAF 🤍

I never intended this one-shot to be too perfect for our current situation but it is what it is. This is for all my loves who are all lowkey freaking out because of the game, hope this makes you feel better even more just a moment 🤍

𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐄𝐒 || 𝐉𝐎𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Joe Burrow x Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You just want Joe to listen to you and say yes for once.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, cursing, mentions of injuries, shouting, frustrated!Joe, arguments, crying, fluff in the end

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You thought that this season would start different for your boyfriend Joe but it seems like it’s simply rotten luck on his part— you could say that Joe is a lucky guy; from being gifted with insane talent, skill, looks, personality, and the likes. However, he seems to have a knack on starting his football season either injured or sick.

It started with his knee injury during his rookie year— tearing left ACL and MCL during one of his games. Then him rupturing his appendix the year after, earning him another trip to the surgery table.

You honestly thought that this year was gonna be different for the quarterback. He has always been vocal about his disappointment in missing the beginning of each season— one of Joe’s many goals every year to to start the season healthy and end it healthy.

You and Joe thought that this year would be finally be the year he starts off strong and healthy— you were both wrong.

After getting a call from the Bengals’ coach Zach Taylor about your boyfriend being carted off the practice field for straining his calf; you were pretty sure you were close to crying. Joe’s calf injury surprisingly is the least serious out of all the injuries he had sustained but seeing your boyfriend so depleted once he got home from that practice hurt you.

Joe loves football. He loves what he does and it hurts you to see him so defeated.

However, Joe is not one to give up that easily. Once he got the clearance to continue with practice, he went straight for it and he was adamant on playing their first game of the season. You, however, you didn’t think it was a good idea for him to do so. Most of the people around him want him to sit the first few weeks out— you especially; scared that he might aggravate his injury even further.

But Joe was a lot of things and stubborn was one of those things.

He simply brushed your concerns off with a smile, “I feel good to play, baby. I need to play.” Joe reassured you before slightly limping over to his office to do his film study.

“You really don’t need to. It’s the first week, Joe.” You tried again before he could even leave your sights.

Joe turns to face you, and gave you another reassuring smile, “I’m fine. Alright? I’ll be okay.”

He was proven very wrong when week 1 rolled in and they loss to Cleveland— a terrible start for the season, you love Joe and are pretty bias towards the Bengals but you’d be lying if you said they didn’t play like ass that day.

Joe clearly wasn’t playing like himself. Everyone with two working eyes could see that his injury was holding him back—every tackle, every run, every movement he made made you gnaw on your lips.

You knew that he was blaming himself, yet you also knew that this would only push Joe to try even harder when the one thing he should be doing is rest.

“Joe, seriously. I don’t think you should play next week.” You tried reasoning out to your hard-headed boyfriend who seemed like he had his mind already made.

“That was a terrible game we just had. Which why I need to play next week so we can start strong— get our footing back.” Joe sighed as he ran his hands over his face in frustration as he remembered his awful performance.

“You are injured— you’re calf isn’t fully healed yet, people understand.” You said standing in front of the quarterback, trying to console the inconsolable.

“That’s not an excuse.”

“It is—”

“I’m playing next week— that’s final. Now, can we please talk about something else?” Joe cuts you off.

You blinked a couple times at your boyfriend before sighing, succumbing to his request you turned to move to the kitchen.

“What do you want to eat?”

You succeeded in changing the subject to your surprise earning a appreciative smile from Joe. As you made your dinner, you conversed with your boyfriend while you thought about the next game against the Ravens.

…

0-2

Week 2, different team, same predicament.

The Bengals lost, again. Which honestly didn’t come as a surprise for you— it was a better game at least, compared to the shit show that was week 1.

Joe did however, re-tweak his calf. Seeing him limp off the field after the game broke your heart. You could practically feel the frustration come out of Joe from a mile away— hopefully, this time he says yes to you and rest.

However, when Joe got home, you knew right away that his injury wouldn’t him from playing.

When you opened the door to greet your boyfriend, you immediately noticed the way he was leaning all his weight on his good leg. His brows were furrowed and his lips were pressed into a tight line— you had an inkling that you were not going to like whatever he was about to say.

And you were right.

“Before you even say anything— I’m fine. I only re-tweaked it and yes, I will be playing next week.” Joe hobbled inside the house, heading towards the kitchen to fix himself a drink.

“Joe you’re not okay.” You said firmly finally putting your foot down causing Joe to turn to look at you.

“You just strained your calf, you only re-tweaked it, what the hell is next, Joe?” You said trying to keep you voice calm, however, your furious eyes staring into Joe’s was betraying what you truly felt.

Your boyfriend threw his head back with a deep sigh in frustration. You two have seem to have the same conversation over and over again every week— and Joe didn’t understand why you can’t grasp the fact that he will be present every game. While you didn’t understand that Joe can’t grasp the fact that he needed to sit his ass down before he hurts himself even more.

In all honesty, you were scared— terrified even. You knew what you signed up for the second you accepted to be Joe’s girlfriend. You understood how dangerous it’s gonna be, you understood how hard it’s going to be for the both of you. But after tearing his ACL and MCL you were just living on the edge; constantly in fear that something even terrible was going to happen.

Getting that call from Zach, shook you to your core. You remembered dreading that it was gonna be career ending, luckily it wasn’t— just a strained calf, but on the rate Joe is going, you’ll never know.

“How many times am I going to tell you that I’m fine?” Joe was finally angry… angry at you. Listening to his tone made your heart drop, yet you can’t blame him. You know how much pressure he’s in; the amount of times people called him names just because of his bad performances; especially after signing a $275 million deal.

“All I’m asking is one game, Joe. Just one. Just sit one out— if you listened to me and didn’t play week 1 we wouldn’t be in this predicament.” You said defeatedly.

“And if you listened to me you’d actually know that I’m fine.” The quarterback retaliated.

The two of you were now face to face in the kitchen, both trying not to let anger get the best of you two and scream.

“Stop saying that when you are clearly in pain, Joe!” You threw your hands up in frustration as you watched your boyfriend eye you up and down.

“I don’t understand why you’re so worked up about this— it’s my health, my job, my life!” Joe grunts moving to walk away to hole himself back into his office.

His health. His job. His life. While his girlfriend is losing her goddamn mind.

“I’m concerned, Joe. It’s my job to worry about yo–”

“Then fucking don’t!” Joe snaps at you making you step back in shock.

Joe has never yelled at you, not once.

“And again, I’m playing next week whether you like it or not.” Joe’s tone finally calmed down, his blue eyes eyeing your still figure as you stared at him as if you didn’t know who he was.

Just then did Joe realized what he said to you— and moreover, how he said it. His eyes soften under the realization, his tall figure walking towards you to gather you in his arms and apologize.

But before he could do so, something snapped inside of you.

“Baby, I’m so so–”

“No. You’re right. I’m sorry.” You shook your head as if snapping yourself out of a trance before looking up at your now concerned boyfriend who was watching you closely.

His health. His job. His life.

“What do you want for dinner?” You smiled at him, the fakest one you could muster— Joe noticed, he wasn’t stupid… maybe he was a little.

“Do you want pasta? I’ll make you pasta.”

…

Thankfully week 3 was successful.

The Bengals’ first win of the season. The game wasn’t up to par with their usual standards of playing but a win is a win— and you were grateful for that win, for your sake and Joe’s.

The days leading up to the game against the Titans were fast approaching and Joe was frustrated. During practice he took notice how he still wasn’t 100% healthy and that bothered the quarterback; it affected his mobility and his speed mostly which throws his game off.

They won their first game of the season and Joe knows not to be complacent. Yet, he can’t help but hear that nagging voice inside his head that was telling him that you were right— hell, everyone was right. You weren’t the only one who wants him to skip a few games. Ever since his calf injury, his teammates, his coach, his parents, and the fans were all adamant for him to rest.

Obviously, Joe didn’t listen which only caused his calf to take longer to heal which you warned him would happen. As he hobbled up inside his house after practice, he was greeted by the sound of the living room TV— there you were snuggled up on the couch fully immersed as you watched your favorite show.

“Hey.” Joe announced his arrival causing you to turn the TV off and turn to him with a reserved smile.

“Hey, how was practice?” You asked before walking up to the quarterback placing a kiss on his awaiting lips.

“It was tiring as usual.” Joe stated as he wrapped his arms around your waist before continuing, “My calf is sore too.” He confessed guilt filled his face as he awaited for your reaction.

“I’ll prepare an ice compress. Sit down and elevate your leg up the couch.” You pulled away from him before pushing him down the couch lightly. You placed a few pillows at the end of the couch and carefully helped Joe place his injured leg on it.

You quietly moved to get his ice compress not saying another word which was unusual for you— shocking Joe. He was so sure the you were gonna scold him again.

But you didn’t.

You placed the ice compress on his injured calf, placed a kiss on his lips, before turning to him and saying, “I need to shower. Just yell if you need anything.”

Then you left.

No scolding, no questions, no expressing of concern— nothing.

Clearly what Joe said the other day is still bothering you. You still cared and loved the man, obviously. You still took care of him. But your opinions— as much as you’re concerned are not needed, so you kept quiet and kept them to yourself.

Joe didn’t like it at all. He knew he messed up the second he said what he said. The look on your face pained him, he hated himself for talking to you in such way and making you feel like you were in the wrong.

And now you’ve shut down.

While Joe was thankful for the ice compress, he can only hope that the next one he gets from you would be accompanied by the same smile that always greets him whenever he gets home from a long day of practice.

…

2-2

It was the last week of September and the Bengals were still winning. However, Joe wasn't winning.

The quarterback knew that you were still angry with him. He knew that ever since the moment he got home. It's been weeks since he had a proper conversation with you— it was as if the both of you were living separate lives, and it killed him.

Every morning he would wake up with his breakfast and medicine ready and every night, dinner would be on the table with your plate untouched and the leftovers covered and put away inside the fridge.

Joe had never been in this position before. You have never been mad at him, never. Not once. Sure, the two of you have fought over trivial things here and there but never had the two of you had a fight as big as this one.

Joe knows how much he fucked up, yet he's not sure if you were ready to forgive him or if he even deserved it.

And it seems like, the universe is testing his patience.

Joe was frustrated, so damn frustrated. This season wasn't going as well as he wanted it to go and with his calf injury, his mobility was greatly affected and the pain was also hindering him from playing to his fullest capacity.

And it was getting harder and harder to hide it from his girlfriend.

You were starting to catch on, and you were starting to suspect that something was going on with him. But being the stubborn and proud man he was, he refused to let it affect his performance, or the relationship with his girlfriend.

After an excruciating practice, the quarterback was greeted by the sight of his beautiful girlfriend, who was already in the kitchen cooking for dinner.

"Hey." Joe greeted.

"Hi." You simply greeted back without even looking up from the vegetables you were cutting.

"Smells good." He tried, wanting to engage a conversation with you.

"Thank you." You smiled before throwing the vegetables in the pan, "Dinner will be ready in a bit. Can you wash up?"

Joe stared at your back for a few moments before nodding his head, "Alright."

You heard the bathroom door close and that's when you decided to let the tears fall from your eyes.

You missed your boyfriend. You wanted your boyfriend back.

This whole thing was draining you. You hated having to keep yourself together and act as if everything was alright. It was eating you inside.

You weren't the type to hold grudges, especially to Joe. You always understood his point of view, and even if he was wrong, you'd always forgive him. But the way he talked to you last time, the way he treated you, made your heart ache.

"Fuck." You muttered as you wiped the tears from your eyes and proceeded to cook dinner.

You can't remember how long it had been since you've properly talked to Joe. The both of you have been tiptoeing around each other, not wanting to push the other's buttons.

And you were sick of it.

"How was practice?" You asked once the two of you had sat down at the dining table to eat.

Joe looked up from his food and gave you a small smile, "It was good."

You nodded your head and proceeded to eat.

"How was your day?" Joe asked after a few minutes of silence.

"It was fine."

Joe sighed before looking up at you, "Please don't do that."

"What?" You feigned innocence.

"Pretend."

"What are you talking about?" You said defensively.

"Baby, come on. You know exactly what I'm talking about." Joe said.

You rolled your eyes before scoffing, "I'm not pretending."

"You've barely said a word to me in the past three weeks. Do you honestly expect me to believe that?"

"Oh, because you didn't say a word to me either. And you were the one who told me to not worry. So, I'm not worrying." You fired back.

"You're being stubborn."

"Oh, now I'm the stubborn one?" You chuckled sarcastically.

"Yeah. You are." Joe nodded his head.

"So, what? Are we just not going to talk until we die?"

"Well, clearly that's the option that you're leaning on."

"I can't talk to you when you're acting like a dick!" You exclaimed, clearly tired of him putting the blame on you.

"Because you're the picture perfect definition of maturity and rationality."

"You're such a fucking asshole." You muttered, pushing your plate away from you before standing up.

"Where are you going?"

“Away from you.” You moved to walk towards the bedroom.

Joe let out a frustrated groan before standing up to catch your hand in his.

“Can we please talk about this? Properly like adults?” Joe was practically begging at this point.

You stared at him, contemplating if you should actually have a civil conversation or just brush him off.

However, Joe didn't give you the time to think.

He leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was slow and sweet and everything you needed to finally snap. You pulled away and looked at him, his blue eyes gazing into yours.

"Joe..."

"I'm so sorry."

Joe didn't know where it came from. One moment he was pleading for you to listen to him, and then the next thing he knows is that his mouth was already moving, "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry for not listening to you, and I'm sorry for taking it all out on you. I'm sorry for hurting you, baby. I didn't mean what I said, and I regretted it the second it came out of my mouth. I'm so, so sorry."

He kissed your forehead before cupping your face in his hands.

"I'm not asking for your forgiveness. I'm not even gonna ask if I'm forgiven because I probably don't deserve it. But, I need you to know that I'm sorry."

You looked up at him before nodding your head, "I'm not mad at you anymore, Joe. I was, and I was hurt. But I wasn't mad."

"I was hurt sure but I knew how frustrated you were and how much pressure you are in— so i understand.” You sighed. “ I hate seeing you hurt and I know how much you love your job but what if it’s also the reason you lose it?” You finally confessed as your eyes filled with a light mist.

“I just want you to rest. For a day at least— cause that is never gonna get better if you didn’t and you know it.” You pointed at his injured calf as you explained.

“Yes, baby. I know and I will.” Joe promised.

And he kept that promise— leading on after their bye week, they have been winning games after games. Joe’s performance drastically changed from how he started. Everyone could see that their quarterback was back, which you couldn’t take credit for— cause Joe was a lot of things; stubborn, hard-headed, but he is also hard working.

And you couldn’t be more proud.

dividers: @cafekitsune

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @jackkyhughes @h0e4fictionalme-n @queenmendes @rd14 @scoobydoopoo @estapa94 @karmasabitchybitch @literaturelustrr @toterry @fangirl-madz @atticusismybae @stargaryenx @haydee5010 @porter113 @ryiamarie @starrgir1 @flwries @slafgoalskybaby @unsaidjaelinrose @in-my-body-bag @cixrosie @siutforjjmaybank @youn-jo @nobystanderz @bb-swift @buckystwilight @kidrauhlakaperf @kkrenae @catswag22 @hustler-sinner @asparklysoul @kaydesssssssss @97bngchn @dunningz @whiteleoqueen @austinswhitewolf @wickedfun9 @minkyungseokie @boldlypessimistic

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUESTS AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡

-𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲ఌ

#joe burrow #dear bunnyboo🏹 #joe burrow x reader #cincinnati bengals #joe brrr #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow bengals #joeburrow #joe shiesty #joey burrow #angry joe #joey b #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x oc

[tangledinink]

Chapter Twelve of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is up!!! It's the moment you've all waited for-- the reveal. :000 They boys discover some things about themselves (things they once knew) and visit an unfamiliar place (a place that was once familiar.) Read it on ao3 or below the cut!

[ prev ]

The group’s shocked silence lasted for two, maybe three seconds before it quickly morphed into chaos.

“That’s him! That’s the goat!” Mikey shrieked, pointing wildly. “That’s the goat who has Dad!”

“Leo! Call 911!” Raph commanded. Leo scoffed loudly.

“No way! I wanna kick this guy’s ass. Make Donnie do it.”

“What?! No fair! I’ve called 911 the last six times! It’s someone else’s turn!”

“You have not! I called 911 last time!” April protested.

“That one doesn’t count!”

“Well someone’s gotta--”

“Enough!” Goatman snarled, absolutely bristling, waving his arm sharply. The air around them suddenly felt colder and stiller, and Leo shuddered, gritting his teeth as his posture stiffened. “I am not here to listen to your silly arguments. I am here to bring you home, so you can finally fulfill your purpose.”

Leo gave a short snort of laughter. “Hm, yeah, tempting, but our Daddy actually taught us not to go with creepy sheep strangers, even if they offer us free candy, soooo…”

“What?! Candy? No! I’m talking about your purpose! The reason you were created-- to eliminate the human threat! Come with me, and I can unlock your full potential!”

“How many divine purposes have we got again? ‘Cause I’m starting to lose track,” Mikey complained. Leo rolled his eyes.

“Eliminate the human threat? Yeah, uh, maybe you haven't been paying attention, but in case you haven’t noticed, we’re literally humans.”

The yokai paused for a moment. His face twisted, and he hunched his shoulders back before he gave a forced laugh. “Humans?” He echoed. “Humans?! Surely you aren’t fooled by those silly trinkets! You can’t possibly, actually believe…”

“Oh my god. This guy is, like, for real crazy,” April observed, raising her brows.

“No, you are fools!” He hissed in return. “Humans?! These ridiculous forms are completely fabricated! These are not your true selves! You are experiments! You are soldiers! You’re mutated turtles-- my greatest creations! The creations of Baron Draxum!”

“Baron Draxum? Okay, well, we’ll deal with him when he gets here… Oh… Oh-ho-ho wait! You’re doing that, like, sinister talking-about-yourself-in-third person thing, aren’t you! Oh my god, that’s rich!” Leo snorted.

“Hey! Only Raph can use the third-person!”

“I’m sorry, did he say turtles?” Mikey questioned.

“Oh my fucking god…” Leo laughed, clutching his stomach. “Turtles? I’m sorry, we’re mutant turtles?”

“This guy can’t be serious,” Raph muttered.

“Uh, yeah, I’m pretty sure we would have noticed by now if we were reptiles,” Donnie scoffed, one hand on his hip. “Let alone subjects of some kind of biochemical experiments. Which I am intimately familiar with, by the way. Do you have any idea how many community gardens I’ve been banned from?”

“This can’t…” The yokai shook his head, a hand on his brow. “How could you be tricked by such simple magic? I will show you if I have to.” 

“Oh, I’d love to see that,” Donnie muttered.

“Come with me--”

“You are out of your damn mind if you think we’re goin’ anywhere with you!” Raph cut in.

“Maybe if you prove that turtle hypothesis thing you have going on, we can discuss it from there,” Donnie laughed, one brow quirked, sounding caught somewhere between exasperated and amused. Honestly, this whole thing was a little bit fucking hilarious. It was also fucking horrible and scary because their dad was missing and a magic criminal had them cornered in an alley, but like. Seriously. Mutant turtles? You can’t make this stuff up, dude.

Draxum sighed very deeply, scowling at their group.

“Very well,” he said, and he snapped his fingers.

Things became unfunny very, very quickly. 

If the air had become cold earlier, now it became startlingly hot, just for a moment, the alley rising up at least five degrees, and Leo heard this choked, startled gasp that he immediately recognized as his twin brother. At the same time, a blinding, almost familiar flash of white light overtook the alley, and Leo hissed, flinching away. 

When he looked back, he was horrified to find that where his brother had been standing just a moment ago there was instead some sort of green, scaled creature, their eyes slitted and their skin leathery and bumped, and he thought, what the hell happened to my brother? And after a moment of silence, all of them staring in dazed shock, the reptile flailed, floundered, held its own hands up to its face as if to examine them, and promptly began screaming. 

And Leo recognized his own brother's screams, so instead he was thinking: what the hell happened to my brother?!

“What did you do?!” Leo shrieked. Behind him, Mikey screamed, too, and he could hear April spluttering out an impressive string of curse words. He just barely resisted the urge to race over to Donnie’s side, to check if he was okay, (he’s not okay, he knows he’s not okay,) to try to help him, to fix it, because he couldn’t just turn his back on the enemy in front of them-- couldn’t ignore the very obvious threat.

“I simply removed the cloaking enchantment as he requested,” Draxum responded calmly. He even looked amused, almost, the very corners of his lips turning up.

“You what!? What the hell are you-- fix it!!! Turn him back!!!” Leo demanded, his voice rising with the very edges of panic, his pulse climbing ever-steadily higher the longer he listened to his siblings scream.

The other sighed deeply, tilting their head to the side. “Do you still not understand? Fine, then. I’ll show you as well.” 

Snap.

Leo wouldn’t describe the experience as painful, but it really wasn’t pleasant, either. He swore he could feel his skin being stripped away and reforming; it was like his skeleton itself was being rearranged, his entire body becoming fluid for just a split second before solidifying again in new places, new patterns, new spaces. An unfamiliar weight pulled at his shoulders, forcing his spine to bend, and his hands and feet fell in a way that now felt unnatural to him. His skin seemed to lay over his muscles differently now.

He was vaguely aware of Mikey screaming somewhere behind him a second time, echoing Donatello’s continued wails. 

“Guys?” April bit out, her voice high and frightened.

What the hell happened to him?

“What-- what did you do?” Leo repeated himself, his eyes wide, straining, because his vision was ever-so-slightly different than it had been a few seconds ago and he didn’t know how to adjust. He swore to god he was frozen in place. He wasn’t sure when he had ended up on his knees, but he was shaking so hard, he supposed he wasn’t surprised.

What the fuck happened to his body?

“Now are you convinced?” The yokai pressed. “Now, we will be going to my lab whether you want to or not. We can either do this the easy way or the hard way. I would highly recommend the easy way,” he hummed, giving a sharp sweep of his arms. Wind tugged at his back and Leo had just barely the presence of mind to glance behind him, his eyes widening in horror to see this huge expanse of black opening up behind him. 

Mikey-- (Mikey? They were small, they were wearing Mikey’s clothes, it must be Mikey--) yelped loudly, the inky cloud yanking him from his feet. April jumped, attempting to grab her baby brother, though she only succeeded in falling into him-- both of them swallowed up into the portal. Raph gave a strangled howl of protest, diving right after them, and Donnie was sucked up as well, disappearing from Leo’s sight. His heart thudded wildly in his ears. He could feel the magick yanking at him, trying to pull him in as well. 

But Leo had always been the fastest. 

Every shred of him was screaming to follow, to chase after his family, to go with his sister and brothers, but he tensed his muscles, his stance widening and holding firm as he set his sights back on the yokai towering before him. A tiny voice in his head whispered in his ears that following wouldn’t help--

No, he had to move forward. This guy was the one hurting them.

Get him.

Leo wasn’t sure if he had leapt forward or if he simply was there. Everything was moving too quickly for even him to follow, the blinding white of panic and rage eating hungrily at the edges of his vision, threatening to overtake him. Either way, he lunged, a cry of protective fury wringing itself from his chest.

 "Stay away from my brothers," he snarled, his own throat staggering painfully with the force with which he screamed out his warning, his hands flying forward to grab the yokai by his throat, slamming into him at full speed. He felt the alien velvet fuzz of Draxum’s skin beneath the tear of his fingernails (claws) even as the pair of them were flung from their feet. Gravity was stolen from them both, the portal behind them reaching out to consume them. 

Everything went black. For just a second, tumbling through nothingness, floating through the sizzling rush of magick itself, Leo couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t hear anything, all he could feel was the body of the yokai against him, struggling against his grip, attempting to throw him away. 

And then this bright, searing lavender light came singing through the world. It didn’t reflect or bounce; nothing was lit up by it. Leo still could not see himself, could not even find the outline of his own hands or fingers. But this brilliant, complex pattern of the palest, gentlest pastel purple lit up bright before him, swirling and twisting in foreign shapes, and Leo just barely recognized that the ribbon of runes they formed echoed the shape of the yokai he had just grabbed.

The body he was clinging to went limp.

The next second, the wind was knocked out of him as they made impact with stone, light coming streaming back into his universe. Leo found himself landing in a heap in their new location, the portal disappearing behind them. Oddly, however, the crash landing didn’t hurt near as much as he would have expected it to.

“Leo!” He heard Raph cry. Leo groaned, still dazed, looking around blearily. Where the hell were they? He glanced over at the yokai who he had yanked through the portal with them, only to find them in an awkward slump just a few paces away, completely limp and seemingly unconscious. 

“Are you okay? What happened?” Raph demanded, moving quickly to his side. Mikey was already all bundled up in his arms, shaking like a leaf and absolutely clinging to him for dear life like he was going to fall apart if he let go. And Leo couldn’t even blame him if he did. Mikey had always been the smallest of them, and Raph always the biggest, but Leo thought dimly that the size difference between them now was fucking bananas.

Jesus christ. Raph was fucking huge. And… spiky. Was he a goddamn dinosaur? What the fuck.

“I-- yeah-- I-- I think the goatman got knocked out--” He stammered, still reeling slightly, trying to collect himself, to gather himself, adrenaline still rushing through his veins like it was a racetrack. 

Somewhere in the background, Donnie fucking screamed, and Leo immediately forgot about everything else, his head whipping around. 

“Donnie!” He cried, on his feet in a second, rushing over to his brother’s side. He had no idea where they were, not having yet taken stock of the location. He was only dimly aware that they were someplace cold and dark, with stone and concrete above, below, and around them. Donnie had pressed himself up against one of the walls, his entire body rigid and his head bent forward, his arms fluttering wildly beside his head in such a way that Leo recognized he was fighting not to hit himself. Good job, Dee. The screaming continued, but every wail that wrenched its way out of Donnie’s mouth was short and grinding, repeating itself over and over like an alarm. It was fucking terrifying. Not for him, but for Donnie, because he could tell that they were completely, totally not in control. Just panicking.

“Hey. Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m right here, Don. It’s alright. It’s okay, you’re safe, I’m right here, hermano,” he tried to soothe, forcing his voice down, calm, steady. He knew better than to touch Donnie, but he would reach over just long enough to tap a button on the side of his headphones that he knew would flip the device into white noise mode. Donnie jerked slightly in response, and the screaming stopped, at least, but he didn’t relax. His arms still fluttered and flapped anxiously, and he shifted just enough to begin rocking back and forth, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth so hard that Leo was afraid he was going to hurt himself. His chest absolutely shook with the panicked, shuddering breaths he was taking, hyperventilating so hard that his entire body trembled in response.

“Come on, Donnie, it’s alright. It’s okay. We’re safe, Mikey and Raph and April are safe, we’re gonna be okay, but you’ve gotta breathe, dude. Can you try it with me? Like this? We’ve gotta calm down a little bit--” Leo pressed on because this was not his first rodeo. He wasn’t quite as adept at handling these things as their dad was, and at this point, Donnie was pretty good at avoiding meltdowns and panic attacks, armed with tools and tricks and years of therapy, but sometimes they were unavoidable and Leo had always known how to calm them down, always been able to step up and help, the same way Donnie could for him--

But Donnie wasn’t calming down. Donnie wouldn’t even look up at him. Rather, Donnie scrunched up harder, curled his lips, and fucking hissed at him.

And, okay, look, it wasn’t the first time Donnie had hissed at them. Donnie used to love to hiss at people when they were little kids, though nowadays he was more likely to express annoyance with declarations such as “groan” or “scoff” or “eye-roll.” But he didn’t hiss like this.

He sounded fucking feral. Even more than that, he sounded fucking terrified. He looked like a goddamn cornered animal, his eyes blown out and huge, the scaly skin that now made up his form stretched tight over shivering muscles and his lips drawn back over sharp, pointed teeth. And Leo looked down at his own clawed, three-fingered hand and came to a horrible realization.

He couldn’t help because Donnie couldn’t recognize him. They were panicking because they were in this crazy, fucked up body that wasn’t theirs, and Leo was in a fucked up body that wasn’t his, and looking at him was just a reminder of everything wrong. He was just scaring them more. His being here was just making things worse, and Leo’s throat tied itself in a knot, swelling up as the backs of his eyes pinched with the thought.

“April,” he called, his voice cracking slightly as he desperately turned to look for his sister. She wasn’t far off, watching from a short distance with obvious worry, and she blinked in surprise at the sound of her name.

“Help me.”

---

If Leo was being completely honest, he hadn’t even realized that Donnie wasn’t still nearby. The two of them typically stuck together like glue whenever they were at school. Leo would usually lead the way, and Donnie would trail after, with Leo doing most of the talking and socializing for both of them. And once Donnie got sick of whatever they were doing, he would simply drag Leo off to sit and read or work on some project or puzzle for a while, and Leo would oblige and keep him company. Donnie was always close by, and Leo wasn’t even aware that this wasn’t currently the case, too absorbed in his latest arts and crafts project, until he heard a telltale, high-pitched whine from across the room.

He was on his feet in seconds, abandoning the activity and his classmates to scuttle off in search of his twin brother. Luckily, he wasn’t too hard to find. Both because he was pretty loud, and also because their substitute teacher was crouched down next to him. She was nice enough, Leo thought, but not quite as cool as Miss Mitchelle was, and he wasn’t sure if Donnie liked her at all. It definitely didn’t seem like he liked her too much right now with how he was all balled up, and Leo wasted no time at all in planting himself physically between the two.

Donnie immediately gravitated towards his brother and Leo moved a bit closer in turn, giving Miss Substitute (he didn’t remember her name,) a very displeased look.

“He doesn’t like whatever you’re doing,” he declared firmly.

Miss Substitute’s expression twitched and faltered for a moment before it settled back into something patient and pleasant, though Leo still didn’t quite trust it. “Leo,” she said, “I was just trying to talk with your brother--”

“I can talk to him,” Leo assured immediately, not bothering to listen to the remainder of her sentence because he couldn’t imagine it would be all that important or interesting. He turned to face Donnie instead. “It’s okay. I can always understand him, ‘cause we have a secret twin language. We made it up. Only we can speak it,” he declared proudly, crouching down to lean in towards his brother, his arms wrapped around his knees.

Donnie was still whining a bit, curled up into a ball and shoved halfway inside of a cubby, his arms crossed protectively over his head as he rocked. And yeah, he was obviously upset, though Leo wasn’t completely sure why yet. As such, he got to work, conversing with his twin in the previously mentioned secret twin language.

… And.

Okay.

So.

They didn’t actually have a secret twin language.

But it was close enough! It wasn’t a language, per se, ‘cause it didn’t have words, just noises and chirps and trills and squeaks and babbles. But he still always got the gist of what Donnie was saying, and Donnie would get the gist of what he was saying, too, so it worked. Sooner or later, he could pretty much always get an understanding of what Donnie was meaning based on the inflection or tone of his noises, as well as calm the other down enough so that Leo could coax a couple of signs out of him, so Leo figured it was close enough to language.

Plus, the ‘language’ itself always seemed to kind of settle Donnie down when he was upset like this. Once Leo started humming and squeaking at him, Donnie gradually started to answer with his own chirps and clicks, and, little by little, Leo watched their twin’s body untense and unwind. Leo grinned, moving to sit properly by him, and Donnie moved closer, edging just a bit out of his hiding spot so he could shove himself up against Leo’s side instead, resting his head against his shoulder and settling in there, an indignant scowl still on his face.

Leo grinned, puffing out his chest a bit as he shot Miss Substitute a look. See? He told her so. He and Donnie always understood each other, no matter what, and he could always fix it when Donnie wasn’t feeling good! He was basically the best brother in the entire world. Confident that he understood the problem, he turned back to face Miss Substitute.

“He said you’re not doing the schedule right, and we’re supposed to do math right now,” he announced, crossing his arms over his chest. And he hadn’t even noticed, but Donnie was right, they did usually do math lessons during this part of the day-- not arts and crafts. “And also, he doesn’t like the paper fish we’re doing ‘cause the glue feels bad. So we gotta find something else to do,” he insisted. “‘Cause otherwise Donnie and I aren’t playing.”

Donnie nodded a tiny bit from behind him, and Leo beamed with pride. Understanding Donnie and calming him down wasn’t even that hard. He didn’t get why adults besides Dad had such a hard time with it sometimes. You really just had to listen to him. 

---

It took a while for April to calm Donnie back down, (or at least get him as calm as they possibly could be in such circumstances,) but she managed after a bit, his panicked breaths eventually dying down into something a bit more even and steady. Thank god. Mikey thought dimly to himself that he had never seen Donnie freak out so bad, but... he supposed he couldn't really blame him. 

He frowned a bit, looking down at his own, unfamiliar hands, and he curled up a bit more, his tail tucking in (oh my god, he had a tail,) as he clung to Raph's plastron (oh my god, Raph had a plastron.) And though it still held comfort, the fold of his biggest brother's arms, bundled up close and held there, this place that he had known his whole life... it suddenly felt foreign, too. Everything was hard and jagged and cold. And even worse-- it was unfamiliar. 

He kept staring at his own hands because he couldn't stop himself, and it made his stomach wobble. He wondered bleakly what his own face looked like because he had no idea. He wouldn't even recognize himself in the mirror. 

 Now that Donnie had finally settled a bit, though he was still curled up and pressed just against April's side, just barely not touching but still squeezed up small against her, Leo finally got up to his feet-- only to immediately lose his balance, falling over onto his back with a loud clunk.

"Leo!" Raph's eyes widened, his muscles immediately bunching up, ready to jump up and go grab his brother. Mikey could tell that he was just barely resisting the urge to scoop up all three of them and bundle them up in his arms and just hang onto them for a while. He had been sitting here long enough for Mikey to notice how fast his heart was beating. Mikey’s was keeping pace. Leo kind of flailed for a second before he managed to redirect the momentum to roll over onto his side, getting himself back onto his hands and knees. A wry, strangled laugh forced its way out of him.

"Alright. Well. Pro tip: center of gravity is weird now," he remarked dryly, his voice strained. "But the good news is falling doesn't even hurt anymore! So that’s great!"

It didn't get a laugh out of anyone. After a moment of hesitation, Mikey slowly wriggled his way from Raph's grip, making his way over to Leo's side. He didn't dare try to walk after watching Leo's attempt, noting that it seemed to be more difficult now without the rush of adrenaline to aid them, so he instead stayed in a crouch, sort of half-hopping-half-crawling over. Raph followed shortly after in a similar manner.

"Can I see?" He questioned softly, and when Leo didn't deny him, he leaned over slightly, moving his hoodie (which was now a very awkward fit,) out of the way enough so that he could examine the edges of his brother's new shell.

(Oh my god. His brother's shell. What kind of a sentence was that? What kind of weird, fucked up make-believe world were they suddenly in? Leo was his brother. He didn't have a shell. He had cool brown skin. He had bouncy blonde curls that Mikey had helped him bleach and dye a red streak in. He had vitiligo 'stripes' over his eyes. He had a bad habit of cycling through boyfriends and insomnia and a shockingly large vocabulary... but he didn't have a shell. He didn't have scales or stripes or claws or a tail.)

He looked anyway, running the tips of his fingers over the top of it, following the curve. He couldn't quite tell if he was feeling the texture of the shell, or just the texture of his own fingers, which were different than they had been; covered in scales, the skin thicker and rougher than it had been before. Bending his joints felt odd, and he couldn't help himself from doing it over and over, as if that might help him get used to it faster. 

 Every part of his brother’s shell was this cool, ocean blue, just edging on teal in some places, and Mikey thought to himself that, in the very least, it matched his life color perfectly. 

He swallowed hard and resisted the tears that were building up in his eyes. He didn’t want to cry right now. He didn’t even know what he was crying about. Because he was scared? Because he was overwhelmed? He wasn’t very good at not crying, but he forced it down, his hands trembling a bit with the effort of it.

 "Does it look the same as mine?" He heard himself asking, his eyes flickering over to meet Leo's (which were now not something he recognized, looking more animal than person, though they still retained the same, familiar almond shape. The color, however, he realized, was slightly different. Leo's eyes were brown. All of their eyes were brown, so dark that they were almost black, but now, instead, Leo's eyes were mismatched; one of them dark blue, like water in a cove, like the sea at night, and the other dark red, like ink with blood, like black cherries.) 

"I dunno," Leo laughed, though his voice was still shaking. "I don't know what mine looks like."

"They're... kinda the same…" Raph observed from nearby, leaning over slightly to examine them both. His voice sounded kind of hollow, like he wasn’t really there. Sort of far-off. "I mean. The parts I can see. Mikey, yours is more... orangey. And bumpier," he said. "And yours is spotty. Leo's is kinda... stripey." 

"Yours is huge," Leo observed with a chuckle, glancing over at their biggest brother, who was always the tallest and largest by a wide margin, but now absolutely dwarfed the rest of them. "And... spiky. You're all spiky. And… and fucking huge, dude. You look like you have fucking paws. And your mouth is all..." He laughed again, scrubbing anxiously at his face with his hands. "You look like a fucking snapping turtle."

Mikey paused a bit at that, glancing over at the other.

Donnie must have said or signed something that the rest of them didn’t catch, because April spoke up next, clearly addressing him. "Uhm, no, yours is... uh. It's kind of flat? And..." There was a pause. "Oh, oh my god, it's, like, squishy!" She squealed, everyone else in the room jumping in response, before she tamped down the noise, biting her lip and getting a handle on her reaction. "Sorry! Sorry, I just. I just wasn't expecting that texture, that's all! It doesn't... feel like what I thought a shell would feel like, I guess."

"Are we different kinds of... turtles?" Mikey questioned, tilting his head to the side. He wanted to laugh at himself when he said turtles. I mean, seriously, turtles? Of all the creatures in the world, turtles? Why were they turtles?

"I guess we must be," Leo sighed, resting his chin on his knee. "We obviously look different." 

Mikey frowned, and he thought that his lips might be trembling if he had proper lips anymore, but he wasn't sure if he did or if they could tremble or what that would feel like if they did. Okay, fine. Now there were a few tears. 

"Does that mean we're not brothers?" 

A beat of silence followed.

"We're not," Donnie said, and quite frankly, Mikey was surprised to hear him speaking. Small miracles? Kinda…?

"Yeah, we are. Don't be crazy," Raph immediately refuted, his brows (er... brows? Place where brows once were?) furrowing together, and Mikey was desperately relieved to see that the space in between still wrinkled into a crease the same way they always did. "Of course we're brothers."

"Evidently, we're not even the same species," Donnie hissed out bitterly, drawing himself up even closer, even smaller, into a little ball. "It's literally impossible."

"Come on, Dee--"

"We're not even human!" Donnie snapped, hunching up his shoulders. "We're not even people!"

"Hey, look, come on you guys," April tried to soothe, holding up her hands as if to calm the group. "It doesn't matter if you're turtles! It doesn't matter to me. I love you guys no matter what--"

"Oh, wow, what a comfort!" Donnie scoffed, and April bristled.

"Okay, look, I am trying to be helpful! I know that this fucking sucks but you do not need to take out your nasty attitude on me!"

Leo suddenly laughed-- loudly, painfully-- tilting his head back and letting his shoulders slump so he could stare up at the ceiling. "Oh my god. Jesus christ. We're not people," he bit out in between his barely restrained hysterics, squeezing his eyes shut. "We're freaks, dude!"

"Leo, c'mon." 

"We're not even people!!!" He repeated. "Fuck. We never even had a chance, and we didn't even know it!... Oh my god, we’re such morons!!! Hahaha-- welp! This is it! Pack it in, boys, it’s all over!"

"Leo, chill. What are you even talkin’ about?"

"Did you know I was gonna go on T?" He questioned, turning around sharply, suddenly, to face Raph. "Me and Dad were talking about it. For, like, a while now. And I was gonna start T, finally. Do you know how much I wanted to do that? Do you know how long I've been waiting to get to do that?"

Raph frowned. "Leo... This doesn't mean--"

"How the fuck is that going to work now!?" He interrupted. "How is anything gonna work now? We're fucking! REPTILES! Raph!!!"

"I KNOW THAT!" Now Raph was yelling, too, and Mikey flinched a bit, hiccuping softly as he drew himself down, retreating slightly, halfway into his shell (oh my god, he can do that now?) "You think you're the only one who was lookin' forward to stuff? I was--" He cut himself off, breathing in deep and then letting it out slow, his jaw tensed.

"Look. I know this... sucks. But it's not gonna help to just throw in the towel right now and mourn shit that we don't even know is gone yet, alright? We'll... figure it out," he said. "We don’t even know what’s goin’ on, so let’s just… let's just try to figure it out first. Okay?" 

Leo frowned. He looked down and to the side, tightening his hands into fists, but he didn't have any rebuttal. After a moment, he took a deep breath, pulling himself up to his feet for a second time. He tottered for a moment, his arms windmilling until he found his balance and this time he stayed on his feet. He looked around the room for a moment before his eyes fell on the limp form of Baron Draxum, still crumpled in a heap some odd paces away.

"What do we do with that guy?"

All of their eyes snapped over, as though they had all just remembered that he was there in the first place.

"Did you knock him out, dude?!" Raph questioned, his eyes widening slightly. 

"No! I mean. I don't think so. Not exactly," Leo said. "It's, like-- he grabbed me and some sort of mystic-magic-whatever thing happened. He lit up with a bunch of symbols and he just... went down. I dunno what happened." 

"Well," Raph said, sighing deeply before he pulled himself to his feet as well, doing a similar rock and wobble to Leo before he figured out the new balance he had to strike, correcting his own footing. His long tail swung back and forth behind him, assumedly on instinct, to help. "We dunno how long he's gonna stay down, so we oughta find a way out of here and put some distance between us and him ASAP. We already know where Dad is, anyway."

"Maybe we can figure out where we are," Donnie mumbled bleakly, pulling himself to his feet as well. He seemed to struggle much less than his brothers did, and Mikey noted that his back rounded less than theirs. April got up as well, sticking close to his side, but perhaps hovering a bit less now. 

Mikey watched as his family rose up, one by one, finding their feet again. And something in his chest unwound and loosened again. A breath he hadn't realized he had been holding came tumbling out of him.

He didn't know his own face anymore. And he didn't recognize his brothers when he looked at them.

But they were still them. Already, Mikey was completely sure of it. And the change, while still terrifying, felt just a tiny bit less devastating. 

He hadn’t lost them yet.

Bracing himself for the coming challenge, he rose up to his feet as well. The unfamiliar weight on his back was more than he had expected and attempted to drag him down, and he stumbled slightly, nearly toppling over onto his back the same way Leo had the first time-- but Raph grabbed his wrist before he could, pulling him forward and correcting him, and Mikey was relieved to find his center of gravity once more. Usually, he would complain about his big brother stepping in, preferring to do things on his own rather than being 'babied' by his older family members, but...

 Right now, it was actually okay. 

"Okay. Let's do this." 

(They took about three steps before Raph yelped and tripped over his own tail.)

---

Though they had tied up the so-called "Baron Draxum" with whatever rope and other scrap they could find in this place, (the longer they were here, the more Donnie began to suspect it was a lab of some kind,) none of them were very confident that it would be able to hold him for very long, if at all, and so they all got to work trying to figure out an exit. But to call this place 'maze-like' was a bit of an understatement.

"This is the worst landmark ever," April hissed in frustration as they turned a corner, only to once again be met with a hog-tied yokai, face-down on the concrete. "We keep going in circles!"

"Okay, look," Donnie sighed. "I know we don't want to linger here any more than we have to, but let's look around a bit and see if there's anything useful lying around to get us out of here. Clearly just walking out isn't getting us anywhere." 

There was a chorus of grunts and mumbles of agreement from the rest of his family, and the group slowly fanned out, beginning their search. It was dark here, wherever they were. The ground beneath his feet was cold, with him and his brothers having already ditched and stowed their sneakers and boots after realizing how awkward and painful it was to walk in them with their new wide, two-toed feet. 

The space was wide and almost circular, with various tunnels branching off at different levels, all leading away to who-knew-where. Several desks and tables were scattered about the space, each surface covered in everything from charts to pipettes to oddly-shaped jars filled with oddly-colored substances. Donnie just barely resisted the urge to sit down and start working, or to begin snatching and pocketing things as he found them. Instead, he took a liberal amount of photographs of everything they found on his phone.

 His impulse control could only get him so far, however, and his eyes narrowed as they fell across a small, purpley-pink gem that lay on the desk, suspended within a small glass case. This certainly looked interesting... Geology wasn't really a passion of his, but something about this just seemed... intriguing. He couldn't quite place it...

 Surely no one would miss this, right? It was small! It would be silly not to take it, quite frankly, and he slipped it into his pocket as quietly as he could when he was sure no one else was looking. 

Now, if only he could find some blueprints of the tunnels... But that would be too easy, wouldn't it?

"So," Mikey said after a minute or so of them searching, and Donnie sighed internally. Of course, they couldn't expect him to stay quiet for that long. "If Raph is a snapping turtle, and me and Leo are turtle-turtles, then what kind of a turtle is Donnie?"

Donnie rolled his eyes, scowling. "Okay, well, first of all, do we really have to discuss this?" He hissed, immediately bristling. "I’d highly prefer we not address the proverbial elephant in the room, thank you! Second of all, 'turtle-turtle' is not a species."

"Yeah, but, like, we have turtle shells!" Mikey explained. "But April said yours is squishy. So what does that make you?"

Donnie sighed deeply. Talking about this made his skin itch.

"A softshell turtle, I suppose."

"A softshell?" Leo questioned, raising a brow. "That's a thing?"

"Yes."

"How do you know that off the top of your head?" Raph questioned.

"Some of us actually paid attention during biology classes," he responded dryly. And having a near-photographic memory did, admittedly, help as well…

"Whoa!" Mikey absolutely beamed. "That's so cool! Now we just gotta figure out what kind of turtles me and Leo are!"

"Well, I'd look it up if we had any service. And also if it was even close to being an appropriate time for us to waste our efforts on something like that," Donnie said with a roll of his eyes. He knew that Mikey was just distracting himself, finding a silver lining so he didn’t break down, but Donnie didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to think about how much of their entire lives was completely fabricated, about how--

He snorted, suddenly doubling over with laughter.

"What?" April questioned, raising a brow.

"I just-- I just realized!" Donnie laughed. "Our... our moms must be turtles! Fucking turtles!"

There was a beat of silence as this sunk in before Raph gave a similar reaction. "Damn! I guess you're right, huh?"

"Do you have any idea how much time I wasted in therapy talking about this?" Donnie squeaked out through giggles. "I spent so much time with Mossy talking about our mom and how she didn't want us or whatever the fuck and about the stuff she did to Dad and how I couldn't remember her, and she-- she was never even real! None of that ever even happened! She was just a fucking turtle, wasn't she!? We don’t even have a real mom!"

"Whoa! Mind... blown. I didn't even think about that..." Mikey gaped, his eyes wide. "This whole time I just assumed that our mom was probably the hotel lady..."

"Yeah, me too," Leo agreed.

Donnie blinked.

"You what?"

"Well, you know, that woman that Dad was datin’ right before he disappeared," Raph said. "And she runs the Grand Nexus Hotel, right? All the articles I ever read always mentioned her."

Donnie's eyes twitched. "You thought she was our mother?" He questioned.

"Well, that's who Dad was datin’ last! And for a long time, too. It'd make sense, wouldn't it?" Raph defended.

"Yeah. You didn't think that?" Leo said.

"NO! Why would I think that?!" Donnie was laughing again.

Leo huffed in offense, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm sorry, do you know something we don't?"

"Apparently!" Donnie exclaimed. "Guys, you've seen pictures of her, right?!"

"Well, yeah?" Mikey tilted his head to the side.

"She's pale as fuck!"

"So?"

"And our Dad is Japanese!"

"And? Donnie, what's your point?"

"We're black!"

"... Ooooohhhhh," all three of his brothers said, nearly in unison, after Donnie's argument finally sunk in.

"Oh my god," Donnie laughed, covering his face with his hands, scrubbing tears from his eyes. "You're all so fucking dumb..."

"I guess our mom would have had to be black. I mean. We got the Japanese half from Dad, but... I never really thought about where the other half came from..." Raph admitted, his mouth still slightly agape like he was still rolling the thought about in his head. 

"Wait a minute," April said, her hands on her hips. "I mean, yeah, all that makes sense, but if you guys have secretly been turtles this whole time, then why are you black?"

"Dude, are all turtles black?" Mikey questioned, his eyes widening.

"I cannot discuss this any further. I'll get a migraine and furthermore cease to function, as I am, and I cannot stress this enough, just barely suppressing the gravity of this whole situation right now," Donnie sighed, gesturing to himself as he turned back to the desk in front of him. "Did anyone find anything yet?"

"Not yet," April sighed, shuffling through some papers. "What even is all this junk?"

"I'm not sure. Some sort of research, it seems like..." Donnie mused, sort of thumbing through a book as he spoke, reading key phrases and chunks of text as quickly as he could and making mental notes so he could refer back to it later. He was more than happy to have something else to focus on, though this would admittedly be a lot easier with human hands. "But I'm still not sure where--"

Shhhh shhhh.

Donnie paused mid-sentence, his brows furrowed. He hadn't noticed that sound before now. He tilted his head a bit to the side, turning in its direction, trying to zero in.

"... Donnie?"

"What's that noise?" He questioned aloud, though his voice was barely above a whisper.

Shhhh shhhhh.

He knew that noise. He recognized it. Where had he heard it before?

Shhhh shhhhh.

... Water, he realized with a start. The noise was running water. Of course. How had he never realized this before?...

That's what he was hearing. That's what he had heard.

"Dee? You good?"

"Guys," he said, turning just enough to glance over in their direction. His face suddenly felt like glass. It was odd. "I think... I think we're in the sewer," he said. "... And I think we've been here before...?"

Before anyone could say anything further, a new noise filled up the space.

Skrrrtttccchhhhh.

---

"What was that?!" Mikey shrieked, immediately leaping behind his biggest brother to hide. Leo and Donnie were instantly gravitating to each other as well, falling into stance on instinct as they stood back to back, each covering the other. 

"It sounds like something scratching," April said thoughtfully, and true to her word, the same skritching noise clawed its way through the air a moment later, echoing slightly against the walls. "I think it's coming from over here!"

"April!" Raph hissed off a protest as she took off, heading in the direction of the sound. "We don't know what that is!"

"We will if we go look!" She chirped in reply. I mean, come on, what was the benefit of hiding over here instead of investigating? Weren't they curious either way? Besides, they were stuck here regardless-- maybe they'd find something helpful.

The noise continued as April searched, peering around corners and down tunnels, until, finally, she found her prize. Tucked inside one of the off-shoot tunnels, one of the many dead-ends that seemed to surround this space, was a proverbial treasure trove. A variety of odds and ends filled the space; various amulets and scrolls and chests and even weapons were leaned up against the wall or stacked up on the ground. In fact, a lot of weapons were in here. Was this some kind of a weird armory? Or a trophy room? What kind of sewer has a trophy room?

But most interestingly, she found the source of the noise. Inside a small, dimly lit orb, looking as though it were made of some sort of glass, or perhaps even light, was one of the oddest creatures April had ever seen, clawing sadly at the surface of its prison. It had ears like a chihuahua, pointed and too big for its head, with tufts of fur poofing out from inside, but huge eyes like some kind of a cat. Pointed tusks stuck from its mouth like a boar, but soft, downy yellow-and-blue fur covered its entire, squirrel-like body, complete with a fluffy, wriggly tail.

"AW, you guyyssss!" She called out. "Come look! It's cute!"

"April!" The guys were right behind her, with Raph leading the charge. "You can't just run off like-- jumpin' jack flash! What the heck is that thing?!"

"I dunno!" April said with a shrug, immediately making her way into the room, scooping up the orb so she could examine it, looking for a way to open it up. The little critter inside pattered about excitedly, its claws clicking against the smooth surface. "Help me figure out how to get him outta here."

"Are you sure about that?" Leo questioned. "No offense, but we have nooo idea what that thing is! Maybe it's, I dunno, locked up for a reason?"

"What? C'mon, guys, we've gotta help!" Mikey protested, turning on them with big, pleading eyes. Nice, April thought, with Mikey on her side she had basically already won. Suck it, middle children. "Plus, he was locked up by Draxum. So he can't be bad!"

"Yeah! Ever heard ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend?’" April added in.

"I'm not convinced," Donnie said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I mean, has anyone else noticed that pretty much everything else in this room is a weapon of some kind? Isn't that maybe a bit telling?"

"Aw, come on, Dee. Look at this face!" April insisted, holding up the orb to the others. The creature, to their credit, played their part, pulling an absolutely pitiful face which Mikey immediately echoed, turning to his brothers with watery eyes. 

Checkmate.

"Okay, okay, fine. Look, there's gotta be something in here that can help us bust him out..." Leo muttered, beginning to pick his way through the contents of the room with Raph, Donnie, and Mikey following suit shortly after. 

"Here, what about these?" Leo said after a moment, turning to face them with a pair of twin katanas in hand. "Think I could slice that bad boy open with these guys?"

April scoffed, clutching the orb close to her chest. "Uhm, and this guy in half, maybe!" She protested. "Can we try something a little less deadly, please?"

"Aw, come on! These are cool," Leo protested, grinning as he twirled them in his hands with a metallic shwing.

"You just like them because you always win at any swordsmanship event at tournaments," Donnie remarked dryly, grabbing a long wooden staff to hold in his hands, testing the weight of it. "... That being said, should we maybe grab some of these just in case?"

"Whaddya mean?" Raph glanced over at the other.

"Well, we haven't even made it to the Hidden City yet, and we've already been attacked once," Donnie reasoned, placing a hand on his hip and frowning. "So it wouldn't exactly be a bad idea to have some weapons on hand in case of an emergency." He spun the bo staff in his hands appraisingly a few times. "I mean, obviously this is a bit underwhelming, but I'm sure I could make some improvements once we got back home..."

"Sounds like a good plan to me! Look at all the stuff they’ve got!” Mikey cheered, immediately diving in, beginning to sort through all the various options they had in the room. He chuckled darkly, swinging a pair of nun-chucks in his hands. “These’ll do…”

“Yo, guys!” Raph called, waving to get his brothers’ attention before pointing to the very far corner of the room. “If we’re gonna take stuff, why don’t we take the glowy ones?”

There was, in fact, a weapons rack filled with floating, vaguely glowing weapons, tucked away in the shadows, which only made the glow all that much more tempting. They were simply begging to be taken.

Mikey and Leo, almost in unison, gasped, their faces absolutely lighting up as they raced over to join Raph. “Ooh, dibs on the sword!” Leo cheered, immediately snatching up the odachi and repeatedly striking poses.

“Hot soup! Check me out!” Mikey snatched up a bright orange kusari-fundo, absolutely beaming ear-to-ear. Raph was nearly drooling as he laid his claim on a pair of tonfas, beaming as he gave a few experimental swings. 

“They’re perfect! No one’ll mess with us now!”

“What about you, Donnie?” April questioned, tilting her head back to glance at the remaining brother. “Don’t you want a glowy weapon?”

“And add yet another unknown, uncontrolled variable to our current situation? I’m good,” Donnie scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’ve trained with a regular, wooden bo staff. I’ll fight with a wooden bo staff, thank you very much. You all have fun with your likely-radioactive weaponry,” he said, waving them off. 

“Here, April, I got something for you, too,” Mikey chirped excitedly, scampering over to present his find to her. “Ta-da!!! Baseball bat!”

It wasn’t a baseball bat-- it was a club. But close enough! April gasped in delight. “It’s perfect!” She enthused, immediately snatching it up, rolling it around in her hands and tapping it against the side of her shoe a few times. Ooh, and the weight was perfect, too. “And I think it can help us get little guy out of this ball thingie, too! Leo, come hold it still for me!”

 "Aw man, why do I gotta hold it?" Leo muttered in complaint but did as he was told regardless, kneeling down to hold the orb steady, taking care in the placement of his hands to minimize the chances of broken fingers.

 "Alright," April said, backing up a bit, her tongue sticking out from between her lips with focus. "This won't hurt a bit..." 

She swung the club back, taking care to temper her strength, and brought it down on the little ball prison with a satisfying crunch. 

"Did it work?" Mikey gasped, his eyes wide as he leaned over. The orb was not shattered nor laying in pieces; but the side of it had caved in considerably, a spiderweb of cracks blossoming from it, and a second later, it simply dissolved as if it had never been there in the first place. The creature that had previously been trapped inside cracked one eye open, having squeezed itself into the very back of its cage, flinching at the oncoming impact, gave an absolute trill of excitement, darting about in celebration.

"There we go!" April said, grinning wide, her hands planted on her hips. "See, told ya I'd get you outta there! That's better, right?"

The little yellow beast threw itself into her lap, wriggling with joy and nuzzling at her with an enthusiastic wag of its tail. "Okay, okay! You're welcome!" April laughed, giggling as she allowed the creature to clamber about in her arms, allowing it time to bounce about before it finally began to settle again.

"Any chance you know how to get out of here, little guy?"

---

Raph looked up from his phone and his tea at the sound of mail plopping down on the table, glancing over to examine the letters his father had just tossed over in his direction.

"For you," Dad remarked, sorting through the remaining mail from the day.

"For me?" Raph echoed, his brows rising up. "Who the heck is sending me mail?" Curiosity took hold immediately, and he abandoned the wrestling video he had been watching previously in favor of tearing open the letters on the table.

He was surprised to find college brochures inside. His father, however, did not seem all that surprised at all, even adding a couple more to the pile.

"It seems you are in high demand," Dad teased, smiling the tiniest bit. "I have received a few emails as well from recruiters recently."

Raph paused for a moment, rolling this idea about in his brain, trying to figure out what it meant and what it tasted like before he forced a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"Guess they haven't seen my grades yet," he joked weakly. Dad hummed softly, pulling up a chair so he could sit down next to his eldest son.

"Nonsense," he scoffed. "Your grades are fine, Raphael. You've simply tricked yourself into thinking they're not by comparing yourself to others," he added, giving the other a knowing look. "And besides that, this is hardly the only thing that matters. I have told you many times that grades aren't everything. My grades in high school were terrible!" He remarked with a laugh. "And your career in sports is very impressive."

"I guess," Raph said, wrinkling his nose up a bit as he leaned over the table. Easy for him to say. He had a hard time wrapping his head around the idea of colleges being interested in him when his three younger brothers were right here in the same damn house! Had they really meant to send these to Hamato Raphael?

Dad's hand moved to rub little circles into his back, and he nudged his son's teacup a bit. Raph agreeably took a sip, allowing the warm liquid to trickle down through his chest.

"I know you have not always enjoyed schoolwork, Raphael," Dad finally spoke again. "But you are not stupid. You may very well have the most common sense of any of my children!" He chuckled. "And you have many talents besides that. You are a remarkable athlete, and I know I do not have to drag you over to the trophy wall to prove this to you, but I will if I have to. You are only sixteen and you are already the captain of multiple sports teams... not just anyone could handle that! It is difficult to lead a team. But you have always handled this with grace. And teaching children! That is a talent in and of itself. That is no easy task. Trust me, I know," he said, smiling slightly. "But you are doing so well with your new job. And I am very proud of you."

 Raphael glanced over at his father, for just a moment, hesitating like he wanted to say something, but then biting it back.

"You don't have to go to college if you don't want to," Dad added. "If you decide that is not the path for you, that is fine. I won't be upset or disappointed. I did not go to college, either! But I would hate for you to not even consider it just because you don't think you're good enough for it," he pressed. "I know you've always said you intend to pursue a career in sports of some kind, but this is very much an avenue to achieve that if you'd like. Many professional athletes get their start through college sports, you know. And I can already name half a dozen universities off the top of my head who would be thrilled to have you on their team in a couple of years!"

He sighed softly.

"But you do not have to decide right now, my son. There is still plenty of time for you to consider all of your options."

Raph glanced over at his father, shifting a bit in his seat, before looking to the side.

"Uh. I dunno, Pops. I mean. I'm not good at tests and all that junk. I mean. College football could be good 'n all, but, uh..."

He hesitated a second, sort of scratching the side of his jaw, hesitating a bit. "I dunno. Maybe I could... I mean. We could look at it, at least. I was kind of wonderin’ about, uh. I dunno… Just, lately, I was thinkin' about... studyin' early childhood education, maybe?..."

[ next ]

#sorrywhatnowau #sorrywhatnowau fic #rottmnt #rottmnt fanfic #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt au #rottmnt human au #tmnt

[genericpuff]

Why is the art so unappealing in lore Olympus now Persephone looks like a highlighter and maybe it’s just me but the proportions like the fingers in arms are soul over the place I don’t think they used to be this bad. Am I just looking at it with nostalgia or am I crazy ?

Honestly, nostalgia does play a huge part in it, even to this day there are times I look back on old S1 panels and go-

Actually here's a great example that literally just happened yesterday in the ULO Discord that nearly had me on the floor LOL This is from Episode 70:

Like I didn't even believe that that was real until I was told what episode it was from and I was just. Astounded and flabbergasted. The over-shading of the blanket that just makes it look like a really bad edit. Insane.

And yeah, there are a lot of old panels that hit different now that the rose-colored glasses have been removed, crushed, and thrown into the trash compactor.

I think that's why it makes it all the more amusing when people come into my inbox and ask me "wait, why did you like LO to begin with?? It's always been ugly as shit, I think you're just romanticizing it" because like... there's something to be said about art and subjectivity, even if something is ugly to one person doesn't mean it isn't beautiful to someone else. It's why I try not to be too mean towards the fans of this comic for still enjoying it, because while I definitely have strong opinions about how "LO has gotten worse" and what kind of following Rachel has cultivated (cough cough), there are also just as equally valid arguments that LO has never begin good to begin with that I can't necessarily disagree with now that I'm looking back on it with a more critical eye.

That said, there's tons of media that I enjoy that is objectively awful. Like y'all, you don't need to take my opinions about a dumb pink x blue fantasy romance comic seriously, I like Starfox Adventures-

Like yeah it's a badly made rushed piece of shit that was developed right on the ass end of Rare's glory days and was really an original IP (Dinosaur Planet) that got Frankenstein'd into a Starfox game so it could "sell better" for Nintendo, but I don't give a fuck, I love Starfox Adventures and some day I wanna be in the top 10 speedrunner leaderboards for it, which I know doesn't mean much because no one is speedrunning Starfox, but I do and no one can take that away from me dammit-

Anyways. Lore Olympus has, in many regards, always had "bad art". But "bad art" can and should still be enjoyed by those who find joy in it.

And in LO's case, the world it existed in when it launched was a lot smaller than it is now - more specifically, the world of Webtoons. We can look back and see how 'bad' LO looks and reads now because there are genuinely way better comics surrounding it. It was unique and refreshing and experimental back then... now it's just "that stupid blue and pink comic for horny teenagers".

In most cases I would consider that "cringing in hindsight" feeling a good thing because normally it means something has grown and that it seeming "bad" in hindsight would mean that it's outgrown itself and moved onto bigger things. But LO has the more unique problem of "its current stuff is shit and it's making us want the old stuff more, even if the old stuff wasn't good either". In that regard, LO is closer to being like Harry Potter. Remember when The Cursed Child came out at the height of Rowling being exposed for being a TERF and even people who liked Harry Potter didn't like The Cursed Child because it was just objectively worse overall (with or without Rowling's bullshit attached)? It made a lot of people go back and re-read / rewatch Harry Potter with a more objective lens and go "wait a minute guys, I think we only adored these books so much because we were 12 when we read them". Often times it's the good memories we have surrounding certain things that make us have the opinion about them that we do.

Of course, LO is definitely not as politically weaponized as Harry Potter is, so that's where that comparison ends. But my point is that LO is definitely in a situation where it's been riding off the same privileges it had back in 2018 - having an 'experimental' art style while also utilizing tropes and characters that were VERY popular at the time (remember that 2017-18 was when Tumblr was at its height of H x P "Hades was a chill accountant guy who wore socks and sandals and didn't cheat on his wife like Zeus did" fantasizing) - and thinks that those same tricks and tropes will still work today.

Because of this, the art in LO really, really hasn't aged well, even the stuff that we look back on fondly. But I think it's the panels that we specifically think of when remembering "old LO" - the ones that stuck in our memories the most - that are the ones that make us miss or just not care about the panels that don't look good (the panels that make people question why we ever liked it to begin with).

We liked it because of how it made us feel to look at panels like these-

Those genuinely wonderful panels that we think back on the most don't exist separately from the bad panels, they exist in spite of them. Even if we can look back on panels like these and pick out problems in the lineart or the proportions or the color travelling outside of the lines, that can't and shouldn't change how those panels made us feel at some point or another. And that's why when people ask me "why were you even into LO in the first place" I don't have any one answer, because I can't fully explain how something made me feel to justify why it's good to someone who can see from the outside - without rose-colored glasses - that it evidently isn't. It's very much a "you had to be there" type of thing.

Unfortunately, nowadays even the 'best' LO panels in S3 still don't come close to what the S1 panels accomplished - because for many of us, the rose-colored glasses are gone, we can't appreciate the good among the bad because we know now how bad it truly is and so the good just feels like wasted attempts at trying to recreate something it can no longer be. It "came back wrong" so to speak.

LO came back just regular. But our journey to resurrecting it changed us to such a degree that even its closest intimacies are now foreign to us. Sorry dude.

This is still probably one of my favorite panels out of the entirety of S3 for being as close to "old LO" as I've seen since S2, and even it feels like a mistake, an accident, how could a panel like this exist in S3 when so much of it is a dumpster fire? It's like a flower growing in the ruins of an apocalyptic wasteland.

But wasn't that always the case? Isn't that 'always' what LO has been, since the very beginning? A poorly cobbled together mess of writing and panels that, every now and then, manages to leave an impression that makes you feel something? Did we ever truly know LO? Or have we just been relying entirely on an idea of it that we've built up in our heads that when it does do exactly what it's evidently always done (even if not made apparent until looking back on it in hindsight) we think it "came back wrong"?

#anyways sorry that was a way deeper response than it oughta have been #welcome to the AMA roulette game of “ask puff a simple question which they may or may not respond to with an introspective essay" #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #antiloreolympus #ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything

[gffa]

Okay, not to defend Gotham War or anything, but I think I'm talking myself into liking what I see it's trying to do. Starting with some great tags on this post:

#i get why people are hating on it i really really do. trust me#but TO BE FAIR... zdarsky has been making it overwhelmingly clear that bruce is SERIOUSLY unwell right now#like it's been nonstop Horrors for him for like. over a dozen issues straight. with no rest or time to process. and he doesn't have alfred#who was a HUGE part of his support system not to mention the finances etc etc#iirc there's even a panel that pretty much outright states that this is more of an issue of control than morality#and that includes the choosing sides thing like the batkids seem more concerned w how bruce is going off the fucking rails than#just the moral aspects#anyway (via @clownprince)

#Batman#Bruce Wayne#REAL#REAL REAL REAL#LIKE. Zur En Arrh is a LITERAL Defense Mechanism going Malignant at this point#Not only that but throughout Zdarsky's run there's been allusions to illnesses and Bruce Not Having A Good Time#Not Having a Good Time and Not Having Time At All to take stock of the sheer What The Fuck-ery that's been going on recently#Because it's been a CONSTANT steam of What The Fuck-ery nonstop#And the Worse is yet to come if one considers the future issues synopsis and the ''I am a Gun'' story by Zdarsky#(At most I'm a little bit concerned over how Zdarsky will try to wrap this up‚ but that's a normal concern especially about Comics)#(Especially Batman Comics considering how often Editorial likes to... do things) (via @kaosvrow)

I agree with so much of the criticism of Gotham War, especially that the arguments for or against Selina's plans are absolute garbage by characters who should be making better arguments and that the other characters are being used as bobbleheads instead of actually giving them their canon personalities--and, okay, I will also point out that in the VERY FIRST ISSUE, Selina's plan gets someone killed and so I'm willing to extend some grace that the story isn't trying to push forward that either way is actually right, I honestly don't think it's about that. I think it's a story about Bruce Wayne's mental state, because Zdarsky's been building this up for awhile now, like the issue immediately prior to Knight Terrors? Shows us Bruce's mental state is ALREADY absolute TRASH right then:

Zur-En-Arrh was already leaking through the seams of his mind, he was already feeling the impending doom of everything he cared about being burned away, that his mind literally couldn't watch his kids being happy and together and getting along without feeling like it was all burning to ash.

And then Knight Terrors happened, which was one more thing digging hard, boney fingers into his trauma, and he handled it pretty well in the moment, but it's such a giant, non-stop pile of stress on a mind that is already damaged to hell and back because of his trauma.

Further, the very first issue of the Gotham War storyline? The very first panel, the one that sets up the stage of what's going to happen, makes a very clear point about how this is about Bruce fracturing:

And then on the very next page, Zur-En-Arrh is literally stalking at the bars of the cage around Bruce's mind.

And then Bruce wakes up and it's immediately more establishing just how worried everyone is about him because so much has been piled on lately:

Bruce hides his missing hand from his family, just like he's trying to hide how scraped thin he is right now, and goes out on patrol.

Where his internal monologue is all about how defensive he feels lately, how he feels like the years are catching up to him, how nothing feels right but this, making it clear that Bruce is hanging onto Batman with a death grip because it's the only thing that feels stable to him right now.

And all of this is in the first TEN PAGES of the first issue, this is our set-up, this is our foundation, this is what we're being given to understand what this story is about. Then Batman #137 happens and it's literally ALL ABOUT BRUCE'S MENTAL SPACE, that Selina's plan is the catalyst, not the driving point behind all of it. Again, I'm in 100% agreement that the Batkids are acting like cardboard cutouts because you will never get me to believe that they didn't notice crime going down or that they wouldn't be pointing out that Gotham's wealthy are just going to start making their security lethal in response or that the Court of Owls won't step in, that this is not a long term solution to giving these people lives beyond crime, or even that a lot of them should be agreeing with Bruce, that they don't get to decide who is an acceptable victim. But the story isn't really about changing up the way comics deal with crime, it's about even the Batkids are framing it in terms of how it's about Bruce. Jason is really the only one who seems onboard with trying out Selina's plan, but even his confrontation with Bruce isn't really about that, it's about all their baggage, their fight immediately becomes about how angry Jason is at the way Bruce has treated him. This fight isn't happening because Jason's a true believer in Selina's plan, it's happening because he's angry at Bruce and Bruce is in a shitty mental place, after all the non-stop horrors AND feeling like he's been betrayed by the kids who he thought understood that people being victims wasn't acceptable, and so he lashes out at Jason.

When they fight, it's not because they're siding against Bruce, it's because he's become unstable and dangerous. The why of it doesn't matter, it's not about that.

(And I'm actually okay with the way that fight happened because I can buy that, for example, Cass might be holding back against him, she's a stronger fighter than he is, but he's being ruthless because of the state he's in, while she might be feeling more cautious.) When they fight, it's not because they're siding against Bruce, it's because he's become unstable and dangerous. The why of it doesn't matter, it's not about that. Even further, when Bruce fights against his kids, he's wrong and biased, especially in the fight with Dick, who he thinks has a sloppy offensive and doesn't know darkness like he does--to which Dick just immediately cracks him in the face because, yeah, Dick Grayson does know darkness and Bruce isn't as untouchable as he's trying to make himself seem (because being Batman is all he has right now).

I think it's important that it's Dick who defies his expectations here, because this story is building off context of what happened between Selina and Bruce, that they were truly together for awhile, they were about to get married--Selina mentions that it the first issue, it's a major thorn in that conversation when she throws out how she doesn't believe that Gotham needs Batman anymore, it needs her.

She's giving him what he said he always wanted, she's giving him the thing that kept them apart, he should be happy, should they head to the church now? Saying that he won't because he wants to be Batman more than he wants to solve the city's problems.

The failed wedding between them is important in part because of what Selina's saying here, illustrating that both of them are bringing a lot of baggage to the table but also because of what else happened during that storyline, why the context is so important. Because that storyline dovetailed into one about Bane wanting to take over Gotham and he needed Batman unstable and distracted, which was working after Selina left him at the altar, he was a mess. But you know what was saving him at the time, bringing him back from the ledge? THIS KID:

Dick was the one poking and prodding at Bruce with jokes and warmth and care and it was working. He actually got Bruce to cry in front of him, to release some actual genuine emotion!

Dick makes Bruce more emotionally stable, to the point that Bane had to hire KGBeast to shoot Dick in the head just because he was so good at stabilizing Bruce--this is also why Dick's the one who says he'll go talk Bruce down off his moral ledge in Batman #137.

So, it's Dick that has to be the one to defy his expectations in the fight, has to be the one who breaks through Bruce's offense and knocks him down in what feels like a betrayal even when it isn't, because this isn't a story about who's right and who's wrong, it's a story about Bruce isolating himself because he's mentally fractured to hell and back, because he's not trusting his kids, he's still hurt by Selina leaving him, he's still grieving Alfred's death, he's run ragged physically and emotionally and mentally by a series of exhausting horrors piled on him, he's lost his family's fortune, he's not even living in his own family home anymore. (I focus on Dick here as an illustration of tying this back to previous examples of Bruce crumbling and important context that the storyline is drawing on, but Gotham War isn't really specifically about Bruce and Dick's relationship, but more about Bruce's relationship with all his kids, like Tim and Jason and Damian all have equally important moments. But it's a very direct example of how his children are a huge part of his support system and draw him back from the ledge of being just Batman and back into being Bruce.) That's why the issue ends with Bruce getting the papers telling him that the bank sold Wayne Manor to Vandal Savage, because it's one more thing that's stripping Bruce Wayne away from the character, and leaving him with nothing but Batman and Zur-En-Arrh. Gotham War isn't actually a story about a war for Gotham. It's a story about Bruce Wayne going out of control and everything is written to serve that. The characters' fights are catalyzed by Selina's plans, but they quickly become about Bruce's relationship with the characters. The narrative makes heavy-handed points about Bruce feeling like he's losing his grip, that he's hallucinating and talking to himself, that he is extremely mentally unwell right now. Everything Zdarsky's been writing (like especially the "I Am a Gun" storyline right before Knight Terrors) has been building up to fracturing Bruce Wayne.

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #selina kyle #gotham war #long post #feral gremlin length post

[writerblue275]

How Heartsteel would act when they are tipsy. (18+)

Let me say this right off the bat: PLEASE DRINK RESPONSIBLY (AND ONLY IF YOU’RE OF LEGAL AGE TO BE DRINKING). BE KIND TO YOUR LIVERS AND FOLLOW LAWS Y’ALL.

(Seriously drinking too much is not fun. Either while you’re drinking, or the day after. I once learned the hard way in college that I become extremely emotional if I have a bit much and it’s just straight up not a good time. I still drink, but very occasionally and not much.)

Inspiration: Now all that being said……I’d love to have a drink or two with the Heartsteel members. I think that would be so fun!

Champions: Heartsteel

Genre: Headcanon

Type: Fluff (I’m still saying this is 18+ only. I’m American so technically the legal drinking age where I am is 21, but I know for a lot of places around the world the legal age to drink is 18.)

Gender: Gender Neutral Reader

TW: We’re talking about alcohol use in this one. Mention of a drinking game or two. Mention of sobriety. Swearing.

Aphelios

If you want a calm, chill, but still fun night, Aphelios is the guy to drink with. 100/10 vibes and I’m all here for it.

This is when he’d use more sign language to communicate. (I’m imagining tipsy Phel signing incredibly cheesy pick up lines to his partner and I’m OBSESSED.)

And you know how words can start to slur when people get tipsy? That concept maybe translates into his sign language juuuuust a little bit. Maybe a slightly sloppy sign here or there. But you know him well enough that you know what he’s trying to say.

And while he’s not super touchy, when he’s tipsy, he’s definitely staying connected to you somehow.

Either through linked hands/pinkies, an arm around you, or just some other way of him keeping connected to you.

You two turn into the parent couple a little bit, making sure everyone, including yourselves, is staying safe and hydrated. Aphelios might be mischievous and like pranks, but he knows when it’s time to be more serious, and keeping everyone safe when alcohol is involved is definitely a time to be more serious. (Surprise surprise, you might have thought Yone would be the parent but he’s already the band mom sober. The man needs a break. Out of the other members, I actually think Phel could wrangle people pretty well.)

Ezreal

Ezreal would be such a fun person to drink with just in general, but especially as your S/O. He’s energetic, fun, generally positive. In my experience, those people make for enjoyable beverage buddies (alcoholic or not). He’s the life of any party (#1).

He’s also a lightweight. Absolutely no question in my mind. He’s not a large man by any means. (I love this teeny pop prince.)

It doesn’t matter if the two of you have been together for years, once he’s tipsy, he’s pulling out all his best (read: cheesy as fuck) pick up lines and using them on you.

“Hey, my name is Microsoft. Can I crash at your place tonight?” “Ez, we’ve been dating for over a year.” “Yes we have. And? Can I not flirt with my own partner?” “…Ok that’s very sweet, please continue.” (He always manages to make you blush and make it feel like the first time you met him.)

Only uses them on you though. As flirty as Ez can be, this green bean is LOYAL to you. Only you get his flirty side. Anyone else tries flirting with him and they get some truly bombastic side eye.

Otherwise Ezreal’s just really fun to chat with or play drinking games with. The absolute best beer pong partner. There’s no one more accurate. And unless you’re sitting out a round, he’ll always ask you to be his #2. It doesn’t matter how good or bad you are. When you do sit out and he plays, there’s always an argument about who gets to be his partner. The next best player is Sett, who is also very good, so there’s a house rule that the two of them can’t be on a team together 😂.

Kayn

I was struggling to figure out how to describe Kayn while drinking, and now I realize why I was struggling so very much…

Plot twist: Kayn is sober. (Shoutout to anyone on a sobriety journey, for whatever reason. I have so much respect for you. Our society loves to glorify alcohol and drinking culture, so for those who actively choose to go against that, props to you.)

I genuinely don’t think he drinks at all. Maybe he did in the past but he doesn’t currently. Rock stars historically haven’t always had the best relationship with substances. This could be one of those situations where he realized he didn’t like who he was when he drank.

Kayn is self-aware enough to know he’s already fairly impulsive and a little wild while sober. Alcohol added to that mix wasn’t helping anything. So he stopped and surrounded himself with a network of people that fully support his decision (that ofc includes you and the other Heartsteel members).

Now all of that being said, Kayn still likes to enjoy himself. He’s a fan of fancy beverages, even if they’re non-alcoholic, so he’s always getting a mocktail or a non-alcoholic beer (I’m really glad to see bartenders/companies starting to include NA options. Listen, sometimes I just want to feel fancy and sip a fun beverage that doesn’t have alcohol in it). Having something to sip on makes Kayn feel involved even if he’s the only one in a group that doesn’t have an alcoholic beverage.

Now even though he doesn’t drink, don’t think he’s a spoilsport. Even without alcohol he is a very fun person to be around, so when you’re out with him you’ll still have a great night filled with some shenanigans, fun talks, and laughter.

K’Sante

I’m not kidding when I say I want to have a drink with Heartsteel K’Sante so badly and I’m genuinely a little sad I cannot. I want to pick his brain. I’ve said it before but I get great vibes from him. To me, it’s very easy to see why he’s one of the co-leaders of Heartsteel.

Absolutely gets philosophical/goes into deep conversations when he drinks and those people are SO FUN TO BE AROUND. A perfect companion for someone who might be a little more introverted since he’d be focused only on you and he’d maybe take you somewhere a little quieter so you can hear each other.

I feel like it’s very easy to lose track of time when you’re talking with K’Sante. Like you look down at your phone/watch and an hour has passed just like that while the two of you chat and sip on your drinks.

These deep conversations can be about anything too. Maybe about literature that you’ve both read, dissecting their music with a close eye, discussing the meaning of life, or even him listening to you discuss your problems and offering you advice if you want it.

And even if the topics of discussion are deep, K’Sante is still making things light hearted. He never wants to cause you to not enjoy your evening.

In between discussions of deeper topics, he’s cracking some jokes or telling you funny stories about himself, his family, or the other members of Heartsteel. Whatever is being discussed, the overall vibe with K’Sante is very safe and fun. When you have a drink with him, settle in and enjoy a fun night talking about anything and everything.

Sett

Oh my god Sett would be so fun to have a drink with. He absolutely gives off “life of the party” vibes (#2) and I absolutely love that for everyone around him. Hell he gives off those vibes without alcohol.

This is going to be so damn specific: Sett gives me slight frat bro vibes BUT IN THE VERY BEST WAY!! (I SWEAR I mean this as a compliment!)

When I was in university/undergrad, I was in a sorority. (Hehe surprise! I’m definitely not the stereotypical sorority girl.) Because of this I am familiar with fraternities and frat bros. While generally I don’t have a high opinion of them, there was one frat on campus that was actually awesome. Their guys were safe/fun to be around, respectful, and kind (a lot of them were athletes so they knew they better behave if they wanted to stay on their teams).

THAT is the kind of frat bro vibe I get from Heartsteel Sett. Ma raised him fucking right. He has manners and is incredibly respectful to those around him always. (Unless they give him reason not to be but that’s a whole different thing.)

And just like Ez, his flirty side is totally coming out, but again, only with you. I can’t imagine Sett ever being unfaithful in a relationship. Ma raised him far better then that.

And if you’re out with him and getting unwanted attention, he’s definitely sticking up for you, whether or not you’re dating him. Hell even if you’re a stranger, he’s the type to pretend to be your boyfriend/brother/friend to get you out of a situation. Just overall a 100/10 man to be around. You’ll definitely have a blast with him!

Yone (Yes his is long but listen, I have thoughts!)

This man. This man is my dark horse. There are two possible ways I see Yone acting when tipsy. 1. Completely fucking normal and alcohol doesn’t affect him like at all. 2. Turns him into a clingy koala man who is a lightweight.

Clingy koala man is far more entertaining so THAT’S WHAT WE’RE GOING WITH. I feel like it doesn’t take much for him to feel it. Part of that is, Yone wouldn’t drink that much to begin with. Maybe a glass of wine on a dinner date with you, or the occasional drink at a party, but otherwise it’s not his thing.

All this to say, when he does have something, he definitely feels it. And that’s when he’ll be glued to your side. Now obviously if you’re in public, he’s not going to be wrapped around you, but even then, he’ll link arms to walk with you, keep his hand on the small of your back, or even link pinkies with you.

Now if you two are alone? And you’re not going anywhere for the evening? Oh all bets are off. You better do everything you need to do before sitting down with him, because once you do, he’s pulling you into his lap and that is going to be your spot for the foreseeable future. (It’s like the unspoken pet rule: “if a pet is on you, you’re not allowed to move until they do” but in reverse. As long as Yone is cuddling you, you’re not allowed to move. [Like of course you’re allowed to move, especially if you need to go to the bathroom or get more comfortable. He’s not an asshole. But he just really loves holding you.])

You’re already the only person besides Heartsteel’s hair stylist Yone lets touch his hair, but when he’s tipsy? He practically leans his head into your touch until you play with his hair, sighing happily as you do. He especially loves when you braid it. (God damn I want to braid his hair so badly.)

Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! I was discussing with my friends which fictional characters we’d like to have a drink with and that’s where this idea really stemmed from. Random, but fun to think about! 💙

(Also this is just a small reminder that my requests are currently open. If you have specific ideas, send them through my asks! Just check the rules post [linked on my masterlist] first!)

#heartsteel #heartsteel headcanons #headcanon #heartsteel x reader #reader insert #heartsteel fluff #heartsteel aphelios #heartsteel ezreal #heartsteel kayn #heartsteel k'sante #heartsteel sett #heartsteel yone #league of legends headcanon

[flowery-language]

𓆩♡𓆪 STAY AWAY. Loser! Ellie Williams headcanons

a/n : I am struggling to start writing and stop procrastinating on writing the series I am working on so have some quick Ellie head canons while you wait also loser!Ellie is just regular Ellie and y’all aren’t ready for that conversation also it isn’t much sorry I’ve been struggling with procrastinating on writing got to put something out for the mean time

Inspired by seriously go read theirs @cowgirlcherrie and my one of my close friends mannerisms

Warnings/content: 18+ mentions of sex mostly fluff and also Ellie is a loser and cursing fingering!receiving masturbating and mentions of face riding

ੈ✩‧₊˚ you met loser!Ellie in Highschool and you bonded your intense overwhelming hatred for the people at your school over how much you hated everyone else here and that your the only person she could tolerate

“Everyone here are fucking npc’s with no capacity for thinking for themselves”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Loser!Ellie definitely owns a women love me fish fear me shirt that she started wearing ironically until it wasn’t anymore

ੈ✩‧₊˚ she always had to make jokes about her nonexistent dick much to your annoyance she has the humor of twelve year old boy

“How about you suck 15 inch cock”

“You don’t have one” you exclaimed

“Fuck you mean women literally beg me to see it”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ loser!Ellie unironically loves family guy and American guy and and fucking loves Rick and Morty and Bojack horseman

“I know I am a lesbian but I would fuck rick Sanchez no questions asked”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ you and loser!Ellie bonded over your intense overwhelming hatred for chase Atlantic

“They sound like they are fucking singing in cursive”

“I know right thank you someone gets it”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ loser!ellie has the music taste of someone’s father and she is very unapologetic about it she listens to Radiohead, nirvana, slipknot, the cure and the Beatles. etc

“ you should listen to the cure”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ loser!Ellie got into an argument once with you because you said you liked Saturn more than Jupiter

“Jupiter or Saturn pick one”

“Uh—Saturn”

“Jupiter is fucking better”

“No it’s not I like Saturn better”

“You only like Saturn because it’s fucking pretty”

“No I don’t”

“Yes you fucking do”

“Whatever”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ loser!Ellie cannot flirt with women for shit she just infodumps to them and hopes her info would get them to like her and wanna be with her and she is lucky that she is attractive enough to pull it off

ੈ✩‧₊˚ when loser!Ellie started to develop a crush on you she would do favours and constantly try to impress you she once took you to skater park to show you the tricks she was learning she ended up falling flat on her face because she was too busy staring into your eyes and she had the biggest blush on her face when you laughed at her for it.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ By the time Loser!Ellie developed feelings for you she would go above and beyond because suddenly the concept of helping others was completely uninteresting until it was you you got your heart shattered by another girl and all she could think of is that she would never treat you that way ever.

“It’s just that I wished that she didn’t string me along for a month and actually rejected me instead of telling me she liked me back when she didn’t”

“I swear when I see that fucker in my line of vision it won’t be pretty you deserve better than her anyway you were out of her league”

“Honestly I am starting to think maybe it’s because I am not attractive enough for girls to want me”

“Don’t fucking say that you were out of her league you will find someone who treats you so good ”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ loser!Ellie always wants you to try smoking weed with her even though you very much didn’t like taking drugs or being high it’s mostly because you make her so nervous and if she was high with you she could maybe try to flirt with you without fumbling her words and not looking you in the eye.

“Come on try it for me it feels really good I promise”

“Yeah no thanks Ellie”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ she knew that she couldn’t keep this to herself anymore she wanted you and Every time you tried to date someone else it made her genuinely sick to her stomach.

“ oh fuck saying this shit isn’t easy but I gotta say it I like you okay I really really do”

“Your fucking with me right now if your joking Ellie it’s not funny”

“I am not joking I fucking do okay”

“Wait your not”

“Of course I am not”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ NSFW section

ੈ✩‧₊˚ you are always the first person she thinks of when she gets high late at night she has to resist the urge to call you over her hand in her boxers.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Loser!Ellie has a happy trail.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ she loves it when you ride her face and not just hovering she wants you to sit on it at first you were really nervous and insecure but she was a having the time of her life and Everytime you do hover she would beg you sit properly

“Babe please just sit stop fucking hovering”

ੈ✩‧₊˚she loves it when you ride her thighs she loves the sensory experience of you riding it and when you ride her fingers she always wishes to be inside you and feel it when you ride it

ੈ✩‧₊˚ she is obsessed with you wearing her clothes especially her boxers she loves giving them to you

“You’re gonna run out of boxers to wear if you keep this up”

“I don’t fucking care”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ she loves you to death and will not hesitate to show it off she always loves mentioning you much to literally everyone’s annoyance.

“My girl is getting a PHD is so smart”

“This reminds me my girlfriend really loves these flowers I gotta get them”

#ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie willams x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie williams #ellie tlou

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

I’m not sure if you’ve ever said anything about this, but the first time I read new moon, the vote chapter, there was one bit that really stuck out:

(from Bella’s point of view) Edward grabbed my face in his hand, forcing me to look at him. His other hand was out, palm toward Carlisle. Carlisle ignored that.

Bella later went on to say it was hard to talk clearly with how Edward was holding her jaw. I don’t know if I’ve misunderstood what exactly was happening, but why did the entire family watch that and do nothing? I’ve read the metas where you’ve said it’d take a lot for Carlisle to realise what Edward really is, but surely that’s a pretty massive indicator and Carlisle actively ignored it?

Anon, you're hilarious.

An Aside in Which I Say "Look in the Mirror"

I've been running this blog for a few years now (a terrifying thought) and I'm both a) one of the most critical of Edward in this space (which is not a bad thing, mind, people are free to do what they like) b) often get asks in which I am asked by anons to justify why I think poorly of Edward.

This is on top of the thousands of metas I've written pointing out various things from canon, where I've presented many arguments, and anons still will ask me to make more arguments.

This is fandom, anon, relatively objective observers who are privy to information the characters in the story don't have. We know Bella's exact thoughts, we know how Edward has interacted with her in private, and we even know Edward's private thoughts for at least the duration of Twilight because of Midnight Sun.

AND YET, I AM HERE.

And you ask this as if it should be obvious to the most casual observer.

Back to Your Ask

I've discussed this at length in posts I'm too lazy to look up at the moment but the crux of it is that

a) Edward's a beloved family member and it's deeply hard to think ill of those we love and we want to justify their actions

b) the family doesn't see most of what goes on with Bella and are only told things by Alice and Edward with Alice being firmly on Edward's side

c) Due to his having previously had a redemption arc in which Edward came back unprompted to the diet even though it must have been not only humiliating but terrifying, Edward comes across as one of the Cullens who best understands that human life is worth protecting and just why they're all doing the diet.

This particular moment though, I'd also give Edward a pass if I was present. To touch Bella at all, to move her like this, Edward has to be extraordinarily gentle and careful. If he was at all rough with her, at all, Bella would be dead or seriously injured (with her jaw crushed between Edward's fingers, her neck snapped, etc.) Basically, for Edward to do this at all, he's being incredibly mindful and the Cullens as vampires are very aware of that.

Add onto that that Bella can speak, when this is a guy who's hand is made of stone, he has to be holding her incredibly gently from his perspective for her to be able to speak at all (and not have a broken jaw).

Also from the outside perspective, where Bella and Edward are in this romantic relationship (even though they just got out of being broken up) and they all know Edward's deeply in love with Bella, this looks like an intimate gesture than it does a "LOOK AT ME" gesture. It's not something any of them would do, or a normal person would, but they're also not dating Bella/convinced they're soulmates with her.

Add into that that they're in the middle of a very intense day, in which Edward had just tried to kill himself and is very emotionally fragile, Bella's now asking to be turned directly, the Volturi barely pardoned them, and Edward is coming unglued with the idea that Bella's going to be turned and the Cullens aren't at the top of their game.

They're just trying to get through the conversation where they tell Edward (and Rosalie) that, yes, they actually do have to turn Bella.

This doesn't register as physical violence to them, and I don't blame them for this one.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #edward cullen #anti edward cullen #bella swan #the cullens #carlisle cullen #meta #headcanon #opinion

[tubbytarchia]

Also I need to say SOMETHING because I've been tormented by this for the past few days after having been made aware but yandere Pearl makes me so upset, imo it's such a disservice to her character!! That or other interpretations that just make her out to be evil. I understand the appeal of the trope and for AUs and stuff, ofc go wild!! But that is very much not what happened in DL canon and anyone who thinks that she's only interesting with the yandere trope attached is a fake fan!! Pearl was labelled crazy and of course she leaned into it, because what else does she do? Nobody wants her, everyone believes she's lost it, so she might as well!! At the very least it serves as some intimidation that Pearl CAN use to her advantage but did she ever want to? She's not crazy for Scott, not by any stretch of the imagination. She wanted some kind of approval, or acceptance. She didn't just want Scott to herself or whatever argument people try to make and she most certainly wasn't evil or cruel. Many times when people were getting up to mischief, Pearl didn't take large part if at all even if she was there. She often played along and, yeah, she played along, like most Lifers would, no? I can see how her behaviour could be observed as obsessive when she keeps trying to settle near Scott but, I don't even know how to articulate my thoughts other than to reinforce that that wasn't her obsessing over Scott. I suppose you could view Pearl as evil depending entirely on what you classify as evil in a death game where most everyone has to kill anyway, and where a lot of people commit arson and stuff (Joel killed some Jellies, loved to bully Jimmy, retaliated having the Relationship burnt down by burning every other establishment he could, is he also evil? What makes Pearl evil? Does she just get called that more because Joel is expected to be a menace by default?), but there is so much more nuance there than some form of "she flipped on a dime in session 1 and immediately became a crazy ex after a breakup". But you know what, that's what Scott wanted people to believe and if anyone in the fandom does then I have news for you

Also I'm not trying to say that playing a villain character is bad (Scott is such a villain though not at all a plainly visible one, and he's very compelling as a character) nor am I trying to make Pearl out to be some totally innocent sweetpea. Or maybe I am. #Pearl did literally nothing wrong to warrant this (but like, art of her being girlboss and stuff goes hard still, she OWNED the scene still when she embraced the label. She was mad cool, but it's not "being evil" that makes a character mad cool)

(PS don't take this too seriously, although I do heavily disagree with this interpretation personally, I'm not police and also I love all the Lifers including Scott dearly. Reminder that this is just about the characters they play and it's reasonable for viewers to believe his story foremost if they've only watched his POV and such, I think)

#RAHHHHHHH I trust that most of you guys dont think this but if anyone still does then Im severly disappointed #I'm sure there's other older posts somewhere voicing this exact thing but #god I cannot tell you how much this has been eating away at my brain for two days straight #god I really hope this is the general consensus for people who care about traffic or DL Pearl #please god I hope. #blabber

[communistkenobi]

i know next to nothing about queer theory, but i did exist online during (what felt like) huge exclusionary periods (ace discourse, bi/pan discourse, and transmedicalism were the big ones i remember)

i wonder if the first drive for sexuality being something unchangeable and intrinsic to you had something to do with those things, that queerness was fixed and definable, which meant that there were strict lines to be drawn about who was and wasn't gay/lesbian/bi which was only made worse by trans and nonbinary people who didn't exactly fit the previous molds

ill be doubly honest and say i only interacted w/ the community online at the time bc living in a homophobic country doesnt give you a lot of opportunities to meet up in person which means my view of the whole thing is skewed. im not sure if this makes any sense

What I’m about to say isn’t a diagnosis of the causes behind those discourses (partly because i don’t think there is a single reason animating those arguments), but like I guess in general a very baseline authority people fall back on is biology. Dominant reactionary discourses describe being gay trans etc as a lifestyle choice, as an active decision to participate in sexual and gendered degeneracy, and so a very appealing counter-claim to make is to point to biology - we are born this way, we can’t help who we are just as cishet people cannot help who they are, so you should accept us because we can’t change our identity. That rhetorical strategy requires/assumes a stable sexual and gendered ontology, a primary authority of the body that can’t be altered. While I believe this argument is fundamentally flawed, I think this is a straightforwardly easy argument to make re: sexual orientation. With trans and non-binary people this is more difficult because the foundational claim to our existence is that gender is mutable, is alterable, is subject to change (and also “I’ve felt this way since I was a child” is a pathological model of gender dysphoria that is enforced through medical and psychiatric institutions, not a reflection of lived reality for many, many trans and non-binary people). That doesn’t necessarily mean being transgender is a “choice” (although if someone said they woke up one day and chose to be transgender then that is a perfectly authentic justification), especially because “choice” in these discussions is often framed as individualised, private, detached from the social world - we are all just free agents making rational autonomous decisions in a field of equally rational choices, etc. which I think is a very impoverished way to understand choice and agency. Gender is an institution, it is a set of behaviours and performances that we choose to engage in in many different ways, and my use of the word ‘choice’ there does not imply these choices are free from coercion, violence, or harm. I chose to transition, I chose to engage in performances and behaviours that signal to the social world that I am a man - where that desire to make those choices arises from is another matter, and honestly not one I’m super interested in figuring out. Like if I discovered the ‘origin’ of my transness it wouldn’t make any difference to me. Similarly, how I choose to signal masculinity is very obviously bound up in dominant gendered assumptions. Trans people get accused of upholding gendered norms a lot, but that’s only because we aren’t taken seriously unless we do so! It is a survival mechanism that allows us to better navigate incredible amounts of violence and social exclusion, and arguing that our desire to do gender with our bodies comes from some grade-school assumption that dress = woman and pants = man or whatever is pure projection on the part of cis people. cis men think if they drink pink wine they’ll become gay - trans people are not the ones enforcing these norms here.

Getting a bit far afield here, so to loop back around - I think a stable state of sexual and gendered subjectivity or “being” is very appealing to a lot of people because it’s a way to dismiss reactionary fears and to justify to yourself that your oppression is entirely out of your control (which is true obviously!). Again I think these arguments are flawed because they buy into cisgendered and heteronormative ideas about gender and sexuality, that it is a biological burden imposed on us, that deviance is not a choice, that gender is done to us as opposed to being gendered agents, that we are similarly trapped in a sexual prison and should be accepted on those grounds, etc, but they have massive rhetorical power.  

As I’ve said before I’m a pretty staunch believer in Butler’s assertion that it is social all the way down, that gender is not discoverable in the body but rather the body is the medium through which gender is done in the world. Cis people choose to do gender just as much as trans people do! The only difference is that institutional architecture is set up to facilitate and make invisible (in very misogynistic and racist ways) those gendered practices. I think the stronger counter argument to make is that cis- and het-normativities are deeply violent and miserable status quos that need to be dismantled and discarded, that true choice can only emerge vis a vis gender and sexuality once those institutions are abolished, and that choice is actually a desirable end-goal - I want people to be able to participate in gender and sexuality as free agents, as non-coercive practices that are sites of great joy and wonder and pleasure. And this world is only possible if we accept that there is no gendered or sexual ontology, that it is all smoke and mirrors, that this current system’s primary function is to reproduce the nuclear family, to maintain the hereditary nature of class and wealth and race, to provide a standardised system of labour division, to maintain a distinction between the public and private labour realms, and so on.

So again like, is this what animates discourses about who gets to be counted as lgbtq/queer/whichever label you want to use? I don’t know. Probably some of it has to do with that. Queerness is in party a pathological category that is used to describe a failure to meaningfully reproduce cishet norms and practices, it is a set of relationships you have to legal and political and medical and administrative institutions (which is especially true for trans/non binary people). I like this definition because built into it is the possibility of change - I do not want trans people to be assimilated into cishet society, I want society to become transgender, thereby making transgender an irrelevant medical and legal category of person. Much like communism aims to abolish class by universalising the proletariat, I want to abolish gender by universalising the legal and political and medical mechanisms of transition. Only then will cisgenderism be abolished.

One thing I have been thinking a lot about is something a friend said to me, which is that human rights to do not begin with a definition of human - in the same way, I think trans rights do not require a definition of transgenderism. Just universalise and de-pathologise the mechanisms through which transition is expressed. Make it easy to change your name, remove all barriers to hormones and surgery, make everyone economically secure enough that they can change their wardrobe however they please,  desegregate all gendered spaces, de-gender clothing, remove gender markers from all documents, and so on and so on. Doing so would make both cisgender and transgender an irrelevant legal and political category and, again, allow choice to emerge as a meaningful mechanism of gender expression. 

This isn’t a comprehensive policy platform, there are many things I’m sure I haven’t thought through and a large portion of this discussion has to contend with the colonial and white supremacist nature of the western binary gender (bringing us into discussions of decolonial efforts, socialist efforts, and so on), but this is already getting long and I feel like I’m rambling. But like fundamentally I believe in a radical political imaginary that argues that all of this is subject to change and therefore any arguments about an essential gendered or sexual being is, at the end of the day, a reactionary description of gender and sexuality 

#asks #even old new york was once new amsterdam #effortpost #um. hope that makes sense lol #DO NOT START ARGUING ABOUT THIS IN THE NOTES BTW. FUCK OFF I AM NOT DOING ‘DISCOURSE’ ABOUT WHO COUNTS AS LGBTQ #I reject the premise of the question genuinely I think it is fundamentally irrelevant to our liberation

[jonglo]

Hi💕 can i request a headcanon with Sehun just boyfriend things

Thanks

hi!! omg i've been wanting to do hc but i didn't know on who. also sorry it took awhile work has been beating my ass..

Sehun as your boyfriend !

Warnings: brief nsfw?? not explicit

where do I even start LMAOOO

I feel like he's the silent love type at the beginning but as the relationship continues he just can't contain it

like shy and just wanting to be near you to playful bickers and being a complete brat

he makes sure to get his way when asking you for anything.

but he will literally fold and do anything for you if you asked

the type to say no and do it anyway just to keep the "image"

you also turn into his target audience

anything to make you laugh

if hes with the members and they don't laugh at his joke. he will be telling you the story in full context just to end with the joke.

you also turn into his hitting target for when he laughs at his own jokes.

honestly i think he's the type to leave "i love you" for more intimate moments

like his texts always end with a care message rather an ily

if it's cold? "make sure to layer up"

if it's hot? "make sure to bring water"

traveling long distance? "be safe, tell me when you get there"

now this doesn't mean he doesn't say ily, its just he feels it shows more sincerity in person.

in person he definitely ends every sentence with i love you

it slips off the tongue always.

"you know i love you, right?" everyday

no literally, everyday.

so everyone knows he doesn't like sleeping alone... get ready for that.

hes always whining asking for you to come over and go to sleep with him

literally every night that you two aren't already together hes spam texting you.

you always end up coming over.

if you play with his hair while he sleeps, you are his soulmate.

omg and little pecks on his face

he's obsessed

as for dates

i feel like he prefers more of a "lets sit and make each other laugh" type of date.

or maybe just a casual lunch where you two just catch up on more intimate parts of your life.

just wants to show you everything

you are literally his personal hype person

oml god forbid you don't pay attention to him when he shows you something

the type to fake his own demise at that very second

if he shows you a picture of him, you have to thank him for giving you a chance to see his beauty while kissing his feet.

just kidding LMAOOO

he just wants you to acknowledge the picture and maybe call him the sexiest man alive thats all! not so hard!

i think the only arguments would be from misread sarcasm from his side that causes major miscommunication.

after the first fight he does explain himself more often.

he just doesn't separate play from seriousness sometimes.

like if you show him a new outfit or hairstyle he will just say ew

out of habit of course

but truly he thinks you are the best looking person ever, just second to him of course

he actually shows you off all the time

on a schedule, everyone knows each and every outfit you had on for the last year.

everyone.

the type to send you pictures of anything and everything.

pictures of the road.

"what am i looking at" "street" "nice"

kind of like his instagram.

literally mid conversation too just pics of a empty cup.

say omg wow and you can continue the conversation.

now as far as nsfw...

ill leave it at power bottom

and mirrors.

mirrors every single time.

thats all

if you want i can do a nsfw part two

but overall he's a shelled lover. you just gotta push him out and he will love and worship every single part of you.

he wont admit it but he thinks you are the number one most beautiful person on earth. before him, of course.

#exo #exo writing #exo x reader #exo fanfic #exo fluff #exo scenarios #exo sehun #oh sehun #sehun x reader #sehun #sehun x you #sehun imagine #exo headcanons #lo reqs

[normal-thoughts-official]

Wyll's ideal reclassing is as a bard and God herself couldn't change my mind.

Listen. I do like that Wyll is a ranger if he gets out of the pact but rangers are a lonely class by nature and fuck that. And while I also get the people who reclass him as paladin, I think the last thing he needs after getting out of Mizora's pact is to immediately be bound by a new and different set of rules to another otherwordly being he's sworn his soul to.

And while I understand why the devs didn't do this, since bards are sort of a support class and there are many possible endings for Wyll where he is on his own, I am bound by no such rules because i know that the only real canon ending is that he is with Karlach.

So, bard Wyll.

For starters, the man loves drama. Look no further than his introduction, but I would also like to present to the jury the conversation where he tries to find Gale a Cool Wizard Name. Pretty much the only thing he ever has fun with anymore is his theatrics. He'd love every second of being a bard and using said theatrics to defeat his foes. Especially because Wyll is a sweetheart but when he's angry he is angry, and as a bard he gets to let his mean streak out with spells like vicious mockery and such. "Oh he already has vicious mockery as a warlock if you have the pact of the tome" thank you for further supporting my argument. He was made for this

But there is more! Wyll is a folk hero and his whole thing is that he wants to help the weak and in need, and if that isn't supporter class material, then I seriously don't know what is. Yes, defeating monsters is important; but healing people, restoring balance by weakening those who abuse their strength, entertaining and making them happy are all just as important ways of supporting the weak, if not more important.

And those ways allow him to be closer to people, which he is so desperately starved of.

As a warlock he sort of had to keep his distance because Mizora would make sure he never got close to anyone, either intentionally or just by the fact that the nature of his pact put people off (even more so after the horns). Unbound by Mizora, he has no such problems and can find a community, even if temporary, with the people he saves. "Oh but you just said you want him to be with Karlach and then he's in Hell". Yes, and there are people there. Show me a single place with more people who are weak and unfortunate in need of rescuing and respite. I'm not the first person to say this, but they actually have the chance to turn the House of Hope into an actual house of hope where people can rest and escape the horrors of the Hells. And those people would need respite and happiness, and Wyll "Drama Boy" Ravengard would be delighted to provide and find himself among them.

Also, if no one else, he has Karlach, and there is nothing he wants more than to see her happy and alright. I don't need to justify this one, it's text. So, again, supporter class makes a lot of sense in that context. Warlock/ranger is good for when he's on his own, but he's sworn to help and protect Karlach now, and while fighting side by side obviously qualifies, being able to heal her - make sure she's alright - support her in battle more than just fighting with her, gives them a deeper bond and puts him more at ease, I believe. Plus, they both deserve and desperately need some playfulness in their lives, so, at the very least, he can make her laugh with his insane Vicious Mockery casts. He kind of overcasts that one because 1- he has fun with it, and 2- it makes Karlach smile, but they're both op as fuck so it doesn't matter anyway. It's the closest they can get to lightness and fun while they don't find a definitive cure for Karlach's heart.

And once they do find it and get the fuck out of there, listen. They both deserve some downtime, okay. We're talking about two people who have been thrown into fighting nonstop since they were barely on the cusp of adulthood, and who have more trauma to unpack than years of life. So fuck going straight back to adventures and oaths and nonstop seriousness. Sure, Wyll would want to, but he also wanted to go to fucking Hell for no reason. Even with his father back, even free of Mizora, that's the only thing he can think to do with himself if you let him choose. And he deserves better than that. He deserves to rest and unpack what's happened and find value in himself beyond the Blade of Frontiers, to enjoy the youth that was stolen from him; and the man craves to settle down more than anything, even if he won't admit it even to himself other than the marriage aspect of things. But need I remind everyone that when Wyll had been given a death sentence - the tadpole - what he did was stop at a grove and teach kids how to fight? He thought he would do one last mission and then die, and what he did was that for once he allowed himself to stay and get to know people and be part of a community for a while. Sure, they needed him, but so many people did. And he was supposed to be hunting Karlach, yet he put that aside in order to have a place to belong, just for a little while, before he became a monster and lost his soul (which is fine, really. One way or the other, he knew that would be his fate. It's just coming sooner than expected, that's all) (this is me laying down Wyll's logic. None of this is fine and I'm screaming and crying).

As for Karlach, she never even wanted to be thrown into any of this anyway. Once they're out of Avernus, they will both need to rest and breathe, and that is final. And as a bard, Wyll can settle down. He can find a home and a community, have a place to come back to, have vacations when he needs to, have fun when he wants to. He will never fully give up being a hero - it's who he is, it's who he's always been even before he was the Blade. Someone who cares, someone who wants to be there for others - but he can and should find balance between that and being himself. And what better class to do that than the artsy, dramatic, drawing-strength-from-your-own-self-expression class?

Plus, as a bard, he gets to sing absolutely off the shits songs about the Blade of Frontiers/Avernus while being the Blade of Frontiers/Avernus. The comedy potential is unlimited. You want to see that. You agree. Don't lie to me.

Also, bards' spellcasting modifier is also charisma, so that's just convenient. I know that when you get reclassed in bg3 you can simply change your stats but uhhhhh. Fuck that? And yes, yes, he already has high wisdom because if anyone has a will of iron it's him, but I also feel like Wyll's off the shits charisma is a part of who he is. He is charming, both in the romantic and non-romantic sense. He enjoys being around people, he loves culture more than anything (I am once again thinking about his idle dialogue with Gale at the tollhouse when Gale says that they must have been very rich with all the trade from the Chiontar and Wyll replies, "And they wouldn't have brought just trade goods, but song, dance, and custom. Riches of the mind and the spirit". If that doesn't summarize Wyll's values and love of life I don't know what the fuck does), he likes being social and charming others. And people are drawn to him, people trust him, because he's a goddamn folk hero through and through, and not just because he's the Blade of Frontiers. So keeping his stats and using his charisma to draw his magical strength just makes sense for him

There's no other class that Wyll would enjoy as much, that would allow him to keep his favorite parts of being the Blade while also allowing room to be himself, or that would fit his current stats as well. Wyll was made to be a bard and I'll go to war over this

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #wyll ravengard #wyllach #meta #overflowing trashcan

[kwanzaa-wakanda]

Why you don't know anyone who celebrates Kwanzaa

"Because no one cares"

"Because it's a sham holiday made by a con artist"

"Because it's dumb"

"Because no True African would ever celebrate Kwanzaa."

These are all bad faith arguments. They aren't meant to actually explain why, and do more to devalue the holiday as well as people who celebrate it or at least respect it.

So, why don't you know people who celebrate Kwanzaa? After all, you have so many Black friends, or maybe even you are Black yourself, shouldn't Kwanzaa be everywhere?

This post is a bit long, and some points are explored more deeper than others, but I think this will provide an explanation that's actually pretty fair and common sense. The short version:

Kwanzaa is a newer, anti-consumerist holiday that does not appeal to every single Black person. And that's okay!

1. Kwanzaa is a newer holiday.

Kwanzaa is only about 60 years old. It's not going to be as popular as Christmas. Other holidays, say Veteran's Day, Memorial Day, or Martin Luther King Jr. Day are about as old or even younger than Kwanzaa, so why are they celebrated more widely? Well, it helps that they're all federal holidays with a state structure to back them up. Individual people can celebrate those holidays, but they don't have to, institutions celebrate them for us by giving us time off work and making a public statement (maybe a donation or two). Other than that, those holidays are largely upheld by community events, just like Kwanzaa (more on this later).

The types of family traditions we associate with Christmas take generations to build. Even other older holidays like Mother's Day don't have any real traditions inherently associated with them--we all give our moms a gift but beyond that, everyone engages with it differently.

New holidays need time to catch on. Institutional structures help speed that process along, but Kwanzaa doesn't really have that. So it's going to be slower than others in terms of attracting people.

2. Kwanzaa is anti-consumerist inherently.

In America, consumerism makes up a very large part of how people engage in holidays. Note that I'm not saying "people only celebrate other holidays for consumerist reasons", I am saying that a lot of the driving forces that 'remind' us to take holidays seriously in the US are market forces. We're inundated with advertisements, sales, and decorations that help create a 'feeling' of the holiday (be it Christmas, Valentine's Day, Halloween, etc) which also make it easier to engage with the holiday. We can get the supplies we need at the store. If we don't have plans then there's probably a business throwing a party around that time to keep us entertained. Gift-giving and feast preparation is expressed through buying products en masse so we prepare financially. Holiday specific media sculpts our collective understanding of the holiday's themes even if we don't engage directly.

Kwanzaa, as an explicitlyanti-consumerist holiday, doesn't lend itself to that level of cultural zeitgeist in the US. People exchange gifts and decorate places for Kwanzaa, but commerce during Kwanzaa is typically kept within Black communities through dealing directly with (small) Black Owned businesses. Given that most corporations in the US are white owned, there's very little reason for the market structure to incentive our continued engagement in Kwanzaa. The passive acknowledgement that it's a holiday that exists is the most we can really hope for.

Imagine Halloween without candy sales, Spirit Halloween stores, Halloween parties or costume nights at our favorite restaurants and bars. Imagine no horror movies coming out in October! In a world like that, I and many other people would still celebrate Halloween, but it wouldn't be as easy, and a lot of people probably wouldn't acknowledge it at all, because it isn't as easy.

Kwanzaa explicitly resists the market forces that help holidays stay in our daily lives. We all value our holidays beyond those forces, but we can't deny the very heavy role they play. We can argue that such market forces are morally neutral or even good, but not in this post--whatever your view of holiday consumerism, it's critical to understand that Kwanzaa was organized specifically for people who don't appreciate such consumerism.

3. Kwanzaa does not appeal to all Black people equally.

I think this is one of the hardest points for people both within and outside the community to grasp. The holiday is for Black people, and is meant to appeal to as broad a sampling of Black people as possible. That doesn't mean it will appeal to everyone, though.

The target audience for Kwanzaa is Black people, regardless of nationality, who believe in a shared political unity, heritage, and cultural engagement of all Black people regardless of nationality.

Thing is, not all Black people believe in or value those things. Not all Black people are Pan-Africanist, Afrocentrist, or Black Nationalist, or any other Negritude philosophy. These philosophies are widespread in politics and scholarship, but outside of those dimensions of life engagement with them gets complicated.

You may have heard that "no Africans celebrate Kwanzaa" this is largely true because Africans live in families and communities where their African heritage is already affirmed through other means, including other holidays. Kwanzaa therefore doesn't appeal to them, even if they do believe in all it's themes. Such people may go to Kwanzaa events if invited, but they likely wouldn't hold them for themselves.

Many in the African Diaspora understand their identity most immediately by the region they settled in, and only have a distant sense of African identity. They don't deny being African or having African heritage, but they see being Caribbean, or Brazilian, or American as more relevant. Kwanzaa therefore doesn't appeal to them as it's not specific enough.

Kwanzaa is not closed to any Black demographic and actively encourages all of us to celebrate it. But not all of us will find it appealing.

I would compare Kwanzaa to a holiday like Easter--its a Christian holiday meant to appeal to all Christians equally. But if you aren't church-going and have no children in the family, you probably don't celebrate Easter to any meaningful extent, or your engagement is so personal that it isn't considered very mainstream or traditional.

The point I'm trying to make is: holidays aren't guaranteed to appeal to everyone in their target demographic. Though the reasons why diverge, not every Christian celebrates Easter, not every Black person celebrates Kwanzaa.

4. Communal Kwanzaa celebration is more popular than in-home, but that also carries some drawbacks to it.

Whenever people interested in celebrating Kwanzaa ask me how to get started, I often tell them to look into community celebrations. They're usually put on by churches (perhaps even mosques), community centers, cultural activity groups, or political groups. And therein lies the problem--if you don't live in close proximity to that type of Black community, or the community is invisiblized, then even if there are communal Kwanzaa celebrations to check out you probably won't know about them.

You can't just ask a random Black person about a Kwanzaa event, typically. My advice is to tell people to check out a Black bookstore (and, if available, an African cultural store or an Afro spiritual store). The types of people organizing Kwanzaa events are usually those deeply enmeshed in cultural and political Black discourses, particularly those that affirm an African heritage. But such people aren't found everywhere. In my experience, you can find such people and spaces in most major cities, and so a Kwanzaa celebration probably isn't too far away either. Everywhere else, though...

The only other option to find Kwanzaa celebrations, in my experience, are through Black student clubs in colleges. Not all of them do Kwanzaa activities due to many factors (cost, timing, interest, etc), but my undergrad college did and I know that others throughout the country do. However, such activities may not be open to the public (again, for varying reasons -- cost, timing, interest, college policy...).

When people ask about personal celebration, they usually ask about in-home celebration, treating community celebrations or celebrations in schools as less serious or legitimate. Kwanzaa in general is itself rare, but the idyllic in-home celebration is even rarer -- I myself was raised engaging in Kwanzaa almost entirely through community rather than in-home celebrations (though I started doing in-home for myself in recent years).

---

How, then, should we treat people who celebrate Kwanzaa, or even the non-Black people who don't celebrate it but acknowledge it as a valid holiday?

Honestly, I don't get why that has to be a question. Sure, it's a very marginal holiday, but it's also harmless to treat it respectfully and try and make room in your life in case you ever come across someone who does celebrate it.

I made this post because I often see this idea that people were "tricked" about Kwanzaa. I fail to see what harm has transpired. I don't get why people use their lack of awareness of Kwanzaa or Black communities that celebrate it as a "gotcha" that proves Kwanzaa is a scheme. When I do try to understand the logic underlying this, I come back to this idea that holidays and cultures have to earn respect and validation, that being included in our American idea of "Holiday Time" requires that holidays have a certain number of people we already respect, whom would be offended otherwise.

But that isn't a perspective that I share. I can't say how many people need to celebrate a holiday in America before I stop thinking it an insult or a lie that said holiday be included next to Christmas in a holiday greeting; the number doesn't exist because I don't hold Christmas or Hannukah in so high esteem. I value Christmas in as much as I recognize other people value it, the same is true of Hannukah and Yule (and even the pagan witches I've known didn't celebrate Yule). To me, the only thing one needs to be worthy of consideration as one of The Holidays is to simply be celebrated by people around this time of year.

#kwanzaa #kwanza #i spell it both ways when I tag cuz I know a lot of people get it wrong but the extra a is right #black culture #black community #happy holidays

[cultofdixon]

On the wrong side of him

Daryl Dixon [PLATONIC] • HINTS of Carl Grimes x Reader • He/Him Pronouns • Yeah when Daryl asked the universe to give him a kid one day. He never expected you and your crazy ass to be it • ANGST/SFW • TW: Scars / Injuries / Anxiety Attacks / Nightmares

Requested by: Anon

“You gotta control your kid.”

“You’re seriously botherin’ me during breakfast?” Daryl scoffs pointing to his skinned possum on the porch of their new residence.

“Daryl. Ever since you found Y/N, he became your responsibility and I need yea to knock some sense into your kid”

“Where the fuck is this coming from?!” Daryl scoffs. “I’m trying to fucking eat!” He continued to prepare his meal as Rick sat across from him keeping away from the mess.

“You've never been a dad before. You don’t know what it’s like.”

Daryl immediately stopped what he was doing and glared at the retired sheriff for his harsh words. Something in Rick wasn’t going to apologize and another knew he should’ve thought that one through.

“You’re gonna eat your words one day” He frowns picking up the pieces of the possum and going to Carol’s place to discard the bad bits and cook the others.

Carl decided to explore Alexandria without his dad keeping an eye on him in the new environment and to also get an idea for the place himself. That’s when he noticed Y/N scaling the side of the Alexandria wall making him sprint towards the guy.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Carl whisper yells as Y/N stumbled a bit which lead to a cut on his arm that he didn’t take note of.

“Taking a breather. Now scram” Y/N scoffs climbing over the wall and Carl only panicked when he heard a loud thud from the other side.

That sound led to Carl quickly following Y/N’s exact footsteps to get up and over the wall to check on his person to only find that they managed to get far from the wall already.

“Y/N wait!” Carl yells after him watching him quickly turn toward the Grimes with an annoyed look.

“You don’t know when to mind your own business huh?” Y/N scoffs going back on his route to who the hell knows where. “Go back before your dad sends out a witch hunt”

Carl frowns watching him go for a second before trying to find a way to keep him still.

“Can I at least take care of that cut of yours before you go back out into that hell?” His whole person tensed when Y/N kept moving before he eventually stopped and dropped his backpack to go through it. He quietly approached the kid only for bandages to be tossed at him and Y/N sitting on the fallen tree.

The young grimes was ever so careful when wrapping Dixon’s kid’s arm up. It wasn’t too serious but any cut in the apocalypse that gets infected can lead to becoming one of those sickos. The two sat in silence the entire time as Carl finishes it up watching Y/N take what was left of the roll to put back in his bag. But Carl was quick to grab his hand into his.

“Can’t you give this place a try? You did with the prison”

“It’s not the place. It’s the people.” Your dad scares the fuck out of me “I don’t…wanna feel trapped.”

“What would your dad think?” Carl states watching the confusion write itself on Y/N’s face. “Daryl! Yeah, you’re not blood but that doesn’t stop someone from making you their kid. Honestly, people who say blood is the only form of family are insulting a fuckton of adopted kids….I realize I’m sidetracking. But I am making good points regardless. Daryl is your dad. You’re his kid. You running away will be devastating”

“It’s not…It’s not my dad that makes me feel unwelcome. But I guess and I mean—-I GUESS. You’re argument swayed my decision” Y/N rises to his feet picking up his bag and started heading back toward Alexandria with Carl picking himself up and walking beside him taking everything Y/N said with a tight grip.

Climbing the wall was easier now Carl knew Y/N’s exact foot pattern to get himself over it. But right as Carl joins Y/N on the other side they both noticed two stressed out individuals and of course it was their dads.

“Don’t say anything, alright?” Y/N states ignoring Carl’s protests as he starts to make his way over to the two noticing Daryl’s worry first before Rick’s anger.

“Where the fuck were you two?!”

“Y/N and I—-“

“I hopped the walls. Carl followed me but we weren’t out for long” Y/N interrupts telling the truth when Carl was going to come up with a lie to cover for them.

“See. This is why I don’t like y’all hanging out” Rick scoffs crossing his arms as all three of them were turned into confused individuals. “Y/N is a bad influence on my son and since his mind is still the kid we first met that would try and get himself killed every chance he got with his recklessness—-Carl following his actions would get him killed in the process”

“I’d never let anything happen to Carl” Y/N hissed clenching his fists at his sides trying to keep himself in his bubble. “And if I’m such a bad influence, you didn’t have to let me in—-back at the prison. Could’ve turned me away”

“I should’ve. I really fucking should’ve”

“Rick. What the fuck is your problem?!” Daryl shoved the retired sheriff back away from his kid. “You can’t just say that.”

“Yeah? And what the fuck are yea gonna do Daryl? How are you gonna punish the kid for leading mine into fucking danger?”

“Nothing happened!” Carl yells at deaf ears watching neither of them budge and his friend struggle to contain himself.

“You have no idea what it’s like to take care of a kid whose parents just left them.”

“Yeah but I kinda get the idea on why they’d leave him in the first place” and that was another knife embedded deep in Y/N’s back as he couldn’t believe Rick went there.

________

“Y/N?” Daryl calls out for the kid trying to find him in the prison after another ‘prison escape’ with Carl that lead to Rick yelling at the guy.

It usually doesn’t take the archer long to find anybody. But Y/N was a whole new challenge.

But thankfully, after checking the entire prison inside…it didn’t take much longer for Y/N to signal Daryl from the watchtower with his flashlight. He was hiding up there and ignore Daryl’s initial calling outside when Rick and Carl were out there. But once the Grimes were nowhere in sight, he revealed his location.

“You’re gonna be the death of me if yea keep runnin’” Daryl scoffs entering the top of the watchtower finding Y/N and his belongings with him. “The fuck are you doing?”

“Planning my escape”

“Nah”

“You’re not—-“

“Yea I ain’t yer fucking bastard parents that left yea at school the day of the outbreak.” Daryl snaps only to realize he used the kid’s trauma on him. Causing his own internal wounds to bleed. “Look. I’m sorry. I know I ain’t yer dad or whatever. But yer my responsibility. Yer my kid. Call me whatever the fuck yea want. I ain’t lettin’ yea leave because Rick is a bastard that’s over-protective of his kid”

“You think…after a month of being here…that some normalcy would return. But it’s…it’s not the old world. Being a rebellious teen is different and some kids lost their parents. He still has one that’s blood and I’m just a burden to yea.”

“I never said you were a burden—“

“Rick—-“

“Don’t listen to that fucking guy. He’s not yer dad. He ain’t yer guardian. I am. I fucking am. And not everybody has our survival kills.” Daryl states approaching the kid resting a hand on Y/N’s shoulder to cause him to look up at the archer. “You just need to be more careful when involvin’ anybody because of parents like Rick. I think helicopter is the term”

“You think you won’t become one?”

“Maybe. Cuz I like yea. Yer already important to me. But I know when space is needed and when the moment is right to step in. Even when you won’t tell me yea need me”

Y/N frowns listening to his words as he held himself for a moment.

“Carl is…the only one my age here. It’s just. Nice to have a friend. But I can’t be myself if his old man doesn’t like it”

“Listen. Can yea just be risky within the walls where somebody is around in case shit happens? Preferably not Rick.”

“Are you condoning my recklessness?”

“You wouldn’t do nothin’ without a reason”

________

Daryl frowns to Rick’s words as he did his best to keep his anger at bay even if his kid was already cracking with the rage filled tears getting the best of him. Rick stood his ground though.

“I know. Some damn part of you wants this place to work. For not just you. But your son and daughter. Hell I hate the place so far but I want it to work for my son.” Daryl sighs. “And if yea continue to be on edge like this? And especially aim your aniexty about everythin’ not related to my kid—-onto my kid? You’ll be asking for it Grimes” he scoffs gesturing for Y/N to follow him which he did as Carl tried to grab him when he instantly smacked his hand away.

The two made it into the house Carol received as she watches Y/N angrily go upstairs but noticed the bandages first.

“Hey how’d—“ Carol stopped when Daryl held his hand up to stop her as he watches Y/N make his way upstairs to one of the bedrooms.

“I’ll know if you leave. I knew the first time but Carl got to yea before I did” Daryl states watching Y/N freeze at the top of the steps as he crosses his arms looking down at the Dixon. “Just don’t. You deserve a place here like anybody else”

“When I escaped the prison with Rick and Carl, I was a walking problem. Until Terminus took the pedestal for a while. Now I’m back on it cuz I’m a terrible influence. Well…I didn’t ask to live this long in this shitty new world” Y/N frowns dropping his bag outside the door to one of the bedrooms before entering to tell both Daryl and Carol that he couldn’t run away with his things that were important to him.

Carol quietly approaches Daryl’s side crossing her arms and looking at her best friend with worry. Completely ignoring every thought of hers that wanted to investigate this place. People she cares about were in distress. Priorities.

Daryl explained to her what happened and that led to Carol stating every other incident that pissed Rick off because it could’ve led his son on the “wrong path” when frankly…a few reckless situations in their eyes weren’t going to be the end of the world.

Y/N has always been reckless and a bit rambunctious when he first entered the prison.

Getting the kids in the prison to fuck with his knife and that led to a few angry parents. Inevitably an angry Rick.

Leaving the prison at an ungodly hour with Carl just to check out a view point Y/N found on one of his own prison breaks that Daryl always found him after. Rick finding out by waiting by the gates when the two returned.

Carl getting hurt because Y/N miscalculated the trajectory of his makeshift catapult and the rock immediately hitting the Grimes’s forehead.

There were plenty of other moments…

But the few that stuck to Rick

Was ditching his unconscious form to explore the neighborhood they were in. Y/N getting blamed for the several incidents where either of them could’ve gotten hurt.

The escape of Terminus, Y/N tossing his own explosive a bit too close to the escaping group but it got the walkers away from following them. (The bright side always ignored).

Even a moment where Y/N was taking a walk to clear his head after hearing about Beth and Carl accompanying him. His choice, but Y/N getting chewed out for “not telling anyone and getting his son involved” when it was Carl’s choice.

When then first entered Alexandria. Y/N wanted to ignore Carl, because then Rick wouldn’t have an issue with him. But it was hard…a part of him really liked the young Grimes. He knew he couldn’t pursue it and part of him was afraid to. That fear never mattered when Rick would shoot daggers with his eyes into the poor kid whenever being near Carl.

Those glares coming more frequently after the escaping Alexandria moment. When it was another “Carl made his own decision” moment.

News of the party came around and Carol didn’t bother asking Daryl or Y/N if they were going. She didn’t want to push their buttons that are currently glued into the circuit board because of Rick Grimes.

Carl on the other hand.

“Do I have to go?”

“Yes”

“Now why is that?” Carl crosses his arms leaning against the kitchen island as Rick immediately scowled his son.

“I know you’re gonna sneak off with the Dixon kid. I ain’t having yea around him anymore”

“He’s a part of our family, Dad. You can’t just cut people out of it—-“

“He ain’t a part of mine if he put your life in danger several times” Rick frowns leaving the conversation to finish getting ready and to get Judith as Carl couldn’t help but grow even more annoyed at his dad.

As the party commenced and Daryl was out of the house, Y/N opened his window when he heard light tapping from pebbles being tossed at it. He looks down at the young grimes and immediately retracted himself shutting the window.

“Y/N come on…” Carl frowns knowing it would be rude to just enter the house but hell it’s the fucking apocalypse you can ignore those rules like traffic laws.

Y/N heard the front door open and close which led to him dropping to the floor. Rolling under the bed and bringing himself up enough to make it difficult to see him under. Practically hugging the frame.

“Y/N—“ Carl stops at his door seeing no one and left after standing there for too long.

Once Carl met the end of the steps to be face to face with Daryl carrying a plate of spaghetti.

“What’re you doin’ here?”

“Just. Wanted to check on Y/N but he’s not here. You think—-“

“He didn’t leave. But yea shouldn’t be here” Daryl frowns watching the poor kid look more upset then he’s ever been. “Look. Yer dad is on my ass about Y/N, even when I haven’t done this shit before. So I need yea out.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Shits not your fault. Ain’t my kid’s either. But I ain’t about to have him take it all as his fault and self destruct because you’re not listenin’ to yer old man and his shitty rules only you gotta deal with.” He frowns walking past him about to head upstairs. “Y/N is gonna have to get on Rick’s good side all on his own. Now go before he comes searchin’” he states watching Carl leave on that note.

The archer slowly turned around finding Y/N making himself known out of the blindspot the stairs have. He frowns at Daryl before lighting up slightly when the man raised the food up a bit asking without words if he wanted it. Of course he did.

The first few days went by and Y/N did exactly what Rick wanted. Keep himself in check and keep a distance between him and Carl. Carl got closer to the other teens in the community while Y/N helped Daryl fix up the bike in Aaron’s garage. Which lead to him joining the two on recruiting trips.

That when the months past and everyone was a part of the plan to keep the herd from getting to Alexandria. No one could’ve predicted for it to go wrong, but few did go into this with little expectations for a good outcome. Y/N being one of them even if he remained within the walls taking care of the Wolves problem and eventually perching himself on one of the roofs with a bow gifted to him after a past run from Daryl and Aaron. He watches the group dressed as walkers go through the herd late at night when he notices the smallest glint of a pistol in the hands of Ron.

Don’t miss the shot, kid. Y/N always heard Daryl bitching at him for his aim but once he got his target. He released.

Rick flinched when the arrow pierced Ron’s chest making the kid fall back as Michonne quickly retracted her sword. She had gotten close enough to take her own shot when both quickly turned to where it came from finding Y/N did her job. Both were thankful in the moment but the dumbass trigger finger still managed to get one of their own.

“Dad…” Carl frowns lifting his head to Rick showing that Ron still managed to get a shot in taking out his son’s eye.

The retired sheriff panicked internally as he quickly collected his son while both Michonne and Y/N cleared a path. Y/N even took care of the two getting dangerously close to Michonne. Once the three got into the infirmary, Y/N quickly made his way back inside the house through his bedroom window. Quickly ditching the bow and arrows to pick up the axe by the door running out taking out the few in his way. He knew Rick would come out to take out the remaining walkers out of pure anger for what had happened as he was doing the same but also making his way to the infirmary to see if he could help in any way.

The dust never really settles given they now had to rebuild the walls, get rid of the corpses, and go on a fuckton of scavenging runs because provisions diminished drastically.

When Carl woke in the infirmary bed with one less eye and in a fuckton of pain. He was met with his worried father and a looming figure he couldn’t make a clear picture of that stood in the doorway.

“You need somethin’ Carl? Painkillers? Water?”

“Sleep. Mostly sleep”

“You’ve been out a few days” Rick laughs through his own pain. “But you can rest all yea want.”

Carl sighs with a weak smile returning to looking up at the ceiling as Rick got up to get him more water locking eyes with Y/N who was the figure at the door.

“If yea hadn’t taken the shot—-“

“You would’ve been dead. He doesn’t deserve to lose his dad. ‘Sides, it’ll take time.” Y/N gestures on his own face which eye Carl lost which resulting in a temporary confused look. “He’ll be back to himself. Shit like this just takes time to get used to”

“…if yea hadn’t taken the shot, Carl would’ve lost both his parents to this hell. Thanks for having my back” Rick states first, walking past the now youngest Dixon before stopping a moment making Y/N turn to him absentmindedly.

“I’m sorry for treatin’ yea like shit”

“It’s in the past”

Right…

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes fanfiction