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#junior grimes
juniortrooper69 · 2 years
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“Submission to DarkSimps WILL IS MANDATORY” -Lord DarkSimp
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butterfilledpockets · 7 months
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Casey Jr mask progress!!
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it took like three hours to figure what the fuck was going on with CJ's mask but it finally makes sense!!!
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never worked with foam before but this came out way better than I expected! (I did wing most of it though)
next step is to sand it down, patch with foam clay, then seal and paint (and then I'm gonna make the flip mechanism so it lifts like his :D)
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curtbiddick · 1 year
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Merry fuckin’ Christmas!
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 9 months
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when u didn't come back after 6 days i was worried this had happened to you
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Yeah, it turns out grimace really doesn't like people celebrating his birthday. Yeah, it was a warning shot. Yeah, I won't do it again.
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Horror Characters Preference - How they celebrate Christmas with you
Happy Holydays! This is a little gift i wrote for you all :)
 I wished I could have added more characters and some escenarios ended up a bit short, but this is the best i got in the few writing time i had in between holyday preparations. 
Fandoms incluided: Chucky, The Walking Dead and Stranger Things.
tags: @losersclubisms @helie-brain ( i added Daryl for you) @richiethedigidestine ( i remember how much you like Carl)
Chucky
Andy Barclay
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-Only after growing tired of hearing you sing ' You are a mean one, Mr Grinch' he ends up confessing why he hates Christmas. 
- Andy is the sort of person who would give speeches about consumerism and children being brainwashed by commercials. It is a very important topic for him because it ruined his life, over the years he blamed himself a lot about wanting a Good Guy for his birthday when he was 6 and manipulative advertisement played a big role on that. 
- He is the least materialistic person you have ever met. Although he has a hard time expressing what he wants or needs you have clear that he prefers people over things. 
- If it would depend on him, he would spend Christmas like a regular day, but he has you and Kyle getting him out to get things and do holiday stuff. 
- Decorating the tree was easier to convince him about, you made the cabin look like a home and he couldn't complain of that. 
- It made him feel a bit fuzzy inside. His place would not be a prison or an Isolation spot anymore. You wanted to stay with him and turn it into a home, your home. 
Junior Wheeler
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- Christmas is Bree's favorite holiday and she is your favorite of your boyfriend's parents, so you are there to celebrate. 
- You also want to support Junior because you know Logan has a way of always ruining his mood somehow. He would never let him be happy, not at least in his own way. 
- For so, you were there to do it. Perfectly aware of his musical inclinations, you encouraged him to sing Christmas songs with you for the little kids in the party. Junior knows that you like that and only you could have convinced him of joining.
 - People are shocked, Logan receives tons of compliments and advice coming even from some of his friends regarding the unexpectedly discovered talent of his son. 
- You casually mention that you play piano, a subtle act of support in that context. 
- Junior is so happy that, if there weren't formal appearances to keep, he would have kissed you ríght there.
Jake Wheeler
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-Christmas is a hard time for him. He used to love it as a kid but since his mom died nothing is the same. The season reminds him so much of her and his father is not a good source of support. Lucas gets even worse around the holydays and Jake has to either avoid him or babysit his drunk ass.
 - One of his saddest memories involves him having to decorate the tree alone, feeling the loose even harder' because the season makes him feel like he is alone in the world. 
- That's precisely why it meant so much to see you at his doorstep visiting to help him with the decorations. You even brought some yourself along with some other Christmas plans. 
- He almost cried while eating your gingerbread cookies, that's how strongly emotional you got him with such simple acts. 
- Lucas gave you the side eye as he was passing by. He knows who you are and he is not supportive of your relationship, but that time you didn't mind in the slightest. 
- In fact, you previously fought the urge of bringing a mistletoe just to not get Jake in trouble. 
- You love your boyfriend and wouldn't let the assholeness of his father get in between your chances to give him happiness.
Bonus
Chucky
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- He is the gift for one of the kids on your family gathering.
-Switched the original gift for a box containing him, actually. 
- Good luck surviving his holyday fun.
The Walking Dead
Daryl Dixon
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- Celebrating anything is complicated in the world you live in, almost impossible for most people. When you were freshly arrived the Alexandria people were trying to push parties down your throats and Daryl had the worse reactions to that. 
- He hates to be pushed into anything, even more when it is about a celebration he wasn't a fan of before the apocalypse. 
- One thing was for sure, his reactions of discomfort were quite adorable to you. At some point of the party he got tired of giving deathly stares so he wouldn't be bothered and he stayed outside. He was out in the front not only refusing to participate, but to even be present.
- Of course, you followed to make him company and make sure he wouldn't freeze. After all, If both of you wanted, that party could be just the two of you.
Carl Grimes
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- If he gets the chance to celebrate, he wants to make it nice for his little sister. Carl feels he was fortunate because he got to experience a real Christmas and she will never have that. 
- Even if she is too little to remember, he wants to make it special for her and you help with whatever you can. Sacavange for things, arts and crafts, whatever necessary to get some nice decorations and presents.  
- Your determination on the topic ends up convincing Rick of accepting the idea. As soon as he heard your reasons, even Daryl was up to participate. He has a soft spot for the little girl and Carl is doing so much for her. 
- When the time comes, all the people you consider family are there. It's your first truly felt Christmas since the end of the world.
Stranger Things
Steve Harrington
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- He doesn't get much comfort and family at home, but since he has you and his little friends he found a family where he belongs and that manifests on his attitude around the holidays. 
- His gifts are super thoughtful. Everyone knows he is gonna surprise and that makes you nervous. You fear he would give you the most perfect gift and yours for him wouldn't be as good enough in comparison. 
- Meanwhile, Steve stresses more about what to get for Dustin, considering how far he is from his peculiar likes and interests, than what he planned for you. 
- For Christmas Eve he gets invited to dinner by the Hendersons and that means you also got invited. Dustin loves you both and wants you to be there with him and his mom. 
- When you arrive the boy is watching ' Silent Night, Deathly Night'. 
- " No horror movies tonight." You commented to him. " It's our first Christmas together. We have to make it nice. " 
" But it counts as a Christmas movie!" He playfully complained. " It's an open film subgenre." 
- Steve laughed and messed with his hair, loving to hear him being himself and you trying to make things the normal way. 
- You both in your different ways make him insanely happy.
Eddie Munson
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-I get the feeling that his celebrations are the closest to how It's used to celebrate where i live. 
- Loudest Christmas ever, it's 6 pm of Christmas Eve and Eddie is already blasting music. He is a happy and unapologetical dude and that's how cheer hits him.
- You are neighbors, so you are constantly crossing over trailers to see how each other is going as you await for the night. You have to get reminded to get back whenever someone needs any of you for something on your preparations. 
- Eddie and Wayne end up joining you. Your family is on good terms with them and getting all together is better than having to stand how you and Eddie leave out of sudden to see each other. 
- At some point of the night, once you have enough time to dedicate to your families, you follow him into the next step of your celebrations. 
- Surprisingly crashing late at Dustin's and pumping up the party. 
- Steve mocked you for showing up late, he and Eddie have a secret war going on over who amazes Dustin the most.
Bonus
Billy Hargrove
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- You have been dating for a while and your mom suggested you could invite him to your Christmas party. 
- Everything goes fine when you are introducing him to your parents but, as soon as he saw him, your little brother reacted as if he would have seen the reaper. He clumsily tried to dissimulate, but you know him well enough to notice he is terrified. 
- That’s how you find out that the dude you were seeing was also your brother’s bully, the nameless guy he would always complain about everytime he came back home made a scared mess. 
- You dump his ass without hesitation. He may be charming and super hot, but he showed his true colours messing with a little boy, with your family.
- Nothing can excuse that. 
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grande-caps · 4 months
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Oppenheimer (2023) Quality : HD Screencaptures Amount : 5.048 files Resolution : 1.920 x 1.080 px
- Please like/reblog if using!
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disneytva · 1 year
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EXCLUSIVE: Disney Sets 4 Channel Multi-Cast Premiere For All New- Stop Motion Holiday Special “Mickey Saves Christmas” By Disney Television Animation And Stoopid Buddy Stoodios
Here we are, warm and cozy by the fire's glow, singing songs and stealing kisses under the mistletoe.
We've finished our feasts, had the tastiest treats,but the Spirit of Christmas just isn't complete.
Disney prepares the best Christmas of all with an brand new stop-motion holiday special “Mickey Saves Christmas” an special event who will be simulcasted by ABC Network,Disney Channel,Disney XD, Disney Junior on November 27th at 7:00PM with a next day release on Disney+.
The premiere of Mickey Saves Christmas becomes the first Disney Television Animation special to air on ABC Network in 23 years since “Winnie The Pooh: A Valentine Day To You” on 1999.
“Mickey Saves Christmas” (7:00-7:30 p.m. EST) - Simulcast on Disney Channel, Disney Junior, Disney XD and ABC
In this stop-motion holiday special, Mickey, Minnie and their pals attempt to celebrate the perfect Christmas at their snowy cabin. However, when Pluto causes Santa to lose all the presents on his sleigh, the friends travel to the North Pole on a quest to save Christmas and find the true meaning of the holiday.
*Brock Powell (Disney Channel’s “Hamster & Gretel”) and Camryn Grimes (“The Young and the Restless”) voice Santa and Mrs. Claus, respectively.
The special helmed by Disney Television Animation will feature animation services from Stoopid Buddy Stoodios (Adult Swim’s Robot Chicken) additionaly Stoopid Buddy is helming the two upcoming stop-motion animated series “Duffy The Bear (2023) and young adult musical comedy “Rhona Who Lives By The River” (TBA) both slated for a release on Disney+ as part of a collaboration with Disney Television Animation and Disney Branded Television for Disney+.
TV-G
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BIG SPOILERS NOW IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE LAST THE WALKING DEAD EPISODE 11.24 "REST IN PEACE"! (PUTTING WARNING JUST IN CASE)
So there was supposed to be ending where we meet older Judith, RJ, Gracie, Coco and Jerry's and Nabila's child Ezra. Here we have this deleted scene written and I found this from Slash Film site.
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Also photo:
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RJ Grimes (Roland Buck III), Ezra (Seoum Tylor Aun), Coco Espinosa (Sahara Ale), Gracie (Tess Cline) & Judith Grimes (Britt Baron).
What do you all think of this, the casting, the scene that could have been and are you eager to see it someday?
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redpool · 1 year
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There are a lot of hbo war actors that I recognise in Justified.
Jacob Pitts who plays Tim Gutterson played Bill 'Hoosier' Smith in The Pacific.
Rick Gomez who plays David Vasquez played George Luz in Band of Brothers.
Richard Speight Jr who plays Jed Berwind played William 'Skip' Muck in Band of Brothers.
Frank John Hughes who plays Terry Powe played William 'Bill' Guarnere in Band of Brothers.
Neal McDonough who plays Robert Quarles played Lynn D. Buck Compton in Band of Brothers.
Scott Grimes who plays Seabass played Donald Malarkey in Band of Brothers.
Joe Mazzello who plays Billy St. Cyr played Eugene Sledge in The Pacific.
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bladiegfs · 10 months
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it's been a long, long time
➵ hcs + drabbles of being separated from your lover for a while (ft. jing yuan, blade, gepard)
➵ warning(s) applicable: none
➵ wc: 2.3k
➵ they say distance makes the heart grow fonder. but sometimes, you can't stand it.
➵ author's note: hugging (and a kiss on blade's) as a treat...
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Jing Yuan
⇢ It had been a while since you two saw one another; you were both far too busy with the threat of the Stellaron Hunters coming to Xianzhou.
⇢ You were busy with matters concerning work; no matter whether or not literal criminals could be walking the streets, the world stops for no one.
⇢ Well, most especially because you were involved with the Realm-Keeping Commission. It kept you ridiculously occupied, so much to the point that you couldn’t even pick up your phone.
⇢ Many things were keeping you occupied: first was the clear issue of the well-hidden secret of Blade’s escape. Second were the strange visitors that Sushang had been lugging around, especially the one carrying around a coffin and… hitting enemies with it. Third was the investigation of the spread of mara within soldiers— the Cloud Knights had been bleeding more men than predicted, which only made it more difficult for them to handle the criminals.
“He’s quite suspicious, isn’t he?” You comment, pulling Sushang to the side. The young knight raises an eyebrow at your words. “Who?” “The fair-haired one,” You explain. “The one with the coffin.” “I thought of that, too,” Sushang nods. She then beams at you, “But I can handle this, [name]! Trust me— you don’t have to worry more than you already do. The Loufu General won’t be too happy to know you’re running on anxiety, you know?”
⇢ And of course, you greatly missed Jing Yuan. At first, it was a faint feeling of sadness that resided in your chest. Then, as the days went by, it only grew in intensity. Somehow, seeing happy pairs of Foxians walking outside left a bitter taste in your mouth.
⇢ However, you had to push those feelings to the side and needed to put all focus on doing your job— the determination of ending all that gets in the way kept you fueled. After all, the sooner you deal with work, the sooner you’d be reunited with him.
⇢ And when all things ceased— finally and for the better, too— you find yourself overly aware of just how much you really missed your beloved. His absence had made your side turn cold.
⇢ Not only that, but worries also started to wander into your head. Where is he? What had happened to him these past few days? He didn’t do anything reckless, did he?
⇢ Those questions, you thought, could be easily answered by the one junior you know you could trust: Yanqing. And there he was, wiping his sword clean of dirt on a pavilion. You approached him, raising a hand in acknowledgment as you call out his name. He looks up at you with a bright smile.
“The General…” Yanqing tilts his head, eyes wandering up as he thinks. Some grime was on the little boy’s cheek as well as his hand, but he paid them no attention, or perhaps he did not notice. Then, his expression lights up and he says, “I last saw him with Madam Yukong! They’re probably at the Starskiff Haven.” “Thanks, Yanqing,” You smile, one hand reaching out to away wipe the dirt on his face as you spoke. Yanqing’s hand quickly darts up his face, replacing yours. With a voice tinged with shame, he says, “You better hurry or you might miss him.”
⇢ When you arrived at Starskiff Haven, the docks were filled with other officials within the Sky-Faring Commission. You peeked between the crowd, looking for him— looking for a hint of that light hair, and straining your ears to pick up the sound of his voice.
⇢ It was difficult to look around. There were far too many people blocking your line of sight, and he was likely right up front, unconsciously commanding attention like he always has. 
⇢ And so, you turned around, opting to wait for the crowds to dwindle instead.
⇢ As you turned around, you bumped into someone. Before you could apologize, realization dawned upon you. You open your mouth soundlessly, unsure of where to start.
“Looking for someone?” Jing Yuan says, a playful smile on his face. You quickly rushed in for a hug, engulfing him in your arms. He stumbles back a little in surprise, momentarily stunned before returning the embrace. “Missed me that much?” He teases you as you melt into his arms. “You have no idea.” You reply, holding him even tighter. A laugh escapes his lips as one of his hands combs through your hair. He breathes in deeply and replies in a voice low enough that only you can hear, “I missed you too.”
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Blade
⇢ Worries filled your head the moment you heard that Blade was captured by the Cloud Knights.
⇢ Kafka was quick to wave it off when the news hit, laughing as she does so. It did little to dissuade your worries.
“Oh, Bladie’s fine,” She quickly says, her voice a little more gentle this time. “Don’t worry about it, [name]. It’s all going according to plan.” “Plan,” you incredulously echo. Kafka nods as she turns to one of the screens, projecting an image of the planet. “After all, he’s already gotten away.” “Huh?” You stand up, your chair dragging on the floor with a loud noise. “What’s he doing now, then?” The half-grin Kafka gives you answers none of your questions.
⇢ With that, you breathe out a sigh of relief. Kafka had already plotted to go to Xianzhou Loufu herself— something about fulfilling what Elio had foreseen. None of which you’re allowed to know, but the fact that she’d be there reassures you.
⇢ You find yourself resting a lot easier. You return to your duties, significantly less bothered.
⇢ …Until a certain someone lets it slip that Kafka has gotten captured by the Divination Commission’s Master Diviner.
⇢ The entire situation spelled trouble; Blade had a nasty habit of meddling in fights involving any other members of the Stellaron Hunters. Hell, that’s how you met him first. But not only that, you worried about what information the commission could read on Kafka, and what they could possibly do to her.
“I’ll come get her myself,” You grit your teeth. Sam laughs, “Hey, don’t be rash. It’s all going—” “According to plan,” You finish, irritation audible in your voice. “That’s what you’re going to say, right?” “…Going to be alright, then,” Sam offers a sleazy smile. “Better?”
⇢ Right as you were briskly walking to the teleporters— followed by Sam who refused to let you go— a loud noise rattles the headquarters and lights flicker on and off for a second before stabilizing once more.
⇢ You rush to the source of the noise and was met with the sight of him dusting his clothes off, clicking his tongue. Meanwhile, Kafka sat beside Silver Wolf, amused as she watches Blade move.
⇢ When Blade meets your eyes, his expression somewhat relaxes. But he doesn’t spare you a greeting as you unconsciously scan his person; your eyes narrow at the new set of bandages wrapped around his arm. He then walks out of the room, pushing past Sam.
⇢ Looking around and at the three hunters looking at you expectantly, you sigh and turn to follow Blade.
⇢ He quickly walks through the halls and disappears behind the automatic doors of his room. You hasten your steps, and when the doors open for you, he’s seated at the foot of his bed, in the progress of removing his top.
⇢ He silently glances up to look at you and his hands stop working on his clothes. Instead, he leans back a little, propping himself up with one elbow against the bed and his free hand motioning for you to come closer.
⇢ You follow him and find a seat on top of his lap. You wrap your arms around him, breathing out as you feel his warmth once more.
Blade’s arm snakes around your waist, pulling you even closer.  A jolt of electricity moves through your spine as he moves lower to press kisses on your neck. He murmurs against your skin, “Missed me?” “Yes,” You whisper. You feel his mouth curve up in a smile at your reply. And he leaves it unsaid as he kisses you, his lips meeting yours; I missed you, too. 
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Gepard
⇢ From the very start, you understood what Gepard’s line of work meant and you admired him for it.
⇢ But there was also the fact that there were days that were truly rough for him. He is a skilled fighter but there were still days when he’d come home wounded and tired. And you knew that he always means to be careful– he hated to see you look so worried and distraught– but his work comes first before anything.
⇢ And with his position in his work, it was all the more riskier. ‘To fight for Belobog is an honor,’ they said, but it sure didn’t feel like one whenever Gepard comes home to you and you’d see him injured. 
⇢ Fortunately, those days were sparse.
⇢ But suddenly, there were orders for the Silvermane Guards to be dispatched outside the city. Length of stay? Indefinite. They were to remain there until they’ve completely eliminated the threat of Automaton Beasts— machines that might as well be pests with the way they never seem to never run out. 
⇢ You felt somewhat assured that Gepard can handle the threat; he told you things like these were a walk in the park for him.
⇢ It was the distance that troubled you, as well as the intense cold outside the city. You vividly remember your early teen years, when you’d curiously explore the vast, snowy plains and shivered as you moved.
“Be careful,” You told Gepard as his hand hovers over the doorknob. “Stay safe, alright?” Gepard throws a glance behind his shoulder and looks at you with a small smile. “I’ll try.” You give him an unamused scoff, which only makes the smile on his face grow. Then, he gives in and says, “I’ll contact you as much as I can.” Slowly, a tiny smile also appears on your face.
⇢ Days turn into a week. He’d occasionally call you at around dinner time, checking in on you and chatting about trivial matters. You’d ask about how his mission is going, and he’d tell you the same thing he usually does: “It’s going great. Don’t worry, [name].”
⇢ But one night, the clock ticks past dinner time and you stare hard enough at your phone that you could almost launch it flying with just your gaze.
⇢ After a while, you pick up your phone— it works two ways, doesn’t it? But it only rings, and rings, and rings.
⇢ You told yourself to not worry about it too much; he was probably simply occupied for the night. He deserved and earned his rest.
⇢ Until it extends to four nights of silence. Four nights of not hearing his voice, not knowing what’s happened to him. Nothing.
⇢ At this point, you had wanted to march right out of the city walls once more, just like what you had done before. But you snapped back to reality the more you thought about it— you didn’t want to give the guards another thing to worry about, another to look out for.
⇢ Instead, all you could do is sigh discontentedly as you stare into your phone, waiting and waiting and waiting.
⇢ Seven days had passed since you last heard from Gepard. An entire week of waiting for news– waiting for anything at all– to tell you that he’s alright.
⇢ Then, as you walk through the city to quickly shop for more rice, you overheard a conversation between some guards within the city.
“—the captain.” “How long?” “I have no idea. Apparently, they’ve run into one of the biggest ones and sent his subordinates back to camp with one foot in the grave.” “So he’s fighting it alone?” “One at a time, yeah, I think. Chipping away at it. But it has been like, what? A week? Who knows how much longer it’ll be?” “Right,” The guard nods. “It could take him a year if he just kept going by himself instead of mobilizing his juniors.” “You know the captain. He’s not that type of person.”
⇢ You stumble back home, sick to your stomach.  Gepard– the sweet, kind, caring man that he is and you fell for– had been fighting alone, all for the sake of his subordinates.
⇢ Right as you were about to get your phone to call Serval, the person you know would understand, you saw some guards and paramedics within the city walk in packs through the window.
⇢ Curiously, you peek out. Suddenly, hope and dread both fill your stomach as you see lines of guards– Gepard’s subordinates– start to litter the streets and go en route to the nearest medical bay.
⇢ You quickly rush outside your home and trail behind them, anxious to see their captain, your Gepard.
You pushed through the other soldiers, determined to make your way to him. He stood there, looking worse for wear. Yet, he stood steadfast. It was as if the wounds all over him didn’t exist. Instead, he ordered the paramedics to take his subordinates first. Your heart aches as you watch him and found yourself unable to hold back any longer— you pushed past another line of soldiers with some effort and broke through. With that, you start rushing toward your lover. When he catches sight of you, his walking first speeds up, until he starts rushing to you as well. And it was as if the world stopped moving when he catches you in his arms, engulfing you in a tight embrace. He cradles your head when you mutter, “I thought… I was so…” “It’s alright,” Gepard replies in a soothing voice. “I’m here. I’m here now.” 
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we-are-inevitable · 16 days
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Now… transmasc Davey… he’s tumbling around in my brain like a loose sock in the dryer… thoughts and feelings? 👀
transmasc davey who’s always known he feels Different because sarah is his twin sister and they are supposed to be the same and she loves dresses but why doesn’t he? transmasc davey who tries out for sports even though he doesn’t really like them because sarah is the girly sister, so he’ll pick up the tomboy act, and it’s a lot more acceptable for girls to be covered in dirt and grime when you soend hours practicing softball every day. transmasc davey who asks for a haircut going into freshman year of high school because he’s tired of looking exactly like his sister and being mistaken for her, so he gets a shoulder length cut, and then a chin length cut, and then a pixie, and suddenly he feels a lot more confident. transmasc davey who, by some stroke of luck, got his father’s genes and is 6’1 as a junior in high school and knows he’s queer now, but doesn’t know why shopping for prom dressed with sarah is making his chest ache or why he feels more comfortable in baggy jeans and hoodies or why he has a crush on jack yet doesn’t want to pursue or ask him to prom because it feels weird and wrong right now.
transmasc davey who buys a compression bra the summer before senior year and realizes Oh. Oh wait. There’s something here. transmasc davey who comes out to sarah first before anyone else and sarah is only upset because davey could have worn a matching suit to her prom dress if he had figured this out like three months sooner. transmasc davey who chooses his name because he’s not a jewelry person but he’s worn a Star of David necklace every day for the past six years because his parents wanted him to have it.
transmasc davey who wears a binder to the first day of school senior year and excitedly tells all of his friends. transmasc davey gets to pick a suit out for winter formal and actually gets to have it tailored using some of his savings from his summer job. transmasc davey who asks jack to prom and has his first kiss in a school gym and finally feels right.
transmasc davey who gets to explore himself in college, who starts T freshman year and gets involved with activist groups on campus, who shares an apartment with jack starting sophomore year, who is a cat dad to an awful little kitten, who gets top surgery after saving for years and years as a college graduation gift to himself, who wears a suit to his wedding and helps organize pride events every summer and works with queer youth and marginalized communities and spends his life using his voice to advocate and build community and stick up for the little guys.
transmasc davey.
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juniortrooper69 · 10 months
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Observe it
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seravphs · 1 year
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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO X FEM READER
When you took the job, you knew working the night shift at your local convenience store would be boring. That’s fine; you’re here to make enough to pay rent, not to smile for strangers who don’t care anyways.The appearance of a stranger who seems to have a lot to hide is tantalizing bait to your boredom, but you can’t give in. That is, if you have a choice at all.
wc — 3k
tags — mafia au but not really, implied but never addressed, is he or isn’t he, Gojo is Weird, blood, guns, this is not meant to be a serious gorey fic, its just a fun little way for me to branch out and stretch those writing muscles 
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They don’t pay you enough to keep guns under the counters, but it’s cheaper to teach you to shoot then it is to pay for security cameras. It would be cheaper not to show you to protect yourself at all, actually, but you’re the sixth cashier they’ve burned through in as many weeks. Even in a town as down as this one is, rumors spread fast. 
The wages are shit, but it’s all you’ve got, and college is expensive for a degree as useless as yours is. Four months away from becoming a junior, and you’ve only held unpaid internships and this position as a cashier at a dirty, old convenience store on the wrong side of the train tracks. 
You think the owner is hiding something, or maybe that’s just wishful thinking for a job as boring as this one. People come and go, make rude comments, pick up beer and slide you IDs you weren’t trained to check. It’s quiet enough to convince you to let down your guard, then your fingers brush the cold metal underneath the register and you remember the long line of unnamed, unknown girls who came before you. 
This is the bad side of town, and you’re stuck here for at least three months, two weeks, and five days more. Lucky you. 
At least the work is easy. It’s so far out that management can get away with the grime on the walls and pulsing, fluorescent blue lighting that gives you headaches. Even though they’re supposedly focused on keeping costs low and profits high as possible, the air con is always on blast. 
There are no regulars here, not until him - the one customer you get past 3:00 am. The witching hour, if you believed in that sort of the thing. 
You’ve taken to calling him ghost, your stranger. He’s just like one - as faded and pale as a memory, hard to discern between reality and the imaginary. 
You had just thought he was another one of your kind, a student down on hard luck and keeping ungodly hours. This town would do that to you - strip you of any shimmer in your irises from before you came here and beat you into the ground. There was a little bit of sympathy for him, then. Sometimes you offered him a piece of candy in the bowl by your left hand. 
He never took it. Just as well, it probably wasn’t safe to eat. 
The bell on the door rings. On instinct, you lift your head, your hand going back to the comforting holster underneath the counter. It’s just him, however - piercing blue eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses and bone white hair. At first, you thought he was just high constantly, cause no one needs sunglasses when the moon is already rising in the sky, but the one time you caught him looking, the whites of his eyes had been clearer than milk. 
The temperature shifts subtly when he comes in. It’s hot outside. Summer nights in July always feel disgusting. This town can’t pay for maintenance, so during the day, the asphalt cracks under the sun. Heat waves shimmer off the concrete side walks. It’s cooler at night, but not by much. When your tall, mysterious stranger comes in, he always brings the heat in with him, even if only for a moment. The thermometer’s red line goes up a few degrees. 
He has a routine, like a clockwork doll. Heads for the back first, pulling the strings of his black hoodie down as he makes a beeline for the fridge. You think he might be diabetic as you ring up his order: same old, same old. Sugary blue pop, a packet of fruit chews, five hour energy. Something new, this time. You’ve never seen him grab actual food before, though this should barely count. You add the chips to his total. The money’s in your hand before you can ask for it. 
Strange man. 
Strange men are preferable to scary men, however. Customers come and go, often silent, always in and out like they were never here, but every so often, someone comes in who’s clearly looking for trouble. 
And sometimes, there’s someone who’s so clearly dangerous it stops your heart. 
He’s wearing a balaclava. It’s a trend now, you try to convince yourself. It’s fashionable. 
No one cares about fashion in this town (no one but your ghost, that is).They’re too focused on staying alive. The balaclava wearing man is clad in all black. But the bad news is that he’s coming towards you with a plastic bag in one hand and a flash of silver in the other. The knife twirls over his fingers, over and over, rhythmic and steady like he knows how to use it. 
You grip the holster of the gun. To be honest, although you were trained, you’re not sure you can do it. It’s only a comfort, like a child’s favorite blanket. 
He thrusts the bag on the counter. “All the cash you have, bitch. Hurry up.” 
You’re just a part-timer. You’re not risking your life for a dumb convenience store. Right as your hands move to unlock the cash register, however, the door rings again. 
It’s him. 
Black hoodie (a new one, with white and blue lettering down the arms), black oval sunglasses, hair bleached brighter than the corona of the sun. Warm air blows into the store, a miniature heatwave. 
He doesn’t notice the man who’s currently hustling you for all the money in the store, but the man notices him. 
“Get lost, kid! We’re busy here.” 
He looks up, surprised. Then he ambles closer, as casual as if it’s a normal day, picking up his usual on the way: a packet of chips, blue pop, candy. 
“Nah,” he says, voice calm and cheery. A lunatic, then. “I’m busy.” 
“Do you understand what’s going on here?” The potential thief looks like he might be preparing to do something you’ll all regret. You wonder if you could use the gun to save someone else’s life. You don’t think so. 
Your ghost let’s his sunglasses slip down his face. His eyes, as they always are in the rare instances he’s let you see them, are startling and preternaturally blue. 
The man jumps. He seems confused, vacillating between fear and disbelief. It’s as if he recognizes him, just by the eyes alone.
“What don’t you get? Scram.” His blue eyes flash with restrained heat. “I’m not a patient man.“
Still, he hesitates. You wouldn’t. The words don’t seem like an empty threat. 
Casually, your ghost throws his items on the counter for you to bag, pushing the man aside. In one motion, he has the knife. “I’m keeping this as a reward for my generosity. You have five seconds before I decide to take your spleen with it.” 
The man with the balaclava looks at his eyes again, flicking between them and his white hair in fear before he comes to a decision. He bolts out of the store. You understand the sentiment a little. When you first met your ghost, with his hair like hoarfrost and eyes like the summer sky, you had felt the strangeness of him shake you too, as if something about him was fundamentally at odds with the world. 
Your ghost snaps you out of your frozen stupor when he gestures for you to get on with checking his purchases out. This time, as he throws down his bills, you catch the flash of a shiny watch on his wrist, inked sleeves. His arms writhe with patterns of dragons and koi fish, characters for honor and glory and strength. He has money that people would kill for in this town.
He raises an eyebrow when he catches you looking at the symbols of the kind of wealth that shouldn’t exist this close to the outskirts of nothing. You guys didn’t even have a train that came reliably most days, the tracks scattered with litter and graffiti.
He’s cocky. The way few can afford to be. Real arrogance too, not borrowed, the kind that can make threats at the blink of an eye because they can follow through on them. 
“Are you in the fucking mafia?” You ask in disbelief, remembering only too late that the two of you are strangers. 
All of the fantastical stories you’ve made up in your head to explain away his strange appearance and late nights are just that: fantasies. Idle fairytales to pass the time. Ways to make your job less boring, soothe the ache of being a washed up nobody in your shithole of a hometown. 
You are suddenly very aware of the presence of danger, the hair rising on your arms as your body reacts like an animal. 
“That doesn’t sound like a thank you to me.” 
His voice is slightly higher than you’d expect from someone in the mafia. For some reason, you’ve always imagined mafiosos would have a deep baritone, but his is smoother, even if it has a rasp to it, like he smokes as a hobby. You’ve never seen him pick up cigarettes. 
Even more dangerously, you can feel the thread of attraction between you two, pulling taut. You want to know more, desperately, even when you’ve seen him threaten to gut a man as calmly as he picks out what flavor of pop he wants. 
There’s no room for risk when you live here. All the perilous thrills you could want are already imbedded in your daily life. There’s nothing left for any more. 
“That doesn’t sound like an answer to me,” you retort. 
You shouldn’t be so comfortable with him - you aren’t, really, you’re aware of the fact that you two are technically strangers but if he wanted to hurt you, he could’ve done so already. 
He laughs. Blatantly. A snickering kind of laugh, one that’s clearly directed at you, not with you. 
“No,” he says, between wheezing for breath. “Not mafia. What, you read too much manga or something? I’m just an insomniac. Oh, that means I have trouble-“
“I know what that means!” You snap, humiliated, warmth burning on your cheeks. 
Sue you for wanting a little excitement in this boring job, boring town, boring life. You were an idiot for thinking this lunatic could be the one to provide it. 
He taps his cold bottle of pop to your forehead as he leaves, making you flinch. “You’re a weird girl,” he says. “I like you.” 
I like you. 
I like you. 
I like you. 
The words run through your head relentlessly, little greyhounds with too much energy yapping at all hours of the day. A little chorus of “I like you”s at all hours, making you replay the moment over. Stuck. 
This town drives you mad. You haven’t had anything to love in a while in this cold, deserted place. It must be why you’re fixated on him. You’re imagining the obsession because you miss the feeling. The heart is a muscle like any other - it grows atrophied with disuse. 
That doesn’t stop you from looking forward to seeing him again. 
The next time your beautiful stranger walks in, he’s with a friend. That’s how you learn his name. His buddy looks like even more of a delinquent than he is - gauges, tattoos, piercings, all of it. 
He’s gentler, though, more soft-spoken. Voice like a running stream, smile as soft as warm butter. This is the first time you’ve seen your ghost laugh, when too-many-piercings-to-count cracks some joke by the ice cream freezer. He catches you looking, long black hair flipping over his shoulder as his head whips around to face you. Ghost hasn’t noticed. He gives you a smile, but something about it feels wrong. You avert your eyes, and the boys are in the next aisle, hidden from view, a moment later. 
“Hey,” Ghost says, his smile genuine. “Fancy seeing you again.” 
“You know her?” His friend questions. “I’m so sorry. Gojo’s such a pain in the ass, isn’t he?” 
You smile faintly. Something about his friend is terrifying. His eyes seem dead inside, pure black tar, sticky traps. 
Ghost shoves him. “Back off. You’re the annoying one, she’s so much more spunky when it’s just me.” 
You’re so focused on trying to keep yourself out of danger you don’t even realize the tidbit of information you have until you’re in the grocery store after your shift. As you’re picking out produce you realize - now you know his name. 
This town and it’s stupid transit system has you waiting in the biting cold for hours. Your groceries are heavy and the bus petulantly refuses to come. 
A motorcycle roars in the distance, dying to a purr as it stops in front of you. 
“Hi, stranger,” says your beautiful ghost. “You want a ride?” 
“Are you stalking me?” You blurt out. 
Gojo wrinkles his nose, offended. “Who’d have time to stalk you? You can just say you don’t want the ride.” 
“Wait!” This is a bad idea. This is a very bad idea. This is the worst idea you’ve had in a long time. You should listen to your mother when she tells you not to be reckless. “No, I do. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” 
His lips curve into a brilliant smile. “I was just teasing. C’mere.” 
He pulls a helmet out of nowhere - it’s clearly not for him, because his white hair is messy and windswept. He buckles it under your chin carefully. Under further consideration, he shucks off his black leather jacket and tucks it around you. 
“Trust me,” he says. “It gets cold when you’re riding. You’re going to hold on tight, right?” 
You wrap your arms around his waist. 
“Nope,” he says, taking your hands and pulling you closer so you’re pressed right up against his back. You can feel the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. “You’re going to fall off like that. Address?” 
He doesn’t just drop you off, he carries your groceries inside for you and makes you laugh as he helps unpack them. 
Too late, you realize you might’ve given your address to a mafioso. Just because Gojo says he isn’t, doesn’t mean it’s true. He’s just hard to resist. You’ve always been weak for beautiful things, starved of it in this concrete city. 
That’s when the flowers start showing up. 
Did you mention you were weak to the beautiful things? 
Massive bouquets of riotous color, flowers that aren’t even in season, that cost a fortune to ship. 
Maybe it’s payment for his absence, because Gojo hasn’t shown up for the past week. The flowers keep coming - lilies with creamy white petals, extravagantly expensive roses, massive hothouse orchids. The flowers don’t compare to him. 
It’s bad, but you’re addicted. He gives you a thrill like nothing else. 
The next time you see Gojo, you hear him first. You’re closing another shift where you haven’t seen him and heading out the back door when you hear a noise like a wounded animal. A soft hiss of air escaping through clenched teeth.
“Gojo!” You gasp. He’s leaning against the bottom of the stairs, chain smoking and clutching his side. Red spills between his fingers, staining his normal white shirts a startling rust. 
“Hey, stranger. Fancy seeing you here.” 
“This is no time for your little jokes! Let me see that, oh my god-“
“Hey, hey,” he soothes. “No need to fret, it’s not serious.” 
“You’re going to bleed out.”
“Nah. I know what that looks like.” 
“Just- stay here, okay?”
“Not going anywhere, princess.” He smiles up at you, still fatally charming as his life bleeds out of his side. “You going to take care of me?”
“Against my better judgement, yes.” 
Hauling out the massive first aid kit your boss keeps in the bathroom cabinets is a bit of an ordeal, but nothing compared to pulling Gojo’s shirt up and seeing the slash in his side. 
“Worse than it looks.” 
Well, at least he’s right about that. It doesn’t look like he needs stitches, but he’ll need to be very, very careful for the next few days. You dig through the kit for salve, bandages, and wipes. Gently, you set to work cleaning, then bandaging. 
His head tips back, revealing the column of his throat, as he moans in pain. There’s a tattoo right between his collarbones, a stylized eye. Watchful. “Hurts,” he says. 
“Serves you right, you big baby. Besides, isn’t this supposed to be nothing for you?”
“I’m not a mafioso,” he says with a smile. 
You eye him disbelievingly as you pack his wound. 
“There, all better.”
“Not quite.”
“What now?”
“Doesn’t a kiss fix everything?”
You know he’s expecting you to push him away, so just to be contrary, you lean in and gently peck the bandage covering his side. 
His hand snakes his way into your hair and gently brings you back up, face to face with him. “Bad girl. You know that’s not what I meant.” 
And then he’s kissing you like you’re his nicotine. He tastes like smoke and ash - not particularly enjoyable, but the more time you spent licking his bad habits from his mouth, the more you’re staring to enjoy them. Gojo is everything that’s wrong for you - secondhand delinquency, but he’s such a good kisser. He pulls away and mouthes down your neck, leaving bruising kisses all over your carotid artery. 
“Pretty thing,” he murmurs against your neck. “Wanna take you home.” 
You think he might be delirious and check him for a fever. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 
“I’m serious,” he whines, forehead against your shoulder now. “Want you all to myself. Don’t want share with the convenience store anymore.” 
He’s in no state to go anywhere, by the way he’s babbling. Just this once, you let him come with you. 
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The streets are quiet these days. Maybe they can smell the spilled blood on the doorstep, a warning flag to anyone who comes into the convenience store. Or maybe the man who waits for you outside is the warning. 
“Anything interesting happen while I was gone?” 
He’s come to pick you up again, black helmet already outstretched to you. 
“No. You have anything to do with that?”
He smiles and leans in to brush his lips against your temple. “Everyone knows you’re off limits. You’re mine.” 
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lorata · 27 days
Text
Dexter & Callista, 57
for @transrevolutions on your natal day, here is uhhh some ... dark ....... conversations about death and mentoring, anger and violence and tributes who don't usually get a lot of attention? (skye & jasper)
SORRY I TRIED TO WRITE CREED but this happened instead
warnings for: canon-typical violence (arena and otherwise), mentions of offscreen victor prostitution
------------------------
Skye crumples to the ground, his chest a bloody ruin, and Two’s newest mentor brings home her first victor without even trying. Dexter had played nice with her because why not, kid had been terrified and heartsick like all of them their first time in the ring and soon she’d know the ugly stench of loss like everyone else, that sick little bonding ritual that brought them all together. Joke’s on him, though, looks like she didn’t need his condescension.
“Good game,” Dexter grinds out dully as he pushes himself to his feet, mostly because Phillips made such a fucking scene about it when his died and it feels like there’s a point to prove somewhere. Not that anybody notices, it’s endgame now so there are morgues to visit and families to call and consolation speeches to choke out for the losers. Starting tonight, sponsors will be looking to cash in their failed investments, but he can’t — not right now, not yet.
For the winners — well, Dexter wouldn’t know. He’s never brought one back alive.
The corridors bustle with activity, Avoxes and runners hustling and upstart nepotism-gifted junior Gamemakers barking out orders to make themselves feel important with their bosses busy upstairs. Someone slams hard into Dexter, knocking him fully sideways, but he keeps walking, ignoring the babbled apology.
Cannot go to the One floor, with its perfumed showers and apologetic escort and list of assignments likely already waiting. Not the mentor common floor, either, with the pity-party raging and where they will not welcome the almost-rans who murdered all the early losers. The roof, then — not the penthouse garden above the tribute apartments, home of District 12’s fresh meat, but like much of the Capitol there’s the glitzy, glittery parts for show and then there’s everything else. A few slipped pills to an Avox and Dexter’s in an access elevator to a square of rooftop nestled halfway up the complex between two spires.
He expects the gritty concrete and traffic grime, the blare of distant celebrations and occasional blaze of a travelling strobe light; he does not expect a goddess in athleisure with her feet propped up against the wall, smoking a noxious-smelling cigarette. “New girl won,” Dexter says, to give himself some time.
Callista exhales a long plume of smoke. After waiting a while for her reply, Dexter decides that must be it and lowers himself down across from her. “You know those things will kill you,” he says, out of some stupid compulsion. He can’t look at carbohydrates without feeling an itch to stuff his fingers down his throat and the only euphoria he’s ever experienced came in tablet form passed via Callista’s tongue, but his minders would have whipped him for that.
“I,” Callista says with grave reverence, “am microdosing on mortality.”
“What, all this isn’t enough for you?” He waves an arm behind them, where a condominium complex has projected the faces of all the tributes. As he watches, Skye and Camphor switch from full colour to black and white.
But at the same time, he knows what she means. They don’t make a drug mean enough for what he wants, they don’t make drugs that fill your lungs with tar and ash, that scrape your throat and make you rasp and cough. He failed, again. A beautiful, hopeful, stupid, cocky child has died, again. Sparkly club drugs and golden thrumming in his veins won’t help him now.
Callista hands it over. Dexter inhales deep — oh, big mistake, his lungs immediately protest — he chokes, spluttering, passes the cigarette back as his head spins and his stomach turns over. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the wall. “We were so close. So close.”
She hums. “You had a sweet one this year. How would he have fared, your boy? When they got their claws in him.”
Skye — was sweet, for One. He and Camphor had made themselves a killer pair. They’d known how to work it, too, rinsing each other off by the lake, curling up at night, teasing the audience without ever taking real advantage of each other. If it had been the two of them in the end, Dexter has no doubts they would have fought it out without hard feelings, true professionals, no hidden barbs and buried hatred coming out to play.
And when he won, it would be Dexter’s job to remind him of the cost. To sit him down, give him the list of names, and tell him exactly how they liked it, exactly as his mentor had done with him.
Anger flares, better than any drug. Dexter clings to it even as it slips through his fingers, like blood-slick intestine. “Is this you trying to make me feel better? Better he’s dead than have to suffer my life?”
Calista stares at him, incomprehending, and he could do it now, could throw himself at her and wrap his arms around her throat, bash his fists into her skull and leave her face a bloody pulp, shove her over the edge and let the sidewalk take her, every single awful, ugly urge that bubbles up when he’s on his knees but he isn’t in some plush bedroom now, is he, and she has no power over him —
“I apologize,” Callista says, and Dexter nearly screams no, don’t, I need to feel this, don’t you say you’re sorry to me but it’s too late, it all deflates. “I am furious. I want to kill. I want to feel the blood again, I want to hurt — I want to hurt.” She says it one more time, reverent, like a litany. “I wanted to hurt.”
“How can you say it like that.” Dexter almost laughs, except it’s not funny, he just — can’t make the pieces fit together. “You say these things and you’re just … sitting there, smoking. You sound like you’re ordering caviar at dinner.”
“This is how I always sound.” Callista bares her teeth in a smile that sets his skin crawling. “Ladies do not raise their voice. Ladies are elegant. Ladies —“
“Kill the guy they’re having sex with on live television and scar impressionable young boys? Come on.”
Callista huffs a sound somewhere between a snort and a snicker. “Not all of them, clearly.”
Everything is fucked, Dexter thinks, Skye should be alive and he should not be in a complicated mutilation-and-orgasms situationship with a rival mentor, but here they are. “That was still a shitty thing to say.”
Out in the streets the victory fanfare plays on tinny loop from a dessert truck. Callista closes her eyes. “I thought the Arena would make it stop,” she says. “I want to hurt — everything, everyone, all the time. I practice control with things that matter but give me an excuse and I will tear your throat out. You were wounded and I knew I could hurt you. You may take a free shot, if you’d like.”
Well, that gave him something to chew on when his brain isn’t stuffed with Skye’s death stare — Callista’s mouth on his, hand sliding between his legs, crammed into a back alley with an unconscious man’s blood pooling at their feet; the time he asked her to make him hurt and she took him close, but not quite, to using the safe word she’d taught him, and he’d cried in her arms in the comedown and they’d never talked about it, I practice control with things that matter what the fuck —
“Is that why you pick the villains?” Dexter blurted out instead, like he’s nineteen and suicidal all over again.
She exhaled through her nose. The cigarette had long burned out, and she glanced down at it, clicked her tongue, and flicked the butt away. “Never let me accuse you of being soft. Villains, really.”
“You have to know.” This year especially, Dexter has a steel stomach and even he didn’t relish those hours of watching Callista’s boy fillet the little one from Twelve. They’d all been grateful when Four took care of it. “Outliers are the underdog or the dark horse, but we’re either a hero or, well.”
Dexter, more fool him, usually went for heroes, despite the hell that waited for them. District 1 had enough angry mentors who went for the nasty ones, he could afford to try. In the end they all bled out the same.
“I hate that word.” Callista clips the words with icy precision. “They are children. Children who give the audience exactly what they want, a bloodbath. Children with no artifice, children who cannot pretty up their kills with talk of loyalty or pride or wanting to see their precious little homesteads again. The people drink up the spectacle each year and demand more, bigger, flashier. These Games teach us it is our nature to do whatever it takes to survive. My children are villains because they don’t come with equal amounts of remorse to make it palatable.”
“Sure, but this one tortured a kid,” Dexter says. Sometimes Twos really are a whole other level. “Don’t you think you’d have it easier if you picked kids who … didn’t do that? As soon as he started skinning you know they would have offed him, whether the Pack did him in or not.”
Now Callista’s eyes blaze, and for a second he thinks she’ll actually hurt him, not just throw bladed words, but the only thing that escapes her is a low hiss. “So he died regardless, knowing that he made me proud. He deserves that much. His time of glory and a mentor who loves him, even only for a month. They all deserve that. I am not in this for the safe sells, obedient little quarry sons and daughters with patriotic sponsors lined up out the door. Anyone can love those. I am here for the ones nobody else will.”
In spite of himself, Dexter’s throat feels thick. Did his mentor talk to anyone like that about him? Or does that kind of unfettered, passionate protectiveness burn out the first time you hand your victor off to the pawing crowd? He feels ancient and naked at the same time. “Well,” he says, uselessly, “here’s to dead kids who deserve better.”
Callista presses the toe of her shoe against his calf and lets her eyes fall shut. They stay outside, awake but silent, until nightfall.
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richonnesbitch · 4 days
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Thoughts on ep 5?
This was pry my least favorite episode so far. I’ve never cared for Gabriel so his and Jadis’ scenes bored me. The 3 new people they introduced were killed off so quickly… and badly? Idk it’s like 10 years into the apocalypse and known of them seemed to know how to survive, it felt stupid. They were literally just there to show how Rick and Michonne worked together.
Also I was surprised that Jadis ended up helping them in the end, she could have just died and got the last laugh that they didn’t know where the file was.
Honestly, I would say I loved it if not for all the Gabriel/Jadis scenes. That really brought it down for me. The entire time they were on I was fighting the urge not to skip ahead. But I guess I'm glad I didn't because I would have missed hearing that Rick wanted to marry Michonne on the bridge!!! Absolutely insane. Absolutely BONKERS.
But with that being said, I loved the rest of the episode so much. It really gave The Next World and Say Yes vibes which are two of my favorite episodes ever! Seeing Rick and Michonne on their honeymoon is just soooooo 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰
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Rick trying to get that "junior" license plate for RJ just melted my heart. He loves that baby already and he hasn't even met him. Father of all time me thinks! And then Rick gifting Michonne her favorite toothpaste because he remembers and cherishes every little thing about her. When I say the line "I was in love with my son's best friend" sent me into orbit..... it sent me into ORBIT. I was crying my eyes out. And then when he gave her the replacement "m" necklace. Oh Rick Grimes, how I love you. I love seeing them getting to be happy and love on each other as hard as they can. Wish we could have saw their drunk freaky cabin sex where they most definitely probably tied each other up 😉 it looked a little too natural when they tied themselves up for Jadis.
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It was so pleasurable for me seeing Jadis die slowly, brutally, and painfully. Everyone say thank you, Michonne! Rick telling Michonne "maybe just maim her first" had me chuckling! He's so funny. I guess Red and his siblings really were pointless? Why did Jadis think Rick and Michonne wouldn't be able to easily take out those randos? But seeing Jadis FINALLY die felt so satisfying!! I'm glad she suffered. And I'm glad Michonne didn't give her any peace as she died. She let her know the CRM will be getting what's coming to them 🥳🥳🥳
And last but not least my favorite part of the episode. You already know what it is. Rick fucking proposing to Michonne!!!
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8 fucking years and we FINALLY got a proposal. I mean it's weird how most of the other couples got that chance but not the lead couple? It's weird. But I'm so glad to see it happening now. Vindication has never felt so good.
And this was only the proposal! Meaning we got a wedding coming up.
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And I love this proposal so much. It's not lengthy or over the top and you really feel the few words Rick and Michonne say to each other. They carry a lot of meaning. I'm just so beyond happy!!!
But in conclusion, I do understand why this isn't people's favorite episode. I don't dislike it as much as anyone else but it's not my favorite either. I think my ranking would be episode 4, episode 1, episode 2, episode 5, episode 3. I loved that we got a little lightheartedness before shit hits the fan in the finale!
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streets-in-paradise · 6 months
Note
Ok so today we had music playing when I was volunteering. Kid music, stuff like that. It was pretty fun. Then the “You are my Sunshine” song started playing and it sent me straight to our Final Family AU.
Just imagine Andy and Junior living alone in the woods. Junior is upset and restless, he can’t sleep, so he shyly (and also feels embarrassed) asks Andy if he could sing for him. Andy doesn’t like his singing voice and almost says no, but Junior looks so down and seems as if he’s expecting rejection, so he sings that song. He sings it until Junior falls into a peaceful sleep, with Andy meaning every single word of the song.
“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.
You make me happy when skies are grey.
You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you
Please don’t take my sunshine away…”
I LOVE IT SO FUCKING MUCH YES YES 💕💕💕And for plenty of reasons, not only because is cute as fuck and such heart warming found family moment.
You brought me twd war flashbacks. There is this angsty concept arround this very same song coming from that show that is super translatable to Chucky. There is this moment where Carl ( the protagonist's child, teen boy barely older than junior) is forced by Negan ( the season's bad guy and one of the most notorious ones in the show) to sing in some sort of psycologically humilliating way while he physically threatens him. The boy sings the song his mom ( deceased) used to sing to him and it is this very same song 😭
I'm gonna break your heart: Junior as Carl and Chucky as Negan.
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