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#the way Brain has no choice but to give it his all lol
thelittlemermage · 1 year
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Rob and Moe deserve an Emmy for their voice acting this episode. Definitely the hardest I’ve laughed at a patb segment in the reboot.
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irndad · 1 year
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hi im back! okey so def can see spencer still wanting to hug and snuggle with you even when fighting or mad at each other. he even gets genuinely ??? confused ??? when you try to sleep on the couch instead of in bed at night. he holds you and either reader or him is like "i know we are snuggling right now but i am still super pissed off at you." lol i can just see it. he may be petty when mad but he wont stop trying to touch you bc its a biological need of his and no argument is more important than needing you 🥺
enjoy this I did it very fast!!!! ily
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He knows he’s not easy to be with sometimes. She would never say it, but it’s true. He doesn’t always get the jokes, sometimes pushes things too far and without even knowing it the ground gets pulled out from under him. 
And sleep- Sleep is so complicated. The memory of the first time she slept in his bed is etched into a place he could never erase. Spencer had always had trouble sleeping, either fear or alertness plaguing him into the late hours of the night. He used to lie awake, the kind of exhausted that feels like it’s seeping out of your bones, while constantly facts he’d unwittingly memorized about how sleep deprivation can cause brain damage. 
But then she’d come into his life. All soft words and gentle disposition, and there really is something magic about the way that everything just dissipates when her warm, soft body curves into his own. He’s slept well almost every night since. 
Except today, she isn’t coming to bed. 
It’s his fault, and he knows it. He wasn’t being fair. She hadn’t seen him for two weeks (and he hadn’t slept nearly enough without the weight of her form beside him since the last time he saw her) and she’d said that she wanted to be prioritized more. 
“I haven’t seen you in weeks, Spence!”
His head was killing him. Was it actually possible, for a headache to kill you? Her voice is audibly upset, and it’s alarming how he could be the cause of it. 
“Please,” he had said through labored effort, “Can we talk about this later?” 
“When would you like to talk about it? Because I don’t ever know if you’re leaving-“
“Do you even know what it is that I do?  That it’s not a choice for me to go? I have to do this. I can’t pick and choose and honestly, I don’t want to. If you don’t get that, we’re not doing what I thought we were doing.”
It sounds foreign, his own voice. And it’s after he’s said it that the sick taste reaches his throat because oh, that means the end. Her lovely face is unreadable for a brief moment, before something like grief splays over her expression.
It’s silent for a beat, and Spencer wishes he could swallow the words back up, rewind his life like a battered VHS tape where he’s not so stupid to mess up the one thing that’s ever brought him peace.
“You’re not yourself, Spencer. I’m gonna give you a minute.”
A minute, it turns out, is hours in the living room. She hadn’t left, thank fucking god, but she hadn’t come back. Of course she hadn’t. She wasn’t the one who needed to apologize. 
He’s just so tired. 
He thinks of her so-sweet voice, the curve of cheek- the junction of her neck and shoulder, and how much he would like to have her pressed against him. He pads out into the living room like a nervous puppy, and sees her sleeping on the olive green couch she had picked out. Her hair was splayed across the arm of the sofa, and her head laid on a throw pillow, their fuzziest blanket draped across her form. 
His first thought is how low he’s dropped, that he’s jealous of a blanket. 
His second his that she is not coming to bed. He sits beside her gingerly, and the scent of her body wash lingers in the air. 
“Are you planning on coming to bed?”
“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” He can tell she wants to sound cold, but the truth is much worse; she sounds guarded. 
“I always want you to.” It’s the most honest thing he’s said today, and it’s just not fair, how much he revolves around her. How he has waited 14 days, 13 hours and 34 minutes to hold her again and managed to ruin it within the first 20 minutes of having seen her again. He grabs her hand, soft and pliant against his in a way that almost makes his heart leap. “Please? Come to bed?”
Her gaze softens, the warmth and light that guides him back in her eyes, and he hopes his relief isn’t too visible. It’s then that she drinks him in. It feels too revealing like she can see right through him. His clothes are old. He’d rushed off the jet to see her, and the half moon circles under his eyes only lend to the unimpressive picture of himself. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” she breathes, touching the side of his face. He instantly leans into it, the contact more than he’d be willing to give up to save his dignity. “Come here.”
She wraps her arms around him, and he pulls her into his lap, squeezing her tight to his chest, like she might disappear. 
“I’m still mad at you,” she says, looking at him with such affection it betrays her words.
“That’s okay,” he says into her collarbone, “As long as I still have you.”
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captainmera · 4 months
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My God I love your depiction of the Wittebane brother ❤️
Do you think there might have been a chance that your Pip wouldn't kill his brother when Calec goes to Demon Realm? He seems way more tolerable of weirdness and is actually curious about the taboo things. That it makes me wonder if other steps were taken by people around him, maybe he would make different choices and not turned into a brother-killing genocide goop man. Obviously, the blame is still his for what he did, but I can't stop wondering what if.
And him getting along with Evelyn instead of hating her right of the bat is really cute.
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Thank you! :D <333
He grew up with this theatrical bisexual of a brother. Pretty sure the reason Belos didn't give a hoot on the Boiling Isles about queer stuff is because he kinda knew, and accepted, that Caleb was kinda queer. In some cases, people can ignore or bend certain rules for people they love. Even disregard them or pretend they don't apply or exist.
(long rant about writing and narrative foils and blah blah under the cut)
Unlike Caleb, I think Philip is the sort that only picks-and-chooses whatever rules he feels will supports his personal wants/thoughts and tosses the rest.
Caleb was not hiding it as well as he thought he did. lol.
I think that, sure, there was probably a turning point for Philip.
And absolutely, people around him influenced him. He's just a kid, a vulnerable one at that, in a protestant Christian cult.
I kinda like to think of it as a corruption arc. Mostly because it seems (to me) that the whole reason Luz was meant to have a depression-arc and Philip getting all "YoUrE JuSt LiKe Me!" thing was because.. There was supposed, I think, to be similar beginnings for them.
But Luz, in season 3, got depressed and felt a lot of guilt, so her arc is going from this happy-go-lucky kid interested in different things, to a depression arc where she questions herself. While Philip has a corruption arc, where he gradually goes from a well-meaning kid interested in different things, to evil and delusional.
I am also combining Luz, King, and the Collector into Kid-Philip's themes.
King is fascinating as a pre-narrative foil for kid-Philip. I think. As King was very clingy to Luz and didn't want her to leave, he too had a delusion about his own importance (disregard that it was kinda true in the end there). King tried to dictate (in that book episode) about what his and Luz' book should be about, how it should go, and it really hurt Luz' feelings. In the end, they solved it. But as a narrative foil, I think for the Wittebanes, they probably had a similar struggle on a larger scale, and it didn't get resolved.
The Collector, too! They're desperate to be close with someone, anyone, who gets them and wants to play on their terms. Kinda like Belos wanting him and Caleb to be witch hunters. Not accounting that Caleb is his own person outside of him-- Which, if you think about it, Caleb made his whole life (in my version anyway) about taking care of Philip. So I'm sure Philip felt like he really was Caleb's entire world. And then suddenly he wasn't. Because of a witch. The Collector, despite having this incredible power (just like Pip having his brilliant brain) is still a child and using their power in selfish ways. Not intentionally, I think, just out of a fear of abandonment or isolation.
I personally am in favour of nobody-is-born-evil-but-anyone-can-become-evil kinda thing.
I would like to explore how Philip gets corrupted.
I am slowly influencing Philip in my fanfic with little things that will, eventually, boil down to not so great moments.
The thing about delusions is that the person truly believes in it. Philip believing he's a hero has to make sense and feel believable.
Belos is a jerk. Philip isn't, yet. He becomes that jerk. But I don't want to write a sociopath. I also don't like using less-favourable mental illnesses as an "easy way out" to write why Philip became Belos and a genocidal maniac.
I have strong feelings about de-stigmatizing mental illnesses in writing, without romanticizing them or leaving out the really awful and less discussed sides of it. This includes diagnoses within all the clusters of the DSM5. I will not sit here and say I only support a diagnosis like Autism or GAD, and not things like Histrionic or Borderline.
And including people with MH issues and personality disorders is important, too, as well as not trying to downplay them.
People throw around Belos with things like Narcissism and Psychopath, without actually understanding what those means or what the different types there are. For example, is he a grandiose, oblivious or a fragile narcissist?
Yes, these disorders are looked down upon. A lot of people who have them aren't very nice people. But that doesn't mean they're evil or have no heart.
Lots of children can display early signs of these, and in a rough time like the colonial 1630s of America, it is not unthinkable that those rough times bred some dysfunctional people. I'm sure Philip has his own slices of pie as far as mental health goes, just like Caleb and many other struggling people.
But, I will not write from an angle that implies Philip just has darkness from the start in him.
There's a reason why I had Caleb go on a rant about being born evil in chapter 5. Because puritans, and Christians alike, at the time - truly did believe bastards were just... Half people. Did you know that if an orphanage found out a baby was a bastard, they wouldn't let it suckle the nursery goat's udders. Because they were afraid it would soil the milk and, in turn, might give the non-bastard babies bad influence. Somehow.
With that kind of logic in your culture, it's no rocket science that people would put nonsense together and think it made sense.
I'm much more interested in how puritanism and witch hunting culture influenced and corrupted Philip into becoming who he became, and why he refuses to budge on his beliefs to the point of murder.
As the owl house, the show, has commentary on systems influencing cultures in a bad and positive way. But in particular, the one Belos tries to influence the Demon Realm with; being a not-so-great way. So! With that as a clue: what made Philip turn bad, most likely, was partially the puritanism and its extremist ways. I think TOH is also a bit of a nudge at the HAYS-code of Hollywood and how it has trickled into most all the American culture-core. As it's both trickled into schools, morality, politics and other things outside cinema.
Just pointing at him and going "He's a sociopath because he became a genocidal tyrant" is, to me, cheap. Not only does it further stigmatising mental illnesses by implying only a disorder can make someone do such evil things. But it also disregards the most horrific truth of all; that the true monsters are people not at all unlike yourself. And that they, too, were children once.
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yesimwriting · 4 months
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Match Burns
A/n saltburn rewired a part of my brain
also my original idea was way too long for a one-shot so now i'm splitting it into 2 (maybe 3?) parts, if you'd be interested in that pls lmk lol
Summary: Despite your charm and kind disposition, Oliver has never been able to let himself be fond of you. Not with the way that Felix gravitates to you and your obliviousness to the attention. When you're invited to join him and Felix at Saltburn, his wariness of you morphs into an oddly suffocating dislike, until he realizes how to turn you into a way to get 'in' with Felix.
Pairing(s): eventual felix x reader x oliver, current oliver x felix (unreciprocated) and felix x reader (unreciprocated)
Warnings: potential typos (i'm tired yall), first time writing characters so potentially ooc?, canon-level toxic thoughts/plotting, some canon deviation (felix is alive and well to me and it's staying that way), oliver lowkey hating reader,, but kind of in the grown up version of a kid pulling another kid's pigtails when they have a crush lmao
----
The qualities that make the others adore you, that leave them with no choice but to treat you as some kind of dorm hall trapped princess, are the parts of you that make it difficult for Oliver to tolerate you.
You may not be the heir of some great fortune, the kind of commodity that can only be created through generations of pristine breeding and a lifetime of wealth that comes attached to that kind of pedigree. But you do have something.
His peers may see your self sacrificing nature in the ear you're always willing to lend or the time you're willing to give away without a second thought as instinctual kindness. But Oliver knows how to look beyond careful facades, the stained glass people use to warp the way they're perceived. He knows that your too sweet smiles and soft eyes are just your forms of social currency.
And the most off putting part of it all? The only person that can get away with pretending to not notice the way people react to you, is you.
Sometimes, when his thoughts drift to you without his permission, Oliver convinces himself that it's impossible for anyone to not see your softheartedness as the compensation that it is. And then someone--Felix, says something that is so transparently devoted, Oliver knows that it's worked. Give people what they want, and eventually you'll ensnare them.
Oliver let himself believe that he was finally reaching the peak of Felix's favor after being invited to spend the summer at his family's estate. Then, two days into his stay, Felix informed him that you'd be joining them at the end of the week.
The thought of you and your sense of humor that always seems to toe the line between witty and sarcastic; and the warm feel of your hand on his, or anyone's, arm, because when you listen you do so with your entire body; and your bright eyes that seem to see through everything but yourself, at Saltburn seemed to take something from this away from him. You didn't even need a sob story or to flash an indicator of something in desperate need of repair to get invited.
You were just you, and that was enough.
The way Felix told him only strengthened his chargin. She's friends with you, isn't she? I've seen you two together at the library.
The two of you. Not something that Oliver chose. You appeared one day at his side, on a too warm day for late November in Oxford. A too crowded library had the universe dropping you onto his lap. He accepted your presence because of the way the world seemed to light up for those around you.
But now there are no crowds of admirers to divide the attention. There is only Felix and his family, and with just two guests being invited to spend the summer, it'd be easy for the ultra wealthy to turn this into a competition for favorite pet.
It's also more than that. Alone here, it was easy to pretend Felix's attachment to you didn't exist. But now--now he could easily be the second favorite out of a set of two.
----
There was only one part of your arrival that Oliver was looking forward to, and you stole it from him.
He wanted to witness a crack, a wavering in your assuredness. The size of the estate would get to you, would make you--for once--seem small. You'd hesitate, maybe even see Felix in a different way that'd have you rethinking your friendship.
Your eyes had widened, a combination of shock and awe meshing together behind your gaze. Oliver could feel it, the moment that you'd reveal yourself as susceptible to shrinking in on yourself...and then your eyes met his, and the look vanished before it could fully take root.
You grinned at him and then at Felix, abandoning your luggage next to the car that picked you up before approaching them with unashamed enthusiasm. You pulled each of them into a quick hug, your warmth an ache against him. You didn't attempt to suppress your joy until Duncan appeared, standoffish as ever as Felix introduced you. That was just enough satisfaction to make Oliver want it more.
He's still thinking about it now, imagining just what it'd take to leave you vulnerable. You don't sense the resentful nature of his thoughts. You never do. Not even when Felix tells you that you'll be staying in the room connected to his through a shared bathroom.
Felix suggests giving you some time to rest before dinner. You accept the offer, tired from the back forth traveling from the UK to the US. Your visit to your mother had been so brief, you accepted Felix's offer so quickly. Maybe there's more tension in your family than you've admitted.
"She likes you a lot." Felix's low tone snaps Oliver out of his thoughts. It's a strangely nervous statement that doesn't make sense. You're friends with both of them, and if Felix means the statement in the romantic sense, he's wrong. Oliver's in the habit of taking note of the way people see him, and he can't remember instance in which you've ever looked at him like that.
He could see you feeling that way about Felix easily. You're around Felix often and while there is an underlying hint of stiffness when you're around him, it isn't a sign of dislike. You're determined to like him less, you're dedicated to not loving him. An amicable, but ultimately pointless goal. Who doesn't end up loving Felix?
Oliver doesn't know where this conversation is going, so he decides to keep his response simple. "She likes you, too."
"N--" Felix starts to deny the point, but realizes a full dismissal wouldn't be true. You do like him, it's just--it's different. "She trusts you." Felix shakes his head once, still uncertain. "I know we're friends, but sometimes, especially when we're alone, it-it feels like she sees me as a match that's starting burn too close to her fingers."
There it is. Oliver can't blame you for your precautions. Felix has turned the heads so many women--and some men--and he allows them to hang around him openly. His desirability, his options have never been secret. And your only overlap into his world is going to the same college. Oliver's even heard of you deciding to spend the night alone instead of with Felix because you don't always feel safe at those kinds of parties.
You're playing it safe, like a very good girl from suburbia, USA. It's your way of surviving, but Oliver can't quite respect the choice. You're smart enough to realize that loving Felix is like playing with matches, but you're not strong enough to realize that the proximity would be worth a few burns.
"I know we're a little different, but I don't want her to think I'd ever make her do anything." The obliviousness in Felix thinking that this is just about social circles is endearing in an odd way. "How'd you two get so close, anyway?"
Oliver isn't sure so close is the right way to phrase things. Sure, you're attentive and a little touchy, but that's just how people like you move through the world. Besides, if anything, Oliver thinks you choose his company so often because he's never given you the kind of desperate attention everyone else gives you.
Oliver forces a smile, pushing against the thought of being the one to bridge the gap between the two of you. It twists at his stomach. "What? Are you asking me for girl advice?"
Felix cracks a grin, playfully nudging Oliver with his shoulder. "You know how I meant it."
The words are light, but still another attempt at getting a concrete answer. There's an edge there that Oliver's familiar with, an implication of a feeling he's gotten used to. That chest tightening, what's so special about them? And now the Felix Catton is viewing him in that light.
Personal emotions aside, this--you--could be more useful than Oliver thought.
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zepskies · 9 months
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Hello my lovely friend! I would love to see an imagine/head canon of Dean and the reader seeing each other for the first time after he either comes back from hell or purgatory if you’d be up for it 💕 up to you whether it’s an established relationship or mutual pining 😉 thank you! 😘
Hello, my dear!!
Thank you so much for this imagine! I needed a bit of Dean. 😘
Now I went with Purgatory for this one (S8, E01 – “We Need to Talk About Kevin”).
I diverged from canon of Sam not looking for Dean to make sure if he was dead. Not just because I think that choice by the SPN writers wasn’t true to Sam’s character (Even Jared has said this lol), but because I think if Dean had a girlfriend at this point in time, Sam wouldn’t just abandon her to deal with Dean’s loss alone. 
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader
Song Inspo: Yes, I had one for this! Weirdly enough, it was the entire “Moneyball” soundtrack. The whole smooth but intense pace of it really drove me on this.
Word Count: 2,200 Warnings: 18+ only for some smuttiness.
Imagine: Reuniting with Dean, not knowing if things will be the same.
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You’re doing the dishes when your phone rings.
You check the caller ID, frowning when the number is unfamiliar. But you answer with a thread of wariness while you’re holding a glass.
“Hello?” you answer. For a moment, there’s silence on the line. Your brows knit together in suspicion.
For months, you’ve been living with Sam and Kevin in this dusty cabin in the woods. Literally, in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. It was the only way you and Sam could try to protect the prophet from Crowley.
So the fact that you're getting a call at all is surprising in and of itself.
Your frown deepens. “Whoever this is, you have three seconds before I hang the hell up.”
“Hey…it’s me.”
Your suspicion fades, but shock overtakes you. Your breath stills in your lungs when you hear Dean’s voice. However, your brain can’t compute.
It’s been a year.
“Sweetheart, are you there?” he says.
You finally choke on a gasp, and the glass slides out of your hand and shatters in the sink.
“Hey, you okay?” his gruff concern is so very Dean that it continues to choke you into tears.
“Dean,” you utter. Your mouth trembles as your eyes close, and your tears find their own way down your cheeks. “I…I’ve been…you’re okay?”
“Well, I’m here,” he answers, with some dry humor, but he sounds off. You don’t know what to make of that, but now you’re worried.
You look down at your shaking hand, and you realize that there’s a small piece of glass that ricocheted into your palm. You ignore it, because all you can focus on is your boyfriend’s voice in your ear.
“Where…are you?” you ask. Every trembling, heave of breath brings you closer to a sob.
“Louisiana. Clayton, Louisiana,” he replies. His voice is even, but there’s emotion there too. You hear it, only because you know him so well. “Where are you?”
And how soon can you get here? his tone implies.
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After Dean disappeared in the aftershock of Dick Roman’s death, you, Sam, and Kevin had been scouring every lore book on God’s green Earth. Nothing has gotten you closer to finding Dean in the last year.
You hadn’t allowed yourself to fully give up, but in recent weeks, you would never admit that your heart has been starting to falter. So has your body.
Sam watches you closely on the way out of the house, heading to the Impala. You’re grateful for the way he’s been looking out for you, but you also resent it. You don’t need help. You’re fine…mostly.  
As strange as it’s been living in this house, it’s become your safety blanket. Your cold shell where you can block off the rest of the world, as if time hasn’t been ticking by all these months outside of it.
But now you’re practically shaking. Call it nerves, lack of sleep, too much caffeine, too much crap food, stress, and grief. You ignore it, taking a firm grip of the passenger door handle and yanking it open. Sam drives.
The hours are excruciating. Your leg bounces restlessly, and Sam notices, but doesn’t comment. He does try to soothe you with your favorite music in the car. He tries to pick up conversation, but you’re not having it.
You’re even being pretty selfish right now. Sam had been without his brother for a year, just as you had been without. And here he is, trying to comfort you.
You can’t help it though.
You’re not okay. You don’t think you’ll ever be okay again until you see him.
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Sam eventually pulls into the dingy motel in the middle of rural Louisiana. (And yet, somehow on the corner of a Hustler, one of Dean’s favorite sex shops. Your lips curve slightly.)
Sam’s calling Dean on his cell, but you’re too impatient to wait for the man to come out.
You jerk the car door open, and in your haste, you don’t realize that you’ve slammed the door shut.
“Hey, easy on my Baby.”
You turn with a gasp lodged in your throat, but not even that can escape when Dean comes into view. Complete with red plaid and old jeans and rough stubble that approaches a beard, and a duffel bag.
Dean’s smirk fades into a softer grin when he takes in the familiar curve of your face, the gentle frame of your body, the sight of your tears, welling up in your eyes.
You take in a shuddering breath, and you go to him. Dean drops his bag so that he can properly welcome you where you’re supposed to be.    
His arms wrap around your waist, a hand coming up to cup the back of your head. He smells like motel soap and second-hand clothes, but all you care about is that he feels solid and alive and your heart’s just shy of shattering, or knitting back together. It beats a fast flutter in your chest.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he rumbles in your ear. You nod, even though you can’t help the way you’re shaking, crying, clinging to him.
“I’m sorry,” you say. You hate that those are your first words to him, but you can’t help it. That’s what you feel, down to your bones. “We tried so damn hard to find you…”
Dean pauses a bit on that, but he just shakes his head. He meets Sam’s gaze behind you and offers his brother a smile. Sam smiles back; he’s full to the brim at the sight of Dean, but for you, he’s patient. He can wait his turn.
“I know,” Dean tells you, holds you a bit tighter. “I'm all right. It’s not your fault, you understand?”
You draw another shaky breath and lean back far enough to see his face. You raise a hand to touch his cheek. When he stares down into your eyes, you know you’re going to be okay.
And so will he. You’re going to make sure of it.
In lieu of words, Dean leans down and captures whatever you might’ve said then with his lips. The kiss is heat and longing, both sweet and rough. It’s everything you need.
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It’s a long drive all the way back to your cabin in the woods. Dean checks on you often while you’re passed out asleep in the backseat. He’s back in the driver’s seat of his car, hands wrapped around the familiar leather steering wheel, but he still doesn’t feel totally…right.
Despite being wrapped around the leather, his right hand feels empty. Like it needs the weight of a weapon. He’s still tense and on edge, even now, and Sam notices.
“What was it like?” he asks, quietly so he doesn’t wake you. He’s glad you’re finally sleeping.
“Purgatory?” Dean scoffs. “Like being deep in God’s freakin’ armpit.”
Sam’s brows knit together, but he waits, seeing if Dean will continue. And he does, after giving Sam a brief glance.
“It was monsters, Sam.” A never-ending twilight. Never a moment to rest. A wide-eyed existence of gnashing teeth and blood and black ooze.
When Sam inevitably asks how he got out of Purgatory, Dean is vague, evasive. Castiel didn’t make it, he admits, also in halting detail. But Dean is more willing to focus on how tired you and Sam both look. How pale your skin is. How it seems like this is the first hour of sleep you’ve gotten all week.
“How’s she been?” Dean asks, once again checking on you through the rearview mirror. Sam inhales deeply, making Dean frown.
“She’s been holding on,” Sam replies. “Strong, for Kevin especially. Poor kid’s too scared to go outside half the time.”
Dean turns to him with a frown.
“You’ve been taking care of her, right?” he asks.
Sam huffs, with a wry smile. “When she let me.”
Dean quirks a bit of a smile. That sounded like you. Stubborn at your best, damn near impossible at your worst. But the latter is what he’s worried about.
He later carries you inside the cabin, acknowledging your sleepy mumbles that you can walk, but not actually heeding your words. Sam tells him which one is your room, and Dean carries you there. By then you’re awake, but resigned to the fact that he isn’t going to let you down.
Your hand smooths up his arm, up the back of his neck and into his hair. It makes a pleasant tingle run up his spine.
“Your hair’s gotten long,” you muse, sorting your fingers through the strands. His hair’s darker too, not quite so dirty blonde, now leaning closer to light brown.
Dean smiles a bit. “If that’s all that’s changed, then I’d say I’m in good shape.”
He lays you down on the bed, and you bring him down with you by grabbing onto the front of his gray undershirt. He sinks down onto the edge of the bed and drifts a hand from your arm, to your face. He refreshes his memory of every angle, the soft feel of your skin. He knows his hands are rougher, but you feel the same.
You draw him into you and it begins.
Kissing him feels like taking a much needed breath. The way he grips your arms when you lick sensuously into his mouth—a sudden squeeze, an iron hold—it ignites your blood and the fire in your lower belly.
Your fingers rake into his hair. His solid grip moves to your hips, and you lie back when he guides you onto the mattress.
The sound of your breaths mingling together become shallow as you shove the plaid off his shoulders and ruck up the shirt. He does the same for your shirt and jeans, followed by his own. All that’s left it his skin against yours and rough hands squeezing fingerprint bruises into your hips and thighs.
You don’t mind at first; the strength of his hold and how much he wants you spurs you on. You’re slick and pulsing with need when Dean eventually slides home inside you. He has a hand tight in your hair, gripping tighter as he begins to move hard and fast.
“Dean,” you pant. You moan on his name, but you’re also trying to get his attention. You wince as his hand tightens, both in your hair, trapped against the pillow, and on your hip. You hold onto his wrist.
“Ease up, baby,” you whisper. You don’t want Sam or Kevin to hear you, even though you’re sure they could guess what you and Dean are up to.
But Dean doesn’t seem to hear you at first. You look up into his eyes, and you’re not sure if he’s entirely seeing you. It’s not like him, and it triggers warning signals in your mind. You have to wrap your legs tightly around his hips, squeezing his wrist even harder to stop him for a moment.
“Dean,” you insist. And he finally sees you.
When you soothe a thumb against his wrist, his eyes widen. He releases his hand from your hair, bracing against the bed instead.
He frees the other hand from your hip, and he sees the shape of his fingers already forming in your skin. He knows his hold was tight enough to bruise down to the bone.
It’s happened before, but not like this. Dean’s never lost control like that. Not with you, even in times like these.
“Fuck,” he mutters as he catches his breath, frowning deeply. His green eyes meet yours, raw and guilty. “I uh…I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
You tilt your head at him with a thoughtful frown. You reach up to frame his face with both hands, and you wordlessly tug him down to you. Dean is somewhat reluctant, but he follows your guiding hands and meets your waiting kiss, tender and slow.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats against your lips. His voice is low and coarse, filled with the true depths of his emotions. Everything he's been trying to hide from you.
Your eyes sting with the threat of tears.
“It’s okay,” you reply, through sweeter kisses. “I love you. We're gonna be okay.”
He hesitates. Then, he nods, accepting your words and your warmth.
His hand slowly brushes against your thigh, soothing along your bruising skin. You still have your legs wrapped around his hips, but you lessen your own hold, now that he seems to have come back to himself.
You both realize then that it might not be okay for a while. But that too is all right. Because you’re nothing if not stubborn, and Dean is worth the challenge.  
He closes his eyes to breathe and center himself. They blink open at the feeling of your hand, insistent on his shoulder. Your face is both tenderness and determination.
You push against him and twist until he's the one on his back, on the bed, holding your hips, the two of you still joined. He looks up at you still with a measure of reluctance.
"I've got you this time," you tell him, stroking his cheek. His almost-beard prickles against your palm.
After a moment, you can see in his eyes that he believes you.
And you begin again.
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AN: Gaaaah, this man. I'm weak every time I write about him. 🥲
I have another Dean imagine coming soon. Some special anon asked for the reverse of "Sam being in love with Dean's girlfriend."
So stay tuned for "Dean gives you an impossible choice." 😉
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Dean Winchester Imagines
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Dean Tag List:
@hobby27 @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesdeanvessel @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @emily-winchester @deans-baby-momma @melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @tipthejar @ajjustice @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin
@theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @mrshalverson2021 @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @waters-2567 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @beskarfilms @skyesthebomb @deans-spinster-witch @tmb510 @iamsapphine @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @fabimaou @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @syrma-sensei
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528 notes · View notes
pikahlua · 3 months
Note
Wait pika do you really mean don't ask you about predictions? Some of my favourite Tumblr posts of all time are your thoughts, theories and predictions! :((
Please sleep also, but when you can let us know what's going on in that head of yours. I'm desperate for someone with a brain cell to discuss this chapter! (Twitter is a cesspit)
I mean, you can ask lol. I just sometimes get these vague "any predictions?" asks and it's like, YES. YES I HAVE SOME. BUT IT'S FAR TOO MANY TO JUST LIST LIKE THAT, CAN YOU PLEASE BE MORE SPECIFIC?
Okay, I'll tell you about my thoughts.
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This is a new frame of the scene in chapter 1. This perspective doesn't exist as a drawing in chapter 1, but we know pretty easily what this scene was about. Why is Horikoshi putting the scene here though? Why does this scene have the line "Let go of One For All"? Why not draw Kudou saying it, or Izuku's reaction to it? Is it because this is a memory of the scene where Izuku receives OFA, so giving OFA up is coming around full circle to this moment again?
I don't think so.
This is not the moment where All Might proclaims "you are worthy of inheriting my power" and Izuku looks up in shock. This is the moment where All Might says the words Izuku has longed to hear his whole life: "You can become a hero."
We're coming back to this moment now because the emphasis is on Izuku's upcoming choice. This is about the MEANING Izuku places in OFA. All Might told Izuku "you can't become a hero without a quirk," then shows up to tell Izuku he can become a hero...by giving him his quirk.
To Izuku, letting go of One For All is sacrificing his greatest dream. He believes by giving up One For All, he can no longer be a hero. Even though there have been moments where All Might let on that the reason Izuku deserves to have OFA is because he's already a hero, Izuku never seems to internalize that answer. He thinks his heroism is tied to being the bearer of One For All.
No one has ever told Izuku he can be a hero without a quirk.
I said before I had a big guess about why Katsuki's memory was wiped at the end of Heroes Rising. Notably, he is allowed to remember most of what happens. His memory cuts off from the moment Izuku passed One For All onto him. Do you remember what Katsuki said after he got OFA?
"This is the end of your dream then, too, huh?"
That's the last thing he ever says on the matter. Sure, it's the moment where Izuku answers with "It's okay if it's you" and all that, but Katsuki never responds to that. We don't know what he's thinking about this moment.
The only clue we have is the fact that he accepted the quirk from Izuku, and how he reacted to that. He seems quite upset by the prospect, but in the end he relents and accepts OFA willingly.
Perhaps the issue he is grappling with in his heart in these moments is not the fact that he has to inherit OFA but that Izuku has to lose it. Which means...the reason he loses his memory is because his reaction is important. It's a moment we will have in the manga, which makes it a spoiler.
We've never heard Katsuki tell Izuku what he thinks of quirklessness now. All he's ever told Izuku is that way back when, he thought it meant Izuku was supposed to be beneath him. He doesn't even tell Izuku why he felt like somehow Izuku was actually above him.
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He's also only ever told Izuku his actions were correct ever since he received One For All, nothing about before.
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I think Katsuki's reaction to Izuku losing OFA--which could come before the final battle or after--will have to be about his feelings regarding Izuku's quirklessness. I think Izuku is going to be incredibly hurt by losing One For All because he'll think he has lost his dream, and Katsuki is going to have to set him right, because only Katsuki knew who Izuku was before he had One For All. All Might is the only other person who had at best a glimpse of Izuku.
I think Katsuki has been coming to terms with just how special Izuku is, how heroic he always has been, and that he's the only one capable of acknowledging it in a way Izuku will be able to hear because he knew Izuku before he got One For All. I think he's been grappling with this possibility ever since DvK2.
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And I think he grapples with it again in Katsuki Bakugou: Rising.
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In the same way Izuku saw something great in Katsuki that he wanted to cling to so he could see what Katsuki would one day become, Katsuki has always seen something great in Izuku, which awed and scared him. Their greatest divide was in not knowing what greatness the other saw in them. Katsuki has to tell Izuku what Izuku is to him.
Katsuki has to tell Izuku the words he's always wanted to hear, that he can be a hero, quirk or no, that Izuku always has been a hero, more than anybody else. Katsuki knows the truth of it firsthand.
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fellthemarvelous · 19 days
Text
Without hope, we have nothing.
(Spoilers and speculation included a bit further down)
This is actually a post about the Bad Batch and not Star Wars Rebels, but this bit is important so...
Try not to cry when you remember that Tech is the one who taught Hera Syndulla how to mask her ship's signature, a move that made her a massive threat to the Empire and a move that she often used to her advantage. She was such a threat to the Empire that they wanted to capture her alive so they could make an example of her for her years of defiance.
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And then also try not to cry when you remember that when Hera was taken prisoner by the Empire, Kanan Jarrus sacrificed his life to free her and save the future of the Rebellion. Try not to cry when you think about the fact that Kanan Jarrus aka Caleb Dume was the Jedi padawan the Bad Batch protected (except for Crosshair) from the Empire during Order 66 by claiming Hunter killed him.
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Hunter, Tech, Wrecker and Echo lied to the Empire to protect a Jedi.
And Tech taught Hera how to evade the Empire when the Bad Batch helped her family (Chopper included) escape Ryloth after being accused of treason.
Clone Force 99's actions had a direct outcome on the success of the Rebellion. They refused to commit treason against the Republic and all they did was commit treason against the Empire. They were strong enough to resist the effects of the inhibitor chip (Crosshair and Wrecker for awhile), outright ignored Order 66 (Hunter and Tech), or were tortured and turned partially into a machine against his will by the Techno Union and used as a weapon against the Republic who, upon rescue, immediately jumped back into Separatist territory and fucked their asses up (Echo). Luckily, with the help of Rex, they got their chips removed after Wrecker tried to kill all of them.
Everything under the cut is pure speculation. I'm having a galaxy brain moment, I just have no idea if it's pointing me in the right direction or not lol.
If you disagree with me, I don't need you to rudely tell me why.
After his time on Tantiss, Crosshair can now identify with Echo more than anyone else in the Bad Batch (and Tech if CX-2 is Tech).
When they went to rescue Echo, Crosshair is the one who snidely told Captain Rex that he would have left Echo behind too.
Which is exactly what happened to Crosshair when the Empire turned him into a weapon against his own brothers. He had no choice because the Empire attached him to a machine and amped up the effect of his inhibitor chip so he could not disobey orders.
Rex told Cody "I think Echo is still alive" and Cody told him that was impossible. Anakin accompanied him on this rescue mission with The Bad Batch (we know Cody would have too if he hadn't been injured).
I think that if Tech is CX-2, Crosshair already knows or highly suspects it. He's terrified of Tantiss. I think we're going to have a parallel moment of Crosshair possibly saying the same thing, knowing that he could never leave a brother behind again after what he went through, especially if CX-2 is Tech. (I also wouldn't be surprised if Omega suspected something after her trip back to Tantiss with CX-2.)
We never saw Echo's body after the explosion. Instead we got this image. An empty helmet and a droid arm.
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Crosshair defected from the Empire when he witnessed the Empire tell him that Mayday was only a clone and not worth giving medical attention to. Those actions resulted in the death of Mayday and that's when Crosshair chose to shoot an Imperial officer between the eyes (similar to Dogma's execution of General Krell in many ways).
If Tech is CX-2, that is the second Bad Batcher the Empire has turned into an enemy against his brothers.
This is the last we saw of Tech.
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Hemlock was fucking lying when he said that Tech's glasses were all they recovered. Why the hell would he have found Tech's glasses and not Tech? All we see below him are clouds. And this is the last bit of Tech we see. That gun is in the shot with his glasses for a reason.
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I feel like this is going to parallel Echo's rescue from Skako Minor. Tech and Echo are both highly intelligent huge ass nerds (remember that the battle plans being used against the Republic were written by both Rex and Echo, and Cody acknowledged that Rex was one of their best strategists in the GAR) who always ended up working best together.
Part of me wonders if we are heading into a show centered on the clone troopers in a post Order 66 world going up against the Empire as they try to rescue more of their brothers. Enough to become a problem for the Empire.
Part of me also wonders if the inclusion of Force sensitive children in the Bad Batch means Rex will need to call Ahsoka into the fray. Wolffe has only appeared once so he hasn't even switched sides, let alone even started blocking Ahsoka's messages to Rex yet. During the Clone Wars she had to save Force sensitive children from Darth Sidious. During the Rebellion, the saved more Force sensitive children from Darth Sidious. It makes me wonder if she is also going to save Force sensitive children from this too? I might be reaching a bit too much here, but it could be a possibility! She seems to always show up when Force sensitive children need to be rescued from Darth Sidious.
No matter what ending we get for the Bad Batch, I know it's going to leave us with hope for the future because the message in Star Wars has always shown us that hope will always be stronger than fear.
A simple act of kindness can fill a galaxy with hope.
Without hope, we have nothing.
These episodes are all relevant to Echo's journey. The Domino Squad was referred to as a bad batch and Echo was the one who seemed to struggle the most with orders that conflicted with doing what needed to be done. He is the one who memorized the regulations manual after all. And now the Bad Batch are on a similar journey because they have never trusted regs before, but now it seems they might have to trust the regs to come to help them the way they helped Rex and Echo before the war ended. The way they helped Gregor after the war ended.
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If I'm wrong, I'm wrong, but that's a fanfic I can always write!! I don't want to get into who I think is going to die or survive, but I have my suspicions there too and I'm already in too much pain to keep going.
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megamindsecretlair · 5 months
Text
The King and I, Part 1
Pairing: King Ghezo x Virgin!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. This is more background than anything, so mentions of violence, violence against women, brief mentions of rape, torture, murder, slave trade, and suicidal ideation. Hopefully this will be 3 parts, will lead to smut! Ya heathens, I know what you here for LOL. And you all deserve forehead kisses.
Summary: Raised to be perfect, your father has had it with your disobedience. He marches you to the palace and throws you at the King's feet. You'd rather die than be another person's property. But the King surprises you in many ways.
Word Count: 3,533k
A/N: Couldn't get this idea out of my brain and it definitely doesn't follow the canon in the movie. AH well, LOL. I love it and that's all that matters. Hopefully, my brain continues to cooperate. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!
Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion
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Before you had a chance to be a little girl, you were coveted for your looks. How pretty you were. How nice your hair was. Paraded out in front of many odd, adult people who looked at you with strange things in their eyes. Things you were too young to understand.
As you got older, it only got worse. You were expected to sit there like a doll and let people talk over you or around you, as if you were no more than grass beneath their feet. Wind in their hair. Something always there and easily ignored.
So you made the decision to be seen. You gave opinions when they weren’t wanted. You stayed in other people’s business. You resisted and rebelled. It was nice while it lasted.
Your father made sure to curb you of such habits. But somehow, the punishments never took like they were supposed to. You continued to speak. To use the gifts the gods gave you. If they did not want you to speak, they should have taken your tongue.
At his end, your father gave up his pursuit of a wealthy match for you. “If you will not listen to me, I will give you to someone you have no choice but to obey!” Spittle flew from your father’s mouth.
As you were marched to the palace, that was the one thing you focused on. Your father was a proud man. Perhaps you had gone a step too far if he was letting spit fly from his mouth with abandon. This was the least of your concern, true, but being cast off on the newly appointed King Ghezo was too big to face head on.
People in the village watched as you were marched there, your father’s grip on your arm near bruising. His thick fingers were wrapped around your upper arm. He set a brutal pace and walked forward whether you were able to keep up or not. You stared at the people. You made them look at you.
You didn’t expect them to do anything to help you. No one ever lifted a finger to help little girls. You were many years an adult by now, but to everyone, you were still so young. Young in the ways of the world. But growing up, weren’t you taught the ways of the world? 
The powerful were in charge with no one to challenge them otherwise. While everyone else was sheep, forced to do their bidding. 
Your feet tripped over rocks in the dirt road. Your father continued marching. The palace gates were not far now. Dread started to inch its way to your heart. You had never seen the King, but you heard how your parents whispered about him. How he was both similar and different from his father and brother.
His father had been a cruel man, living in ways that your people hadn’t lived before. Surely, his son would be no different. When you learned that you were going to be given to the new king, you pictured how ugly he must be. How cruel. 
Your father was handing you over like a piece of meat. Handing his daughter over as if he had no hand in birthing you, raising you, guiding, and protecting you. Now you were nothing to him. You looked at him as he jostled you down the street. His eyes were set forward, a frown on his face.
Did he not feel anything at all? All these years you had been in his care and there wasn’t an ounce of feeling in him.
“Did you ever love me?” You asked. You were out of breath and it was said softly. Perhaps he didn’t hear you. You hoped. You didn’t really want to hear his answer. Hear that despite everything else, he did not share that love for you as you did for him all these years.
“You are an insolent child. I will make more of you. I will instill in them obedience where you had none,” he spat. 
You refused to cry. You had an idea that he didn’t truly love you. Sometimes he’d look at you with such…hate. As if you were a stubborn stain he could not remove. You thought it was because of your looks. Because it was all anyone could talk about. But even when it was just you and your mother, he would still look at you as if he could cast you out with a single look.
At the palace gates, the guards halted your father. The red doors were large, stretching high above you. Anyone who went in, never came back out. You heard whispered words about why the King would need so many women. There was talk of him eating flesh. If he sold it, was there a big stretch to eating it? 
You’d die before you got eaten. As your father argued with the guards, telling how he had a disobedient child that the King could do whatever he wanted with, you made the second biggest decision of your life. You will die before harm befell you. In whatever form that was. 
If the King forced himself on you, you’d kill him and take yourself with him. If he tried to put you in a stew, you’d make him watch as you bled all over his fancy robes. The guards finally opened the gates enough for you to peek through.
Women were engaged in combat. Your mouth dropped open at how fierce they looked. You were not allowed to look upon the Agojie when they returned from their battles beyond the walls of the kingdom. But now you dared not to look away. 
Your father pushed you forward. One of the guards caught you and you turned your head to your father. This was the most satisfied you had ever seen him. He hoped that the King did something awful to you. He was counting on it.
You straightened up behind the walls of the palace. You looked your father in the eyes and you smiled. You spat on the ground at his feet, that smile still on your face. His smile faltered, rage contorting his features. You turned your back on him and walked into the lion’s lair.
The guards handed you off one by one until a young guard escorted you to the front of the palace. In the training yard, men and women walked around with heads held high. It had never been your intention to become Agojie, but perhaps the mad King will let you once he found out how unsuitable for a wife you were. 
The thought of killing anyone made you ill, but it would be better than to be bound to someone who could have you killed with one word. 
The guard took you to the door that led to the inner palace. An Agojie met you there, a tall woman with beautiful features and sharp nails. She looked you up and down and conversed with the guard. You didn’t pay attention. You were marching to your death, what did the particulars matter? 
The woman took possession of you, leading you into the inner palace where it was women only. Everywhere you looked, there were Dahomey women walking freely. They laughed! They trained, they ran, and hugged each other without abandon. There were a few women from other tribes there, but…this sight robbed you of clear thought.
“You will catch flies if you leave your mouth open like that,” the Agojie said. 
The Agojie stalked forward, a hand on the hilt of her weapon. You briefly wondered how you could steal one unnoticed. You searched around you. There were weapons everywhere but there were so many Agojie, you doubted you’d be able to capture one. 
“What’s your name?” You asked.
“Nanisca,” the warrior said. “You’d do well to listen to whatever the King wants.” 
You didn’t need to be reminded of the King’s cruelty. It was all your father taunted you with for days as he made his decision to hand you over. You followed Nanisca to the palace proper. There, a man dressed in bright purple robes greeted you. He was bald with lots of jewelry hanging from his nose, ears, and around his neck. He looked you up and down and then rolled his eyes towards Nanisca.
“I suppose we will have this to look forward to from now on,” he said.
“As long as our King breathes air,” Nanisca said. She left you there with the man. 
“Come,” he said. You followed him, though dread made your steps wooden and your limbs frozen. You were too deep to escape now. But escape to where? Outside the kingdom, you ran the risk of slavers. Rapists. Murderous thugs who would know where you came from and kill you just for being born in the wrong tribe.
The palace was nice, almost peaceful. There was the clank of weapons outside. Grunts and sounds from the Agojie as they practiced. The palace was big but also felt empty. As if there weren’t a lot of people there.
The King must be fat then. Perhaps he ate all the servants and would-be brides. The bald man led you through to a chamber with many chairs. On a raised dais, there was a large throne and a smaller one beside. 
“Wait here,” the man said. He twirled and disappeared down the hall. You took a step forward, looking at the displayed riches and art work. If a king was cruel, did he know anything about art? Or beauty? 
“Is this necessary?” You heard mumbling and turned towards the door, ready to face the King head on. To see what kind of monster your parents have subjected you to. 
A young man walked in, with thick curled hair and light facial hair. He wore robes of gold, his robe split open revealing a well defined chest. He stood in the doorway and gazed at you as you did him.
He certainly didn’t look monstrous. You knew that evil things often came in the prettiest packages, but he was beautiful. Strong. Solid. 
He was still your new jailor, you mustn’t forget. So you stood there and looked him in the eye. You were not a victim and you will not be treated as such. 
“What is your name?” He asked. He pressed into the room further, looking you up and down with desire in his eyes. Your parents taught you well. How to spot it in others. 
You told him your name and he repeated it. As if to savor it around his tongue. He walked closer until he was within reach. Up close, he was even more handsome. You had to fight yourself from getting distracted by his looks. He was still cruel. You remembered all the horrible stories about his brother. He couldn’t be any different.
“So your father has given you away to me.” 
It wasn’t a question, but you answered anyway. “He has, my King,” you said.
“Do you wish to be given away?” He asked.
You gasped and looked at him. You looked to the bald man for help but he was turned away from the two of you. You looked back towards King Ghezo. It was the first time anyone had asked what you wished. For it to come from a king who should not care what you wanted…you weren’t sure what to do with the information.
“N-No,” you said.
King Ghezo nodded. “I wish I could make it easier for you. But you are too beautiful to be Agojie and if I turn you from this palace, you will have nowhere to go.” He reached for your hand and you snatched it from him. He smiled patiently as he held out his hand to you.
He was only pretending to be nice. A stupid, hopeful part of you had thought he wasn’t like the stories. He was worse. Still, he was correct. If he turned you away, you had nowhere to go. Once you had been here, everyone would assume the King used you and not deemed you worthy. Cast you out like a whore. You would be forced to sell your body. 
You took his hand. He gripped it lightly and smiled. He kissed the back of your hand. “Welcome, my Queen,” he said.
The next few days were a blur. King Ghezo’s first wife saw to your preparation for the wedding. The eunuch from earlier saw to your lessons, what was expected of you. No different than what your father had wanted from you. To be on your best behavior and only speak when spoken to. 
You hadn’t seen the King since then, but you caught glimpses every now and then. You were given your own quarters and servant, someone to tend to your needs. It was odd to have someone help bathe you, but the King preferred cleanliness to all else. He was vain on top of a liar.
The feast arrived in no time and you were painted up like a doll. At the wedding, you stood there as expected. If you had smiled any harder, it would have split your face in two. You had stood there like a goat on the pasture, ready to be bought and chopped up. King Ghezo studied you, encircled you, and found you acceptable. You had been tense, near trembling. You hated every second of it.
But now you are married. You sat beside King Ghezo at the high table, while he joked and laughed with his advisors. His other wife sat on your side, quiet and dull. You pitied her. The fight had left her long ago. You were still young. There was still time for you. While everyone smiled and laughed and enjoyed the feast, you hid a knife up your sleeve. It wasn’t that sharp, but it’d do the trick when the King tried to climb in your bed tonight.
You smiled in his face and feigned an innocent routine. You waited for the casual cruelty. When he would hiss for you to shut up, eat more, eat less, sit up straight. It never came. He only gave you brief glances, each always polite. A smile on those plump lips. You couldn’t shake your resolve though. Tonight, you’d be free. Whether free in death or free in life was entirely up to him. 
That night, you lay in your bed. There was a door there that led to a small balcony overlooking the rest of the kingdom. It was mostly the trees in the forest, but they were tall and mighty and more than the view you got back home. You did not spare your father a thought, but you thought of your mother. It had not been her choice to marry such a cruel man. 
It had not been your choice to marry a cruel man either. However, you felt as if you had a child, you would have moved the heavens and the earth to protect it. To not let what happened to you, happen to your own daughter. You supposed that dream was gone now. You’d either die tonight and never have a kid, or face the wrath of the kingdom and bear one without your permission. Somehow death seemed kinder. 
You did not want to die. But how could you live within these walls? With that monster? Admittedly, you did not hear any screams late in the night. His first wife seemed unbothered. Untouched. She had borne him his first son, so perhaps he left her alone. And perhaps goats flew over the moon. 
Men were only interested in one thing from a woman. And it was not her brain. 
A soft knock tore you from your musings. You tensed up, sliding your hand beneath your pillow to wrap around the handle of the knife. Maybe if you pretended to be sleep, he’d come back another night.
The door pushed open, soft feet padded inside, and the door closed again. You lay on your side, turned towards the open balcony. If you screamed, would no one come to your aid? 
“Are you awake?” King Ghezo’s soft voice reached you. You didn’t answer. Your breaths were stalled in your chest. Your hand cramped from holding the knife too hard. 
The King poked at your shoulder before making you roll over. “I know you are not…”
You sat up and had the knife at his throat in one fell swoop. The King’s eyes widened, but he looked at you, not the knife.
“Will you kill me, my Queen?” He asked. 
You pressed the knife into his skin, hard enough to know you meant business but careful not to break the skin. You were already committing treason, but somehow, it was important not to mar the king. 
He stared at you. Those deep brown eyes set in such a handsome face. You looked for the cruel man you heard about. Where was he? You could harm a cruel man. They deserved it tenfold. Why wasn’t he making this easy on you?
“I don’t want to,” you finally admitted. “I have to.”
“Why?” 
What did he mean, why? “Aren’t you angry?” 
“Angry at a scared woman who has no one on her side? No,” he said. He was so calm, so patient. This was at odds with everything you built up about him in your head.
“Don’t pity me,” you said. You pushed the knife in deeper. 
He leaned away and held his hands up. “I do not pity you. I will not pretend to know your life. But I can promise that you’re safe here,” he said.
You scoffed. “I’m not safe anywhere,” you said. You pressed your lips together. That hadn’t been what you meant to say. You meant to throw it back on him, that he could not promise safety when he dealt in the slave trade. When he looked at his people and only saw money from white devils. 
His eyes softened and he slowly smiled. “No man intact can enter this palace. Beyond that, we are protected by the fiercest warriors in the world. Beyond them, there is a first legion still to defend this palace from enemies. Here in the heart of it, you are the safest you’ve ever been.” 
“But who will keep me safe from you?” 
King Ghezo leaned forward, making you choose between cutting him or retreating. You eased up on the pressure. “You can do a finer job protecting yourself than most women can,” he said.
You stared at him. Your arm began to shake from holding the knife for so long. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t kill him. You were weak and would never be accepted as an Agojie. You would never fare well beyond these walls. 
You dropped the knife on the bed and held out your wrists. “I’m ready for my punishment, my King,” you said.
King Ghezo let out a long breath. You noticed now that he wore a deep, royal purple that highlighted his rich, dark skin. He wore minimal jewelry. He was just that magnificent on his own. Especially when the candle light flickered across his features.
“Punishment?” 
“I’ve threatened the King. I am ready for whatever punishment you hand out,” you said.
The King ignored the knife on the bed between you. It was within his right to take it and kill you. Or take it as evidence of your deceit. He could brand it for all to see as he threw you out of the palace. 
He did none of those things. He reached out his hand slowly and enclosed yours in his. You stared at your hands in comparison to his. He watched you as he brought your hands to his lips and placed a small kiss there.
“Plot how next you’ll kill me. If I have not convinced you of my intentions, of my character by then, you may carry through,” he said.
“What? No, no!” You said. You pulled your hands back but he held on. He pulled you closer until your hands were pressed against his warm, smooth chest. 
“Keep the knife, my Queen. This will be interesting between us,” he said.
This was surely a trap. A way for him to play and toy with you while he tightened the noose about your neck. Or gathered wood to burn you alive. Or for the Agojie to sharpen their swords to take your head with it.
“My King…”
“One day, I wish for you to call me your love,” he said. “But I will earn it or die trying.” A cocky grin spread across his face. It transformed him from a king to a man. A man who you were married to, sitting on your bed, with intentions involving you. 
He placed one more kiss on your hands and then retreated from the room. He never gave you his back, but he did smile and bow. Then he was gone from your room. A chill from outside caressed your bare skin and you shivered.
Was the king truly mad? Or were you? And why did he make you want to find out which?
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Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
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mmani-e · 4 months
Text
I've finally finished my Danganronpa AU personal project! I personally call it
DANGANRONPA: DEMIX
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And yeah, all the swaps as you can see above, and these guys in the middle are the replacements for Monokuma and Usami respectively:
Check out under the cut for some design insights on my take AND closer pictures of each pair:
Finally finished my personal AU project. I hope it's to everyone's liking!
I can go on forever about these designs but I'll limit myself to one-two sentences on some facts about the designs.
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Mikan: Mikan's face tattoo was commissioned on her against her will so that she can never hide her nature as a Yakuza, but her leg tattoo was done on purpose, and she and Nagito have matching tattoos on their legs, his is just hidden most the time.
Nagito: He is usually seen with a spear and prefers the weapon over the sword, but he is more famous for his natural skill with the blade. That said, he resents the blade and wishes he could be recognized for the things he actually works hard to do, like throwing spears or protecting Mikan and her family.
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Ibuki: I kept her design very similar to her base design because she pretty much just looks like a student, and I don't want to change anyone's personality so there's no reason for her to not get highlights. But I gave her some more symmetry in this design and gave her a cute little semi ahoge I guess with a hair tie, bc she doesn't naturally have one.
Imposter/Gamemaster: Yeah I made the big brain choice to keep him with his colors as "Byakuya" because it made for a more striking visual, and more recognizeable as the impostor. Also I made him too tall because I wanted to give him big legs lol.
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Hiyoko: Her four cats are named Heart (scraggly cat), Mr. Pearls (sleepy cat), Big Red (Giant cat), and BB (black cat) bc canonically the four dark devas are named after shonen manga, I named her cats after pokemon games, which she canonically likes playing. Also chickens are her favorite animal, despite her love of cats.
Kazuichi: Kazuichi's not a natural born prince, through shenanigans it turns out he's extremely distantly related to some royal line in a microstate north of germany called "Nordsumpf." Their main exports are cars and Kazuichi is still new to being a prince.
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"Kyoko": She'd try her best to act like Kyoko, but she's a little too meek and openy affectionate to pull it off properly. Also her knockers are way bigger than Kyoko's, so there's an immediate discrepancy to the trained eye.
Also in my au of DR1, Kyoko is the ultimate affluent progeny and Makoto is author/serial killer.
Hajime: His hair is actually extremely long back there, he just keeps it tied up. On shows he lets it all out and a wears red contacts, his stage name is "Izuru."
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Sonia: Sonia became a team manager because she was escaping an assasination attempt, strolled into a junior laegue soccer game, took over for the coach and started just barking orders and the team won. They were the worst team in the whole league and after that she just sorta stuck around them and won them the championships.
Gundham: Gundham was orginally meant to wear the japanese flag… but there was too much white in his design so I cut it. He has names for all of his gymnast moves and he announces them very loudly when he does any of them.
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Peko: I tried to give Peko a unique sort of "zombie survivor" kinda vibe so while she's clearly a mechanic first she can also just fucking kill you by braining you with that monkey wrench. Most of the time she's cool though, she's just like horribly dependent on other people to tell her what to do, so she attaches to Kazuichi because he's the most immediately available authority figure.
Fuyuhiko: He's got that sort of machismo that makes him not like to admit he loves dancing, but the moment he's complimented on it he'll really appreciate it. Also he's still part of a crime family, but it's just not as strong as Mikan's.
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Akane: She really looks sporty still, but don't worry she's definitely "lucky," she's just much more focused on the future than her bad luck in the moment… which can be very bad, actually, and can make her come across as kind of aloof.
Nekomaru: Why is nurse Nekomaru not as common a thing. Just think about it, it's perfect. Nekomaru here got inspired by the bravery and hard work of the nurses that treated him and boom he became a nurse, nobody tougher than healthcare professionals after all.
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Mahiru: Mahiru as a nurse is honestly a really really really fun concept but I feel like I wasn't very ambitious here, and I can't really show it through the drawing but one of my early drafts had her look more like a european chef a la gordon ramsey bc I headcanon her as a scot.
Teruteru: Decided to give him a raincoat which my sister pointed out to me could also be a trenchcoat, which is just PERFECT for a creep like him. It just writes itself man, though seriously he's mostly a landscape photographer who specializes in pics of the countryside. Still a huge perv tho.
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Usowa: Name is a combo of Usagi and Chowa, the word for Harmony. She's less like a chaotic force of nature like Monokuma and more a manipulative and hardline teacher who coaxes the students into doing awful things by playing into their insecuritoies with motives, and which then causes them to kill, allowing her to punish them, "weeding out the weak and undisciplined among their ranks." She replaces Monokuma.
Kyojuma: Name is a combo of Kyoju (professor) and Kuma. He's a pretty silly guy with an easy temper to poke at, but he's good at heart and tries his best to be a more sort of "fun" teacher than the rules lawyer Usami kinda was. He just wants to help his students, too bad Usowa showed up and decidedly does NOT like his approach.
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redclercs · 10 months
Text
DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.
xi.it’s okay we’re the best of friends
— the one where all you do is think about the feelings that you hide.
warnings: guys, my brain was failing during this so not really proofread, also please pretend the dress is the same in both pics lol, alcohol consumption. 2.5k words.
currently playing: drive by halsey!
masterlist ✢ next
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Liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, mati.bassi, tchalamet and others.
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softyn FIRST POST SINCE MAY AND MOTHER WANTS US DEAD
ynstars I LOVE YOU SO MUCH SLAY
aid4anfeels ugly bitch
lecsainz516 whose wedding is this, charles and carlos were there too
formulayn did @/charles_leclerc take these?
liked by charles_leclerc
THE COMMENTS FOR THIS POST ARE LIMITED.
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August 5th, Madrid, Spain.
WHEN Charles said you needed to make new memories in Spain to replace the bad ones, you didn’t have a wedding in mind. However, with the rollercoaster that is your life as of lately, you don’t swim against the current anymore. Just going with it is not a bad way to live when you’re still trying to reach the surface and get away from the wreckage.
Things aren’t good. Not yet. The press is still having a field day with all that he said, she said merry go round. Aidan and Victoria are fighting to play the victim and Mia Kim is on a mission to paint you as the worst sister-in-law who could have ever existed. Which, to be fair, paints her in a weird Freudian light.
But things are better than they were the last time you were in Spain. And that’s something to be grateful for.
“Are you sure?” You asked Charles on FaceTime for the third time that night two weeks ago, he had just asked you to be his plus one to one of his Ferrari mates’ wedding. “Are you a hundred percent sure they won’t mind?”
The last thing you wanted was to feel like an intruder, and with the type of attention you carry around like a dark cloud over your head, ruining someone’s special day was not an experience you wanted to add to your repertoire.
“Of course they won’t mind, soleil.” Charles assured, he was still in Hungary after the Grand Prix. “Tommaso told me I could bring anyone, and I want to bring you.”
The last time you saw Charles in person was in New York City, almost two months ago. It doesn't mean, of course, that you stopped communicating. Whenever Charles is on his phone, you can be certain you'll receive a text, a picture or a random iMessage drawing. You handle time zones as best you can without sacrificing too much sleep time, especially for the one who has to drive a car at 300 km/hr.
Although he insisted on you coming to any Grand Prix of your choice, you thought it best to stay away from the paddock for a while. Plus, you had some work to do. You didn't love Talk Shows while promoting, most hosts did horrible, unfunny jokes, and you were the butt of a lot of them, but if being in some of them helped you to speak about your situation and dismiss whatever rumor Victoria, Aidan or Mia (or just about half the internet) had going on, you were willing to make the sacrifice.
You were also willing to attend a complete stranger's wedding just to see Charles again, but you didn't want to give that thought the depth it demanded from you. Not in the seven hour flight from New York to Madrid, and not now, as you're getting ready for Charles to pick you up to go to the wedding.
Your blue dress is frankly magnificent, and you are aware of how good you look, but it doesn't hurt that the first thing Charles does when the doors to the lift open, is compliment you. Well, to be fair, the first thing he does is gather his thoughts and try not to feel stupid after basically picking his jaw up from the floor.
"You look gorgeous," Charles says, clearing his throat. His sudden anxiety makes you chuckle, as his Adam's apple bobs up his neck. "I missed you so much, soleil."
You are mildly disappointed when he doesn't hug you the way he did back in New York, and you dismiss the feeling almost as quickly as it appeared. Although his words linger in the air, he missed you, and you did too.
"I don't want to ruin your hair," he explains, as if he's read your mind, and smiles wider.
"Right," you shake your head, it was obvious. "You look pretty good yourself, Charlie," you add, always trying to return the compliment, and only managing to make it awkward.
There is something about men in suits that makes them twice as attractive, and it's unfair when it comes to someone like Charles, who is already way too handsome as it is.
"Thank you," Charles is always nice enough to accept your half-assed, anxiety induced compliments. "Shall we?"
You nod, and when he offers his arm to lead you to the car, you link yours through it taking a breath so deep, it makes your lungs ache.
"Do you like weddings?" Charles asks as the engine of his car roars to life. A red Ferrari is the only way you manage to describe it, afraid of getting details wrong. Although you're certain Charles would patiently explain anything you needed to know about it, you don't ask.
"Everyone likes weddings," you reply, setting both hands on top of your knees. "Right?"
Charles chuckles and shrugs, "I guess so,"
You love weddings, except when you're expected to be the bride.
"Charles," you pat his shoulder and he takes his eyes off the road for the briefest second. "Are you completely sure the bride doesn't mind my presence?"
You don't want to give yourself some sort of importance you don't deserve—the bride has more important things to worry about—but particularly nervous about how your presence will be received at the celebration.
"Seriously, y/n," Charles soothes, his right hand leaves the steering wheel and searches for your own blindly, accidentally landing on your empty lap. He takes his hand back immediately, red creeping up his neck. "It's fine." he resolves, his sight way too focused on the road now.
"Alright," you whisper, smoothing the skirt of your dress. "Alright."
Both of you remain silent the rest of the way as you take in the Spanish landscape and Charles drives like his life depends on it. You promised yourself you'd ask for as much information on the happy couple as you could, but your voice is lost in the pit that opened in your stomach.
And the evening is just beginning.
It's after the ceremony, at cocktail hour that you find everything out about Tommaso and Bárbara thanks to none other than Carlos Sainz, who seems to really have a thing for gossip and also, for making fun of you for crying during the vows.
"Leave me alone, Carlos," you warn for the last time, this time threatening him with your closed fist. "Not my fault you don't have a heart in that big-ass chest."
This makes him laugh harder, and even Charles chuckles against the lip of his whiskey glass.
"I miss you so much around the paddock, y/n!" Carlos sighs, patting the place above his heart. "For real."
You click your tongue. "Sure you do,"
Carlos and you talk a lot less than Charles and you do, of course. But if Charles calls you during whatever free time he has while in the Ferrari Suite, you can trust Carlos to insert himself in the conversation.
"And a lot of the other drivers do too," Carlos' tone is mocking again, and you glower at him.
"Stop picking on me," this time you punch him on the shoulder.
"I'm being serious. Lando has a crush on you,"
You talked to Lando a few times, mostly when he and Carlos were being boys and hitting each other in the balls outside the Ferrari Suite and Lando made small talk as he tried not to touch his private parts. A crush is an exaggeration, Lando just told you he thought you were cool for making movies.
"Why don't we take some pictures?" Charles suggests before downing the rest of his whiskey. You don't miss the look he gives Carlos.
"Why not?" you smile at Charles, shrugging. The place is beautiful and you would love to have a memory of this whole thing that you can go back to.
"I'll catch up with you guys," Carlos calls as you two walk away, uninterested in the impromptu photoshoot.
Charles directs an annoyed look at him again and then makes it go away to return his attention to you.
"What was that?" you ask, taking Charles' arm again for him to lead you to where the rest of the guests are more scattered and won't photobomb your pictures.
"What was what?" Charles lifts an eyebrow, forever the expert at playing dumb. Or, not really.
You shake your head, this is another deep thought you don't want to venture into. There is enough of this weird tension already, and you're not sure if Charles feels it too.
─────────
"Your girlfriend is beautiful," a lady is patting your hand, a gentle smile on her face as she looks at Charles. She's the spouse of another Ferrari team member, and the first thing she did was compliment your dress before even asking for your name.
"Oh, I'm not—"
"We're just friends," Charles clears up, gentle as well. "But y/n really is beautiful."
The woman raises both eyebrows and laughs, an 'oh you kids' snicker that isn't unkind. "Of course, of course."
It's the first time of many during this party that Charles has to say you're not in a relationship, and it seems to get easier every time the words come out of his mouth.
Although it's true, you're not sure why it nags at you.
You cry again during the couple's First Dance and verbally threaten Carlos to leave you alone as you wipe your tears carefully, doing your best to keep your makeup intact. He laughs, but takes your threat seriously and remains quiet. This whole Tom and Jerry thing is amusing but he doesn't want to actually make you angry.
A few songs in, after you're done bickering with Carlos and you have finished your third glass of champagne, Charles asks you to dance with him.
An slowed-down version of Sixpence's 'Kiss Me' plays as you take the dance floor. You blame your giddiness on the fact that you finished that flute of champagne in record time.
"What is it?" Charles questions, smoothly placing one hand on your hip while the other holds your palm. His thumb runs up and down the curve of your wrist.
"What if I step on your foot?" you retort, looking up at him. That's only one thing that makes you nervous, although you know how to dance. You took lessons for both Supercut and Parisian Valentine.
Laughter bubbles from Charles' chest and you join in, although this makes you even more nervous. It would be stupid to say you don't see how handsome he is, even if he's just your friend.
"I won't mind," Charles promises, and his fingers press a little harder against your hip bone.
"Okay, then."
It's obviously not a complicated endeavor to sway around the dance floor with Charles, he lets you set the pace, lacing your fingers together after you spin back to him.
"Thank you for coming with me, soleil," he says in a low voice. You can smell the alcohol in his breath although it's been a while since he stopped drinking, he still has to drive you back to your hotel. "I really missed you these two months."
"I love weddings. Thanks for inviting me," you squeeze his shoulder, the contrast of your manicured nails against his shirt distracts you momentarily from the fact that you can feel his breath against your jaw.
It's the second time today that you miss the chance to tell him you missed him too, and you know he notices it by the way he leans away.
The song ends before your tongue decides to respond to you again and Charles lets go of you. A few seconds feel like an hour as you stare at each other, unable—or unwilling—to say anything of what either of you really want to say.
"Care to dance?" a guy with longish hair and dark eyes is offering you his hand now, as a faster song starts and the lights around the room turn brighter.
You break eye contact with Charles and when you look at him again, he just nods, taking a step back to your assigned table.
"Sure," you tell the guy, a tense smile on your face. "Let's dance."
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The ride back to your hotel is silent again, and you're too tired to find a way to fill it.
Charles' energy has shifted and this makes your stomach turn. Your anxiety worsens every time you feel someone is 'off' towards you, and that someone being Charles makes it a hundred times worse.
He takes the elevator to your room with you, placing his hand gently in the middle of your bare back to let you in first.
"We're okay, right?" you whisper, looking at your distorted reflections on the silver wall of the cubicle.
You see Charles' reflection frown and then his face turns to you. "Of course we're okay, y/n. Is something wrong?"
You shake your head, the loose strands of your bun tickle your nape. "I'm just wondering."
Charles is never bothered by your need for reassurance, not even when he needs reassurance himself. That he's not being a complete and absolute moron by wanting the woman all the boys want to dance with, and holding onto that little slither of hope that he might have a chance with her. He's the one standing next to you after the party, still.
"We are okay. Didn't you have fun today?" he asks, pushing those thoughts aside. You're friends. Just friends.
"Of course I did!" you inhale sharply, "I just— nevermind." you take your hand to the back of your head, already tired of the half undone bun that threatens to give you a headache.
"I had fun. I always have fun when I'm with you," Charles follows you out of the elevator and down the hallway to the third door marked with a 3321.
You're still struggling to find the exact hairpin that holds your hairdo together, and Charles pinpoints it almost at the same time as you do, pulling it out swiftly to make your hair fall down your shoulders.
It's a meaningless gesture, Charles hasn't given it a second thought or stopped walking. But a shiver runs down your back as his knuckles graze your nape.
"Thanks, Charlie." You say, swallowing.
"Of course," Charles puts the pin inside the pocket of his trousers with a shrug.
You stand in front of the room for a minute, having a stare down again as you rub the back of your head.
"Thank you again for today, Charles." you're the one to break the silence, keycard already between your fingers. "I had a great time."
"I'm glad, soleil." Charles his dimples appear when he smiles and your breath hitches when he leans towards you. It feels like you've been showered with ice cold water. "Good night, y/n," he says and presses his lips against your cheek.
"Good night, Charlie," you wave him goodbye from the door as he walks back to the lift.
The feeling of his lips against your skin is there, even after you've washed your face and tucked yourself into bed.
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─── team principal radio: ❝thank you for reading! surprisingly, i don't have much to say this time other than i really hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that I appreciate each one of you dearly!♡❞
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poorlittleyaoyao · 4 months
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An Exhaustive Explanation For Why Qin Su Took Her Life Of Her Own Volition
(Or: For God's Sake, Please Just Let Her Have This One Thing)
Okay, so let's leave aside the fact that Wei Wuxian is an unreliable narrator. At the point in the novel at which he insists that Jin Guangyao must have forced Qin Su to kill herself somehow, Wei Wuxian has also insisted that Lan Wangji would totally hate it if he knew they'd made out while drunk. Let's also leave aside that Wei Wuxian himself will reassess his opinion of Qin Su's death later on, and IIRC says nothing about it either way in the drama, because the people who insist that JGY Definitely Killed Made Her Do That sure do. A narrator being unreliable doesn't mean we can't trust anything they tell us, after all; it just means we need to compare their views to outside evidence, the way you would with a primary source document.
AND WHEN YOU DO THAT
IT STILL MAKES ZERO SENSE
Picture all this from Jin Guangyao's standpoint. Let's assume for funsies that you don't care about your wife who is also your half-sister, and have no compunctions about killing her to keep the incest secret. Wouldn't you just... do that? Wouldn't you kill her the second that little paperman flies away and you hear the alarm?
"He obviously couldn't do that! The paperman saw her alive so it'd be weird if she suddenly was gone!" Yeah, and everyone at the cultivation conference saw her alive when they came into the treasure-and-torture room, and it would be even weirder if she suddenly stabbed herself to death in front of them.
"Ah, but he needed to know who sent her the letter! He can't afford to kill her!" Wow, hey, that's right! You, Evil Jin Guangyao, have just spent the preceding scene wheedling and then threatening Qin Su so she'll tell you who send the letter, and she stood firm the whole time! So forcing her to kill herself in front of everyone when she still hasn't told you that important piece of information would be PRETTY DUMB, wouldn't it? (Almost as dumb as giving her the opportunity to interact with all the people you're trying to keep the secret from, but hey, maybe it took you longer to hide da-ge's head than anticipated.)
"Maybe he'd given up on getting her to tell him anything so her killing herself was to divert suspicion away from him!" Okay, first of all, how is "your wife (whom nobody but you has seen recently) kills herself with no warning" going to make things look LESS suspicious? Second of all, things were going JUST FINE. You hid da-ge's head. People were buying your "this cursed cabinet is where I keep my former boss's soul-stealing knife" story. You haven't even subtly brought up Suibian to change the subject. The narrative misogyny means that nobody has directly talked to Qin Su and "of course my wife also hangs out in our house, lol" is flying just fine as an explanation. You had almost put out this fire! Why would you throw gasoline on it by making Qin Su kill herself?
Honestly, the smartest thing for you to do in this situation would be to knock your wife unconscious and move her to her sleeping chambers or a couch or something in the main part of the palace. That gets her out of sight and renders her unable to talk in a way that won't raise suspicions, and gives you the option of going "omg guyyys my wife is sleeping :( this totally unwarranted search of our home is gonna wake her up :(" to make people leave!
But, okay. Let's shift our perspectives here. Jin Guangyao has a history of making deranged choices when he's in Panic Mode. Maybe his brain short-circuited and, somehow, he decided that MAKE QIN SU KILL HERSELF IN PUBLIC was the best course of action. Wei Wuxian himself tells us that she wasn't under the influence of talismans or anything, so somehow Jin Guangyao convinced her to do this with his words. Never mind that we just saw Jin Guangyao deploy an ungodly combination of feigned ignorance, gaslighting, actual sincerity, veiled threats, and manipulation with zero impact. Somehow, he used his words successfully.
What could he possibly say?
Picture all this, now, from Qin Su's standpoint. Your entire world has been shattered. Your husband who is also your half-brother has been lying to you for your entire marriage, has done nothing to reassure you that he didn't murder your son, and has sealed your meridians to prevent you from fleeing. He then brought you into a secret room in your home that you didn't know existed and which, you discover, houses his sworn brother's severed head. All you know is that you cannot tell Jin Guangyao who gave you the letter because you're certain that he will have her killed. Shit's real fucked and you have nobody to help you.
Now every sect leader in the jianghu--including your husband's remaining sworn brother, your young nephew, and your nephew's maternal uncle--has shown up to search your husband's home. His top priority in this moment is quashing their suspicions so they leave him alone enough to regroup.
One of three things must be true for you.
1.) Your top priority is survival. You don't want to die. If you care about your reputation, you know that you're as screwed as he is if word of this gets out, and unfortunately the only way to survive is to play along with your husband's weird shit, at least for now. In that case, the best way to assure him that you're on his team is to help him assure the other sect leaders that Everything Is Normal And Fine. If you don't want to die, then you're not going to be susceptible to any insistence that you kill yourself.
2.) You're so furious that you don't care what happens to you or your reputation as long as you take Jin Guangyao down with you. In that case, you'd tell him whatever he wanted to hear and then IMMEDIATELY scream to the other sect leaders where Nie Mingjue's head is currently located, or you'd drop the incest bomb yourself hoping that the paperman is somewhere in that room and can back you up, or you'd grab that dagger and stab your husband, or some combination of all three! You're not going to quietly kill yourself at his request, because you've suffered enough for his bullshit!
"Well, maybe he didn't threaten her. She's going to be worried about Bicao and her father. Maybe he threatened one of them!" Yeah, maybe, but that's a threat to get someone to cooperate. You can't make sure they're still alive if you're dead! And if you're convinced that this guy has lied to you constantly for the past 10+ years, you're not going to believe him when he says"kill yourself and I'll be niceys to them." There is nothing at all that he could say to make her harm herself if she hadn’t been so inclined.
And that leaves
3.) You're in such despair that you actively want to die. You can never trust your husband again. You can never trust anyone again, honestly, because he wasn't the only person you loved who kept this secret from you. You don't trust that the other sect leaders will do anything to help you, just as your mother didn't trust that anyone would do anything to help her all those years ago. (When they barge into the palace and walk straight past you as though you were a piece of furniture, your distrust is confirmed.) Maybe, despite everything, you still love your husband too much to kill him. Maybe you fear that, without evidence, he will be seen as an innocent victim and you will be seen as his mad, murderous wife. Maybe you don't care what happens to anyone else, but you know that you don't want to deal with this anymore, and you are the only one you trust to help yourself escape it.
The tragedy of Qin Su is that she is never permitted to make a fully informed decision about her life. At least let her final action be something she knowingly chooses.
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seokjinsonlyone · 5 months
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most to least likely to want you to make the first move
tae: the thing about taehyung is that he's a coquettte like he 100% loves to be pursued like i swear this happened irl but it always feels like i'm making it up bc i can never find the post but i think in 2020 there was a time period of like a month or two and we missed him soooo bad and then one day he randomly popped up and was like yeah i be browsing through here but i ain't say nothing bc i liked seeing y'all say y'all miss me like 😐 so yeah he loves the thrill of it all he loves the thought of having you wrapped around his finger me thinks gonna tata mic in yo face until you have no choice but to conquer him
jk: we have him on record saying "if you want me, come get me" so there's that but also okay i know jk ain't super shy no more but at the same time social settings still aren't his forte like he still has trouble figuring out when to jump into conversations and you can definitely tell when he ain't got a single thought running through his brain so i feel like you initiating will take the pressure off also this man is literally a perfectionist and a procrastinator like i feel like he been done took so long to ask u out u not even interested no more gotta strike when the iron hot with this one skskkslks
joon: he loves people he loves making connections and he loves reciprocal energy so if he's feeling you and you reach out first i think he'd love that fr like someone bold not tiptoeing around him not afraid to express what they're feeling it's gon do it for him every time
suga: i bet yoon really doesn't mind either way like he's not afraid to go and get what he wants and he appreciates people with a similar mind set
jin: i don't think he's opposed to it it's just that he needs to have you figured out before there's any forward movement and then after he figures you out he needs to figure out how he feels about it and you if it's even worth progressing forward so if you were to interrupt that process by moving before he's ready it would confuse him and he'd be very hesitant bc he doesn't wanna just outright reject you but he doesn't wanna just go for it either LOL he just needs a lil time; if he already knew how he felt about you however you making the first move would be awesome it'd save him some time and energy
hobi: he wouldn't be mad at it right but i feel like he's more traditional with it like ugh i love him so much he's such a gentleman so i feel like he'd wanna do the whole asking out pick you up for your first date at your doorstep bouquet of flowers in tow like he doesn't mind you being bold so if u wanna be an obvious flirt or whatever do yo thang but i do think he wants to take the lead
jimin: don't get me wrong i know jimin likes to be liked he likes to know that you know he knows you like him 100% but i get the feeling he likes the allure of the chase even more like you coming on to him may intrigue him for a good time but if you really want him i get the feeling that you gotta play the long game like very much give and take tease play his game until he has no choice but to give into it
a/n: luh calm post sumn breezy sumn light sksskls crazy thing about this is i've had this idea and ranking in my drafts for like a year and then this morning i scrolled past and was like huh that makes sense and then my brain kicked into gear and told me why LOL sorry i'm slow as molasses but take this snack as apology and i maybe 👀 hopefully 🙏 may have something a little more substantial before the year ends <3
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buggyjuggie · 7 months
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Here are some random headcanons/ideas about johnny/johnshi that have been brewing in my autistic brain for a few days :3
Headcanons
• Johnny has been a hug fan of Van Damme ever since childhood. He tought of Van Damme as his idol.
• Johnny still is in contact with his mom and she’s the only person in the cage family that knows of Johnny’s and Kenshi’s relationship.
•Johnny Kitana Millena Syzoth and Ashrah have movie night every week
• He likes it when Kenshi runs his fingers across his chest tattoo
•He’s also extremely ticklish
•Johnny is autistic (TRY AND CHANGE MY MIND I DARE YOU) his hiperfixations are movies(duh) and history
•Johnny is actually really smart and people tend to be surprised when they come over and see that he has a college diploma
• For special events he’ll wear a black pencil eyeliner
•He knows how to take care of himself like bro probably has 24 step skincare routine, uses hand moisturiser ALL THE TIME, wears lipglosses/vaseline, clean healthy nails, a bunch of different types of shampoos ( clean girl aesthetic)
•If Kenshi had a dificult or stressful day Johnny will let him lay on his chest (titties)
•Johnny is the best when it come to gift giving. While to others it may look like Johnny doesn’t listen to anyone but himself he actually remembers a lot of details about his friends and while it may look like he’s not listening he’s actually doing the exact opposite.
•Smoke sees Johnny as an older brother and sometimes asks him for advice or just to hang out
•Johnny and Kitana and besties they go clothe shopping often and talk about drama from both hollywood and outworld
• He teaches the characters from outworld how to use technology like phones, TV’s ect.
Ideas
(Feel free to take these if you want because i can’t write fanfiction to save my life lol)
• Switched AU- very simple Johnny and Kenshi switch places so instead of Kenshi loosing his eyesight it’s Johnny who looses it
•Double date- Kenshi and Johnny go on a double date with Tanya and Millena or Syzoth and Ashrah (or any ship of your choice)
•Cuddle fic- i don’t get how theres so little fics of them just cuddling and being domestic gays (LET MY BOYS BE HAPPY AND CUDDLE)
• Ghost fic- ok i know i just said there needs to be more fluff BUT I’m also a sucker for hurt comfort so essential johnny dies or has to be killed and his soul goes into Sento and that way he can communicate with Kenshi (i have a full post with more details)
•Childhood-Johnny tells Kenshi about his childhood after he noticed the little things about johnny that dont make sense or are concerning ( can you tell im a sucker for hurt/comfort)
Sorry for the bad grammar english isn’t my first language but i hope you enjoyed reading my rambles :3
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joyfuladorable · 3 months
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Fuck it, here's all my favorite Mikey-centric fanfics!!
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There's A LOT + personal blurbs, so they're going under the cut (Mostly AO3, but there are some FFN links, too. Also, besides like the first two, there's no favoritism in the order)
2k3:
Pretend That I Never Left by redstringraven(sirimiri) - Complete/Plans for an Epilogue & Sequel!!
Fic that changed my BRAIN?! If my fanart [1 | 2 | 3] for it is any indicator, lol. I'll say for the umpteenth time that if you're looking for an Excellent Mikey fic with Perfect Characterization, this is IT (and you don't need to know ANYTHING about HZD trust me TRUST ME this fic deserves WAY more love) His swift ride-or-die friendship with Aloy will melt your damn heart!
Dragon of the Sun by ForestWhisper3 - Ongoing
My Other TOP favorite Mikey fic!! Again, fanart [1 | 2 | 3] indicator! Slow Burn(ish) Canon Divergence of Mikey unlocking his Mystic Powers as his family looks on in dismay as they struggle to protect him. The Good Shit!!!
Of Darkness And Light by Bayluff - Complete
OOOOOOO THIS ONE! Very good (also drew fanart for it)! Evil creature literally trying to consume Mikey's lifeforce from within as his family scrambles to help
A Chat With The Titan by secreterces5 - Complete
Mikey has a fun one-on-one talk with the supposedly reformed Bishop in Fast Forward. Mikey vaguely threatening Bishop, HEEHEE
A Simple Act Of Kindness by UlisaBarbic - Complete
That feel when you put your worth in what you can DO and the wish to be Acknowledged and the ONE thing you thought you did right was taken away OOGH AGH OOOOGH
Difficulty Breathing by RealityBreakGirl - Complete
Mikey did not come out of Grudge Match unscathed *smile* Truly one of my favorite 03 Mikey prompts to read about (honestly just check the entirety of the Grudge Match tag on AO3 for a fun time)
"A delivery boy! Uh, or turtle." by LollyHolly99 - Complete
Fic that has the distinction of being the first one I ever did fanart for! Gender Feels for Mikey cuz they're just like me FR!!
What Darkness Most Fears by UlisaBarbic - Complete
OOOGH AGH I LOVE THIS ONE!! Mikey has to save his bros from the clutches of an evil spirit while surviving horrifying monsters and battling a wicked fever!
Michelangelo by ForestWhisper3 - Complete
Mikey through the eyes of his family and how much they respect him and know him UwU
Mikey's Jigsaw by SailorSaysAhoy - Complete
Another awesome gender Mikey fic HOOHAA
Train-Wreck of Thought by halogalopaghost - Complete
When you're so talented you learn how to astral project but you start using it for pranks instead of understanding the drawbacks of said power and that bites you majorly in the ass big time (very good my stomach turned while reading this /pos)
A Brother's Bond by SuperKat - Complete
Mikey gets Real Sick and the fam can't help but remember last time one of them got so ill. OH MAN heartstrings WILL be pulled in this one!!
The Most Wonderful Time of the Year by moogsthewriter - Complete
Why can't Mikey ever catch a break during Christmas! A short fic that I enjoy Immensely for Mikey being stubbornly heroic and his family desperately trying to play catch up to help him
Questioning Choices by Mystic Medjai - Complete
Fun day at the beach goes catastrophically bad and the fam has to make difficult decisions to keep Mikey alive. THIS THIS THIS!! If I could pour this into my veins for the perfectly paced plot and characterization...
When It Counts by Kallasilya - Complete
Short fic of Mikey stubbornly and bitterly proving his brothers wrong (+ Don being a good brother)
Favourite Disease by devirnis - Complete
Mikey is forced to save his brothers as his body gradually falls apart from the inside. SO GOOD UGH Mikey being forced to deal with situations on his own always show how far he can Shine!
Nowhere Boy by taizi - Complete
OOOH I dunno how I can summarize this without giving the plot away but just know Mikey pulls through by thinking of his family
To Fit the Crime by T33la - Complete
AHHH AHHHH AHHHHH AHHHHHHHH!! Mikey is accused of Murder and receives his sentence before his brothers can even jump to his defense! Oh the twists and turns of this murder mystery!!
you want to know why i sit and sigh (the night is so young it hurts) by love_killed_the_superstar - Complete
Angel and Mikey bonding over comics and unsupportive brothers So Cute)
imma be real with you (cause i started being real with me) by love_killed_the_superstar - Complete
Leo and Usagi being supportive of Mikey as he struggles to train for the upcoming Battle Nexus fight (and also maybe they flirt with each other a teensy bit)
just a hop, skip, and a jump away by baba_buoy - Complete
Mikey sick fic. Heart melting amounts of comfort UwU
Weak Link by yellowhollyhock - Complete
Sweet fic of Mikey feeling insecure about his place on the team, and Leo going through great lengths to prove him wrong like a good older brother :')
'Cause you are the sun, he is your moon/And though he can't speak, he will thank you soon by naivesilver - Complete
Post-Grudge Match Mikey waking up in the middle of the night bitter and sore and gods damn why's Raph awake, too?
Hunted by DysfunctionalRequest - Complete
Mikey wandering the woods alone in the middle of the night and having a VERY unfortunate encounter with hunters
Flipbook by T33la - Complete
Heartfelt moment between Mikey and Don concerning SAINW that makes me want to smash a cinder block against my head /pos
Dramaturgy by Completely_Unaware - Ongoing
Mind the tags! Mikey deals with a Battle Nexus loss in an unhealthy way (UmU)
The Red Means I Love You (Work) by AnonymousCritter - Ongoing
MIND THE TAGS! AU of Fast Forward. Mikey isn't saved from the traffickers in time and things spiral from there
The So-Called "Champion of the Battle Nexus" by 0ozero0 - Ongoing
Grudge Match canon divergence where Mikey gets hurt a little more seriously than in canon (but still wins)
2012:
Devil took your hand by moogsthewriter & taizi - Complete
Mikey mind controlled by the Shredder moment!! *laughs through my pain and tears and screaming*
walk with open hands by taizi - Complete
Mikey gets his hands on one of Renet's watches and things go topsy turvy from there (and it HURTS ME)
(un)reality by SpectrumWriting - Complete
Mind the Tags! Dimension X AU where Mikey is captured by the Kraang and is put through the wringer in more ways than one (OWIE)
evermore (Dimension X AU) series by coffeejellyenthusiast - Complete?
Mind the Tags! Mikey was in Dimension X for over a year and he's NOT OKAY
Gravitational Collapse series by Writing_In_Denial - Ongoing
MIND THE TAGS!! An Incredible it gets worse before it gets better series of Mikey being unintentionally abandoned by his brothers post-series and dealing with some Major Isolation and OOOGH IT HURTS ME SO MUCH BUT I WILL KEEP READING FOR THE EVENTUAL COMFORT
traveling so far to get there by taizi - Complete
Mikey and Raph getting stuck in an empty, post-apocalyptic world and struggling to survive (their BOND IN THIS IS SO SWEET WEH)
Rise:
nice, nice by postergirlsprank - Complete
Short fic of Casey Sr and Mikey bonding after an unfortunate encounter while on a snack run (Hey if you want more context for how this author writes Casey, go read his fic Imperfect Animals too heehoo)
either way, we're not alone by sinaesthesis - Complete
Mikey throughout the years of the Kraang Apocalypse (Lots of Loss and Hurt and Badassery)
going under by redhairedmuses - Complete
Mikey almost drowns during a fight with a mutant
Hyperactive Hypothermia by VeryAngryGremlin - Complete
After Mikey's winter wear accidentally goes in flames and a villain-enduced avalanche, Donnie struggles to keep his baby brother warm
that’s where the blood’s supposed to be! by Dragon_Scales_and_Fairy_Tales - Complete
With Raph and Leo constantly bickering, Mikey ignores a very serious injury after a fight with Meat Sweats
Clever Little Dino! by VeryAngryGremlin - Complete
Mikey trying to keep a robot pet a secret and suffering the consequences
Vs The World by DysfunctionalRequest - Complete
The aftermath of the Kraang strains the family's bonds, and Mikey feels hopelessly alone (and definitely isn't dealing with his trauma properly)
Empathy Amplified by Filsamek - Complete
When you accidentally use your powers to connect with your brothers' emotions then purposefully use them to ease their pain
Sunshine in the Rain by Carnati0n_bl00m - Complete
Probably the first fic I read after watching the Rise movie cuz I wanted to find something Mikey-centric involving Bishop and BOY does it deliver with the additional bonus of Leatherhead!! (also hey look fanart)
A Mystic Connection by rytheoneandonly - Complete
Mikey's mystic powers manifesting and evolving in ways he could never predict (aka Long Fic of Mikey stumbling to figure out why he wakes up exhausted and hurt every night)
The whole world in your corner series by GibbousLunation - Complete
Two fics of Mikey being Mikey and his bros being protective
Better Check Twice by Marz_Zero - Ongoing
Bishop captures a turtle with a bear trap (OW) and is an absolute bastard about it
Come Home Soon by Sherlock_Brolmes - Ongoing
With his brothers unavailable, Mikey (with the help of a former enemy) uncovers a massive conspiracy involving New York and the Hidden City. I LOVE THIS I LOVE SOLO DUO TEAM-UPS!!!! *PUNCHES THE AIR 13 TIMES*
Mikey's Artistic Guide to Dealing with Trauma and Fame by Origami_Nami - Ongoing
Mikey using graffiti as an outlet and accidentally becoming famous
Rook by unorthodoxx - Ongoing
Another Bishop fic of him outwitting the turtles to abduct one of them (Mikey)
Multi/Other:
Mystic Malfunction by VanillaVengeance - Ongoing
Rise Mikey accidentally portals himself to the 2012 Universe and struggles to survive and avoid this other version of his family (with mixed success). The progression of familial bonds in this is just *Chef's Kiss*
The Gauntlet by T33la - Complete
A mix of IDW & 03, a wonderful showcase of how Donnie and Mikey support each other (also, a cool invention and a big rocket and a terrifying near-death experience are involved)
I Get Knocked Down (But I Get Up Again) by Justalittleobsessed - Ongoing
MIND THE TAGS!!! Set in its own original iteration, Mikey has been immortal for as long as he can remember, and he's used to his occasional deaths (and revivals). But then his brothers find out... (AGH AGH THIS ALSO HURTS MEEEEE BUT OOGH the comfort and hope of the later chapters is so Worth It)
Whumptober 2023 series by Justalittleobsessed - Ongoing?
Collection of Mikey-centric one-shots from different iterations and feeling the HURT (Personal favorites are If Only the World Could Stop Spinning..., Just a Flesh Wound, and Not the Best of Days)
To Know Peace (You Gotta Let Go) by Deadpool1763492 - Ongoing (technically)
The Last Ronin Spoilers!! Mikey survives and whisks the new turtle tots away to live on a farm instead of being raised as soldiers. (AUUUUUU THE FEELS!! THE TOTS! MIKEYYYY!!!)
How to accidentally kidnap yourself several times over by Camildeni - Ongoing
Rise Mikey gets captured and accidentally summons other iterations (03, 12, and Bay) of himself trying to get out! They do NOT have a good time!! (but at least they have each other)
the dad diaries by angelmichelangelo - Ongoing
More TLR Mikey being a Dad (and dealing with his trauma sorta kinda)
The neighboring cell by SaltyYagi - Ongoing
2012 Mikey and Rise Leo trying to escape Dimension X together (and bonding)
Bonus Non-Mikey-centric:
Weathered Strings, Tethered Wings by Deadpool1763492 - Ongoing
(2003) SAINW AU!!! With the possibility of Don being alive dangled in front of them, the remaining turtles begrudgingly reunite to save him. Drew a cover for this with more art to come! LOVING the slow burn of reconciliation between these bitter old turtles UwU (Bitter Old Mikey my poor Bestie)
Mutant Nightmare by HamsterMasterSamster - Complete
(2003) The immediate aftermath of Worlds Collide
Hanging By A Turtle by CamsthiSky - Complete
(Rise) Literally the turtles struggling to get out of a deep pit they're hanging over
Shell Game by T33la - Complete
(2003) OKAY OKAY SO!!! OOGH Don encounters something Impossible while prepping a tracking device (for himself) and it snowballs into another Renet-involved time adventure (AND UMMM lots of existential contemplation and a surprise historical guest who's Very Cool)
Turtle Power by halogalopaghost - Complete
(2003) Immediate aftermath of the star ship reactor explosion in Exodus
Disposable by orphan_account (kudos to you wherever you are, author) - Complete
(2003) Bishop captures Don and Mikey and gives them a terrible choice
Dissection by AmevelloBlue - Complete
(2003) So much Comfort after the trauma of Worlds Collide (ie Don's interrogation and Mikey almost getting sliced open)
Find the Road by SillySocks - Complete
(2003) Perfect encapsulation of the family as they cope with Leo's absence while he trains with the Ancient One
Handle with Care by HamsterMasterSamster - Complete
(2003) April is seriously injured during a mission and has to deal with the turtles distancing themselves from her as she recovers
mind-body problem by hiraethseok - Complete
(2003) April and the Turtles Being Siblings the Fic
Healing in Tandem by Eggstasy - Complete
(2003) Canon divergence of Worlds Collide where Splinter is just a little too late to intervene before Bishop starts sawing into Mikey's shell
Let's Take Ibuprofen Together by GreenGoddessSmoothie - Ongoing
(2003) The turtles swap body and have learn to cope with each other's chronic pain
Not the Face I Know by GreenGoddessSmoothie - Ongoing
(2003) Mikey accidentally makes a wish that changes his family's lives forever (THEY'RE HUMAN THEY BECOME HUMAN AND THE PLOT IS COOL AND ALSO QUEER THEMES MY BELOVED)
The Great Skittle Heist of 2105 by AmevelloBlue - Ongoing
(2003) AU of Fast Forward where the Dark Turtles are babies instead and are very swiftly adopted by the Fam
The Labyrinth by HALFnHALF1 - Ongoing
(Mix of IDW/03) The Turtles wake up separated in a labyrinth with only a mysterious voice in their heads to guide them (and manipulate them)
“You didn’t tell me your extended family was in town!” by BoStaffsAreCool - Ongoing
Post-Turtles Forever. The 03 fam is Just beginning to wind down after the events of the movie and look who's knocking at April's door (the 87 turtles)
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ughgoaway · 1 month
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10,19 or 30 teacher!au 🥺 ps We’ve missed you!
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omg hi, my love!!! I've missed YOU! very good choices, by the way, so I decided to include them all lol. I hope this is okay, I'm still a little rusty with writing, but I had fun writing this nonetheless :)
10- “You're so warm, and it turns me on so much”
19- character A holding character B’s hands as character B eats them out, fingers intertwined.
30- being ate out so good they can't stop the lewd noises coming from their mouth.
18+ below the cut please!! includes female receiving oral and general smut. 1.4k ish <3
✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿
The sun pours in the bedroom window, streaks of sunlight falling over the duvet and illuminating your face, the soft glow of the light heating your cheeks. You can't remember a time you've felt this good before, curled up with Matty under his thick duvet, buried under the layers to avoid the harsh chill of the concrete bunker.
You can feel Matty pressed against you, his chest against your bare back. His skin is that perfect level of warmth that makes your head spin.
You can feel his curls brushing the back of your neck as he wakes up, moving his head down to start pressing kisses to your neck.
“Mmm, morning baby,” he mumbles, his voice heavy with sleep.
You feel his hips press forward as he instinctively moves his body closer to yours, and soon, the unmistakable shape of his hard dick is pressed against your ass. He didn't mean it suggestively, his caveman brain just though "get closer to girlfriend," but, the combination of feeling how warm he was against you, his scratchy morning voice, and the feeling of his erection pressing into you were already riling you up.
so you start plotting.
You know Annie is at a sleepover, and you don't have to pick her up until 12. Quickly, you flick your eyes open and read the numbers on Matty’s digital clock. 09:00 blinks back at you.
more than enough time for a morning quickie.
Your lips work against each other, desperately pressing and pulling. Matty nips at your bottom lip, smirking at your needy whimpers. Your hips have a mind of their own, grinding against Matty’s, pulling more moans from the two of you. you can feeling him growing harder with each circle of your hips, and you can't deny the feeling of power it gives you.
You flip over in bed, and before Matty can process your movements, your mouth is pressed against his. Your tongue tracing the seam of his lips.
He can't help but giggle at your immediate horniness, which gives you the perfect opportunity to press your tongue into his mouth, licking in his mouth in a way that steals any laughter Matty had in his chest and replaces it with needy groans.
as if he can sense your ego growing, Matty soon moves his knee between your thighs, pulling away and watching your jaw drop as his thigh touches your overheated core. All he can see is the whites of your eyes as your eyes roll into the back of your head, your hips moving needily against his bare leg.
every movement is intoxicating, bulding up the inate need you have for him every second. You can feel the slick from your inner thighs spreading over his hot skin, just warm enough to have you sighing happily and throwing your head back, “fuck.”
A pink flush covers your chest, spreading up and colouring your cheeks, a ruby-woo red that has Matty itching to kiss every inch of your skin. The throb between your thighs was intoxicating, a heady mix of desire and love filled the room and it made your head fuzzy.
“What's got you so worked up, hmm? Dreaming of me?” Matty teases, moving his head down to your neck. Soon enough, his lips are travelling over your chest and neck, sucking meanly and then kissing each spot better.
You don't answer for a few seconds, too distracted by the feeling of matty against you, but a short nip on the junction of your neck and shoulder brings you back to earth a little.
You shake your head as much as you can as Matty assaults your neck with hickies, “no, it's just-” you sigh breathily, trying to force the words stuck in your chest.
"You're so warm, and it turns me on so much,” you just manage to get out. Almost cutting yourself off with a moan as matty sucks a dark purple mark just behind your ear.
Matty pulls himself out from your neck, the same pretty pink of your cheeks covered his, and his curls were sticking on end from your hands desperately carding through them. You can see the glow of his skin in the gentle light of the sun, and all you want to do is trace every freckle on his skin with the tip of your tongue. but before you can he's dipping below the duvet and finding his place between your thighs (his favourite place, if hes honest).
You pull the blanket back to see Matty’s face, he leans his head on your thigh, looking up at you with blissed-out eyes. His once brown irises are almost black, blown out with lust.
“Yeah? You get turned on by me baby? Fuck, you're so hot. Lemme eat you out, make you feel good.” he asks, smirking at your reaction.
His calloused fingertips dip below the poor excuse for shorts you're wearing, pulling them down as fast as he can manage. The fabric once touching your skin is quickly replaced by his lips, moving over every inch of you, except the place you need him most.
Your head suddenly doesn't feel attached to your neck, but still, you manage a slack nod. A gasp falls from your chest as soon as you feel his overheated lips pressing kisses up your thighs.
Matty's fingers slide up your hips. When he reaches your waist, his thumbs press meanly into your skin, swirling and teasing you with every touch.
“Mattyyyy,” you whine, drawing out his name in an attempt to convince him to put his mouth on you. 
“Patience baby, why don't you hold my hand if you're so desperate for me? Good things come to girls who wait, you know,” Matty teases, moving one hand from your waist up to grip your own, your fingers sliding together and interlocking easily.
You squeeze his hands 3 times, a signal you two had created to say “I love you” without actually saying it. Matty continues his movements on your skin, but you still feel the same 3 squeezes back. Your eyes flick down to his, and you can see the love swimming in his eyes.
Thankfully, Matty soon gives you mercy, licking a flat stripe up your core and moaning at the musky taste of you overtaking his senses. He starts to eat you out like a man starved. Not giving you a moments ready before fucking you with his tongue, and smirking at the broken gasp that is ripped from your chest. You can’t help but squirm at the feeling, goosebumps erupting over your body.
He continues leaves you no time to breathe, using the hand thats unoccupied to slide down to your clit, rubbing tight circles on the bundle of nerves. Lewd noises fall from your lips, every movement from Matty pulls more whimpers and whines out of you, each one more desperate than the last.
You feel an electric current running through you, and as Matty drags his eyes up to meet yours and you feel like you've been shocked. You can see a mixture of your slick and his saliva on his chin, the filthy smirk covering his lips as his tongue works against you.
much to your dismay, his fingers slide down from your clit just as you were about to cum. A disgruntled whine falls from your lips, but it's soon replaced by a shuddering gasp as Matty slides the very same fingers inside you, stretching you out with two of his digits.
You feel him move his head up, but shifting your head from being thrown back feels like a herculean task right now. However, before you can even try to move, you're gasping and jolting your head up, looking down at Matty as he sucks your clit. He smiles as he starts teasing it with the tip of his tongue, sucking bundle of nerves harshly.
The hand holding Matty’s tightens and has a vice-like grip. Your eyes shoot open, and your jaw slack as every centimetre of his fingers enter you, finding places you couldn't dream of.
He curls his fingers cruelly, pumping them mercilessly, watching in awe as you writhe and moan above him. The heat spreading under your skin was becoming unbearable, the rubber band inside you being pulled tighter and tighter with every move Matty made.
Eventually Matty pulls away, resting his face on your shaking thigh as aftershocks rattle through you, the bottom half of his face is wet, and a sly smirk covers his cheeks.
You can't bare holding on any longer at the feeling, and you fall apart under him. Your hand gripping his becomes inexplicably tighter, and you're sure it's hurting like a bitch for Matty, but you honestly can't bring yourself to care right now.
Your hips move desperately against his face, grinding and circling as pleasure rattles through you. matty keeps working your clit and thrusting his fingers inside of you, studying the way you cry and crumble at his movements.
“Good morning,” he says cheekily, pecking your thigh as you giggle above him.
“Definitely a good morning, fucking hell,” you say breathlessly, closing your eyes in bliss as Matty sits between your thighs, looking up at you with enough love to make anyone completely lovesick.
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ughkat · 7 months
Text
crush | c.t.h
part two
part one here
{ probably gonna turn this into a series so be patient for a part 3! }
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cal x fem!reader
fluff?, kissing, drinking
not proofread
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"You should text Cal."...
I sat still in my bed, looking at my screen in confusion at Ashton's text. My brain unbelievably pieced together his distant attitude being tied to an attraction towards me. I furrowed my eyebrows and bit the inside of my cheek with doubt. There was no way he had a crush on me. I would know, right?
I hesitantly exited my messages with Ashton, scrolling to mine with Calum. Looking at my screen aimlessly, my thumbs shifted over the empty text box, thinking of something to say. I didn't want to scare him off, so I started simple.
"Hey"
I typed slowly, pressing send with shaky hands. I knew my nervousness wasn't stemmed from talking Calum himself, but more of finding out the full truth from him personally. Three dots appeared quickly, making my leg bounce with anxiety.
"Hi"
He responded flatly. I sighed at his dry tone. I knew his stubbornness would aide for an inconclusive conversation, so I decided to jump right in.
"What did Ashton mean before he ended the stream?" I sent the text hesitant, trying my best to sound nonchalant.
"Idk what you're talking about lol.".
His pathetic attempt at minor gaslighting me failed, I continued to push.
"Yes you do. Correct me if I'm wrong but he said you're mad at me because you love me?"
"Of course I love you. We all love you, you're my best friend."
I tossed my head back in frustration, rethinking my own suspicions. I realized I wasn't going to get what I wanted from him through a text, so I tried something else.
"Can we hangout tomorrow, just us? I feel like we need it."
I typed genuinely, knowing if he was telling the truth, he'd oblige. As the two of us hanging out alone used to be a common occurrence.
"You have work tomorrow."
He tried to think of a get away.
"I get off at 6. I'll see you after?"
I typed, giving him almost no choice but to see me. I watched patiently has I was left on read for a few minutes before Calum replied.
"I'm bringing drinks."
I smirked at his usual sass and need for a substance to calm his obvious.
" :) see you tomorrow."
I replied before switching my phone off and setting it beside me. I couldn't help but let butterflies slowly fill my stomach at the thought of myself making Calum flustered. For years, though I always found him attractive and had an underlying physical draw to him, I never imagined him more than anything than a friend. But I started to wonder if that was because I wanted it that way, or because I thought it had to be that way.
I began to doubt my own feelings towards Calum as I stared blankly at my wall in front of me. I bit my cheek as I reminisced on past memories and emotions throughout the years with Calum. I realized I never gave the thought of Calum as more than a friend a chance only for the wellness of our friendship as a group.
I stopped my thoughts in their tracks, snapping out of my trance and reminding myself that Calum hadn't confirmed nor denied his attraction to me yet, and I still could have simply misheard Ashton over my phone speaker. I settled deeply into my bed, letting my eyes flutter shut as I reassured myself of the pros and cons of tomorrows plans.
The sounds of footsteps and the occasional phone ringing filled the silence around me as I sat in boredom at my job. I had 15 minutes left of my shift, and all I could think about was the boy I would be meeting with when I got home. I tapped a pen mindlessly on the desk in front of me, my hours going by quickly while I let my mind wander about Calum.
On the dot, 6:00 rolled around and I began packing my belongings into my bag to head out to my car. I reached for my phone on my way out of the doors to reveal a message from Calum.
"Let me know when you're home.".
I caught myself smiling at his straight words, tucking my phone back into my pocket. I hurried quickly to my car, tossing my bag into the passenger seat before pulling out into the road.
I scolded myself mentally during my drive for beginning to fantasize about the possibilities with Calum and I. A smile escaped my lips at the idea of hearing Ashton's words correctly, and Calum really liking me.
Arriving home, I quickly raced to my bedroom, changing out of my work clothes and into black pajama shorts and oversized t-shirt. Leaving my makeup how it was, I pulled my hair out of its ponytail, running my hands through the tangles as I made my way to my bed, opening my phone.
"I'm home"
I sent a simple text to Calum before laying out on my back across my bed, letting out a tired breath. I rolled my ankles lazily, taking in the comfort of my bed before a single ding rang from my phone.
"Omw."
I bounced my leg anxiously awaiting Calum's arrival. Suddenly, it was like I was meeting him for the first time. I began to do things I wouldn't before think twice about. I checked my appearance multiple times in the mirror, made my bed, and tidied up my room. All things that I never cared about the boys, including Calum, minding before.
A few quiet knock fell at my front door, making me jolt from my frantic fidgeting. I calmly made my way to the front door, opening it to reveal Calum carrying a single plastic grocery bag.
"I have drinks and snacks." He lifted the bag slightly, speaking with a half smile. I stepped to the side, inviting him in. Already, I could sense his tense energy. I led him to the couch, I felt my heartbeat pick up its pace at the feeling of him so close behind me.
We took our seats beside each other, Calum leaving an awkwardly large space between us.
"Beer?" Calum offered blankly, reaching for the 6 pack of beer. I shook my head, more focused on the subject matter on my mind.
"No, thanks.".
"Wanna watch a movie or something?" He asked, forcing a fake civil smile.
The two of us sat sharing a glance for a moment before I took the wheel impatiently.
"I know you're lying." I spoke, looking down at my hands. Calum turned his head towards me quickly.
"What?"
"You're lying." I repeated, looking at his with a frustrated smile, "I know what heard on that stream, Cal." I leaned deeper into the couch, watching Calum's eyes dart across the room. He let out a sigh, appearing to be trying to gather his words.
"What do you want me to say?" He muttered quietly, making eye contact loosely. I looked down to my hands before back up to him through my eyelashes cautiously, watching his anxious expression.
"Is it true?" I spoke almost at a whisper, picking at my thumbs anxiously. He looked at me slowly, swallowing a lump in his throat before speaking deeply.
"What if it is?" He shrugged gently. I let out a sigh at his small confession, relieved at his words, yet finding myself in another boat of confusion.
"Why didn't you tell me before?" I spoke, moving closer to him, feeling my energy being pulled towards his. He looked away as I got closer, becoming visually nervous. Looking back at me, he replied.
"I wanted to at first" He began, "But I kept ignoring it after some years. I was scared of what you'd say." He mumbled.
"And Ashton knew all this time" I continued, tilting my head. He looked down.
"Yeah, he thought you wouldn't feel the same either.".
We sat quietly in each others silence for a moment, sharing glances and collecting our thoughts. I felt myself warm up inside at the confessions coming from Calum, guiding my next few bold moves.
"Cal." I spoke with a smile, moving in closer. His head perked up quickly at my movements.
"Hm?" He muttered quietly.
"You should've told me sooner." I began softly.
"Why..?" He furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes darting to mine back and forth.
My eyes were stuck in a trance deeply into his sparking brown ones, and my mind took control. Without thinking, I leaned in quickly, pressing my lips to his passionately. He released a small gasp before swiftly closing his eyes, melting into the kiss as well. I pulled back quickly with semi wide eyes, looking at Calum nervously. His mouth was half agape, searching for his words. I watched his shocked expression and loss for words, instantly doubting my actions.
"I-." I started, looking down, "I'm sorry Cal, I do-" I was abruptly cut off by Calum pulling me in for another kiss, holding the side of my face with a gentle hand. I chill ran through me as our lips intertwined perfectly, making me melt under his touch. His mouth on mine was the deciding factor that I wanted every bit of Calum, in every way, all of the time.
He pulled away slowly, looking at me adoringly in the eyes. A smile escaped his lips, followed by us giggling in unison at our impulsive actions.
"Was that so hard?" I teased lightly, filled with joy at the breakthrough Calum had made.
"If I knew this was gonna' happen, I definitely would have told you sooner." He joked with a scoff. I giggled, leaning back into the couch with a sigh.
"Was this your plan the whole time?" He asked smugly, narrowing his eyes. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head.
"No, actually." I laughed, "I came into this blind. Didn't have a plan." I reached for a beer from the coffee table in front of us, cracking it open swiftly and taking a sip. Calum rolled his head back lazily on the couch before speaking.
"In all realness though, I really do like you," He began, "Like, a lot. And I have for a really long time." I began to confess slowly as he joined me with a drink.
"How long?" I asked genuinely, I turned to look at him as he continued.
"Ever since Ash started bringing you around, really. Truthfully, you're one of the most beautiful girls i've ever met, Y/n." He chuckled with embarrassment, looking down to his drink. I blushed uncontrollably at his words, mimicking his actions and looking down.
"Whatever." I giggled at his hyperbole of my description. How could someone as fit as Calum find me to be the most beautiful girl he's ever met?
"It's true." He urged, "Ever since I laid eyes on you, I wanted you to be mine." He spoke boldly. I turned to him with a serious expression, shocked by his words.
"Really?" I mumbled quietly. He nodded his head with a shy smile
An uncontrollable grin took over me, immediately noticing the change in energy. Calum seemed to be slowly resuming his usual self, only leaving me with one question. What now?
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