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saltymongoose · 1 year

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AHH OK CAN YOU PLEASE MAKE YAN JORGE AND CHURCH HCS?

Yes, I can and I shall. Enjoy! ;)

General Yan!Church and Yan!Jorge Headcanons

(TW: Yandere, Obsessive Behavior, Violence, mentions of blood.)

> Church and Jorge are not the types to be hidden in their affections at all. Once they start feeling strong affection for you, it’s obvious to everyone in the vicinity, which is of course how they found out about each other’s “thing” for you. Jorge couldn’t ignore how Church insisted that you were the only one besides himself who could handle his gear or tune his weapons, and similarly, Jorge’s own increasingly affectionate treatment of you was hardly subtle. Even when they started to become a bit more intense in their actions, the heightened focus on showing you their love was mirrored between the two.

> To everyone’s surprise, this just became another thing for them to sort of bond with each other over, instead of causing the infighting they assumed. In the G03LM’s minds, it made total sense; of course the other would love you, not loving you was just plain stupid. Plus, they operate on the same wavelength most of the time anyway, so their bro liking the same person is fine with them. There’s no one else Church or Jorge would rather share you with, and as it happens, this is what really eggs them on to make you know just how much they both care for you.

> Neither are really the type to do typical romantic gestures like give you flowers they picked or write soliloquies to describe your beauty, but they do flirt with you a lot. You’d swear that “good lookin’” was practically another name for you now with how often Jorge purrs it to you in a greeting, and then there was the rare “sweetcheeks” from Church. They aren’t exactly the most flowery terms of endearment, but then again, neither of them seemed the type to do that to begin with, so you were still surprised.

> In fact, they call you those so often that they almost caught on with other grunts as well. But attempts to make those nicknames a regular thing were quickly stopped by none other than Church and Jorge themselves; it was their thing with you, and only theirs.

> (Jorge paused from cleaning his gun when he heard one of the other technicians call out to you with his name for you. He leaned down to them and grinned behind his mask when they shrank back a bit. “Hah, that’s real funny pal. But if you call them that again I’ll crush you.” Point taken.)

> Jorge also lavishes you with praise and compliments constantly, for the most simple of actions and when you least expect it. He’s particularly fond of this way of showing affection to you, and he considers it his mission to make you know how much he loves everything about you. Everything from the way your brows furrow when you’re confused to innocuous things like the precise way you prefer your coffee and the way you look so focused when working. Although sometimes his comments can be weirdly specific. For someone who you assumed didn’t know that much about you, the fact he can list off certain more intimate things he knows about you so offhandedly is a bit unnerving.

> (It’s just because he spends a lot of time looking at you, but you didn’t know the true depth of it. It was easy to keep it secret, with how hidden his gaze is behind his mask.)

> For the record, Church also compliments you, but they’re typically shorter and more blunt. He’ll just state that you’re really pretty as though it’s a universally known fact, which it is in his mind. He’ll also fight anyone who says otherwise, but he’s always itching for a chance to pummel someone on your behalf, so it’s something you’re kind of used to now. It’s weirdly flattering regardless, but you try not to encourage it too much.

> Jorge and Church also give you presents frequently as well; usually weapons and other trinkets as “battle trophies” from grunts they faced in combat, oftentimes still bloody. You’re grossed out a bit by just how much gore they track into the building whenever they find something new to gift you, but seeing them perk up proudly whenever you thank them for it makes up for it. They seem so happy whenever you show an ounce of gratitude for their presents, punching the air and fist-bumping each other when you simply smile at them while holding whatever they gave you. You might even say it’s cute, although using such an adjective for the violent mercs seems a tad inappropriate.

> (Half of the time you’re not even sure what to do with the things they bring you, but now you have an entire wall full of weapons and armor pieces from them. It’d be useful if you ever need to get into a fight, but you’re just a technician.)

> (Of course, you don’t know how many of those special things are from people who were once threats and were foolish enough to pose a threat to your relationship with them. They really should’ve known better, it’s not like Church or Jorge had tried to hide what you were to them. Hopefully the rest of your coworkers would take a hint from the red they tracked in, and the missing presence of some of the people you shared a shift with.)

> They drop any and every conversation they have just to make you a part of it once you enter the room, including important mission briefings from Sheriff. (Oh well. He just has to get that you’re more important.) You’ll also find yourself physically close to them more often than not; it’s common for you to have to try to ignore how they crowd in on your space whenever they catch sight of you. It’s not like you work with them often - you’re not exactly a mercenary or field worker - so when they decide to spend virtually all of their downtime around you, it’s very noticeable.

> They’re also quite touchy with you; you’re going to be picked up by one of them and bear-hugged at least once every day, and luckily they are very gentle with you, so you never have to worry about being harmed by their armor or squeezed too tight. They’d rather die than hurt you, so their grip on you is always soft, and when they nudge against you with their masked face (their version of a kind of kiss, unbeknownst to you), it isn’t hard enough to cause any damage. If they had it their way, you’d always be in their arms, and they even try to take turns with it just to be fair.

> (As an additional bonus, if you’re snuggled up in Church or Jorge’s embrace, no one bothers them and tries to get you away. It's the perfect way to keep you all to themselves, and their loud purring shows just how pleased they are about this.)

> Church is definitely the quieter of the two, but also the one more likely to rough someone up if they affront you in some way. The other members of MERC know better than to get too close to you now, since attempts to be all buddy-buddy with you (or god forbid, flirt with you) were shut down by the mohawked G03LM’s fists. Literally.

> (With how often Church was around you, he got pretty good at reading you. So when he heard you laugh uncomfortably and snapped his attention to you to find one of the other grunts leaning way too close to you for even your taste, he was quick to get rid of the problem. It’s the least he could do, for someone he adores so much.)

> You’ve had a talk with Church about, well, massacring your coworkers whenever you happened to take an off day (at least he’s polite enough not to do it in front of you), so he’s not likely to hurt them too badly now. But it just so happens that Church also knows that you can cause a lot of damage that doesn’t lead to death all the time, which some might even consider worse.

> (Sheriff is now more concerned than ever about healthcare costs for MERC. Perhaps he can cut another deal with the Nexus Core?)

> Jorge is more the type to just threaten the other mercenaries, but he isn’t above getting physical along with Church to break a few (many) bones if he thinks the situation calls for it. Which happens more often than not, if you’re not in their vicinity.

> (They’d honestly be offended if you thought they’d forget the way that prick Sheriff just hired was giving you googly eyes. The little twerp just has to learn his place, and as your partners, there’s no one better to teach them.)

> Despite how they will deliberately target the others in your faction when they know you won’t be around, they still want to show off around you. There’s always an open invitation for you to observe their training, and Jorge is always quick to remind you of this. When you do watch them fight, they naturally put a lot more effort into fighting. They already love the thrill of it, but feeling your eyes on them just invigorates them like nothing else.

> If it weren’t for the fact that the two are so dangerous, the fact that you have them completely wrapped around your finger without knowing it would be funny to everyone else. Anything you even mention once will be noted by them, and while they might not be the most efficient at fetching it/completing some task you need finished, they’ll find some way to fulfill your wishes. Even if it means threatening asking someone else to do it for them, or going to the very ends of Nexus City and fighting through hoards of random bandits and zeds to bring back a single tool you’d simply like to have someday, they’ll do it happily. And of course, they’ll be chatting with each other the entire time about how cute you are, and how they can’t wait to see the look on your face when you realize what they’ve done for you.

> Both of them routinely refer to you as their partner, and they mean it in every sense of the word. Ever since they fell for you so hard, there’s no one else Church and Jorge would be willing to go to for tune-ups and other jobs that needed more technical expertise present. But they also mean it in the romantic sense as well. In their eyes, they’d already made it explicitly clear to everyone else that you were together. They just need to go a step further to get you to acknowledge it as well. Plus, you’d never outright rejected their advances before, so they just know you return their affections. Maybe you’re just shy about it compared to them.

> It doesn't matter to them how long it takes you to understand and eventually officially requite what they feel because Church and Jorge are willing to work at this for however long is needed. They're not going to quit when they know they're so close to having you completely and being able to show you all of their love to its truest extent. Besides, they're G03LMs; Church and Jorge can be brought back from whatever form of the afterlife Nevada has for as long as needed. If they can fight off death itself, then no one stands a chance at taking you from them, so your being with them is completely inevitable. That's all there is to it.

#tw: yandere #tw: violence #they are actually surprisingly tame for yanderes tbh #my writing #yandere madness combat #yandere madcom #yandere church #yandere jorge #church x reader #jorge x reader #madness combat x reader

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marinasmarvel · 15 days

Text

Rebuilding

Summary: A few weeks after the fall of the red room, Natasha is living off the grid in Norway while she waits for Steve to get back to her with a plan for the prison break. While there, she gets an unexpected visitor, but not an unwelcome one.

A/N: I’ve been missing these sisters so much, and I find it hard to believe that the last time they saw each other was when they whistled in the red room rubble. This is a soft and fluffy fic where they try and rebuild the bond they once had. Enjoy!

Warnings: Fluff, some tickling, mentions of the red room’s abuse.

Natasha doesn’t get visitors very often.

I mean, who would while living off the grid in the middle of the forest in Norway?

So when she hears the bang of her door opening, she tenses, and immediately grabs her gun.

She stalks out to the kitchen, and breathes a sigh of relief.

It’s just Yelena. She’s standing there in her widow suit, eating a bag of chips. She’s sporting a new vest, and her hair is done in a beautiful braid.

“Privet, sestra.” The blonde greets, a knowing smirk on her face.

“Yelena, seriously? I thought Ross and his goons had found me.” Natasha scolds, but there’s fondness in her tone. “Bah, come on poser. We both know it wouldn’t be that easy for him to find you.” Yelena retorts. Natasha shrugs.

“So, what brings you here?” Natasha questions. “Well, I was in the area, freeing some widows. And…I wanted to see you.” Yelena admits quietly.

Natasha softens at that. She’s seriously questioning how she went 21 years without seeing Yelena, because now all she wants is to hold her tight and never let go.

“Hey, why don’t you stay with me for a few days, until Antonia gets back to you with the next batch of widows.”

Yelena perks up at Natasha’s offer. “Really? Are you sure?” Natasha nods. “Yeah. I know we didn’t get off to the best start, and I’m sorry for that, Yelena. But believe me, you’re my baby sister. Not in blood, but in every way that matters. I’m sorry I ever thought otherwise.”

Yelena feels tears blur her vision, before she crashes into Natasha, hugging her with such force that the redhead can feel her ribs being squeezed. But she doesn’t care.

Natasha presses a kiss to Yelena’s forehead, similarly to how she did when they were kids. “I love you so much, little one.” She murmurs.

“I love you too.”

Hours later, the sisters are curled up on the couch, watching James Bond. While Natasha is fine with the movie, Yelena finds it much more distasteful.

“This is wildly inaccurate. No real spy propaganda, such bullshit.” She grumbles. Natasha rolls her eyes affectionately. “It’s not supposed to be realistic, ‘Lena.”

“Poser.”

Natasha shoots her a sharp, yet playful glare. “Is that your go to insult now?” The blonde nods her head, a sassy smirk on her lips.

Experimentally, Natasha gently pokes Yelena’s ribs, which makes her squeak and jolt. She glances up at Natasha, her eyes wide, but she doesn’t have time to react before Natasha pulls her against her chest, her legs wrapping around Yelena in such a way that she can’t move. It’s tight enough to restrict Yelena’s movements, but not enough to panic her.

Not like the red room.

Natasha gently digs her fingers into Yelena’s ribs, which makes her giggle and thrash. “Heyehehey!” She protests. “Hmm, just like when we were kids, right?” Natasha teases gently, enjoying this far too much.

Yelena continues to laugh and squeal, barely thrashing in Natasha’s arms. She hates the fact that she doesn’t entirely mind Natasha tickling her.

“And you still enjoy it, too.” Natasha murmurs. Yelena shakes her head vehemently, still continuing to deny it, bubbly giggles falling out of her mouth.

Natasha relents after a few more minutes, but she doesn’t let go of Yelena. “Was that ok?” She questions. She’s still trying to figure out this weird and somewhat complicated relationship she has with Yelena.

Yelena nods. “Yeah I’m just…not used to receiving positive touch.” She admits.

Natasha feels her heart crack. “I’m sorry I left you there for so long.” She apologizes. “It’s ok, ‘Tasha.” Yelena replies.

She turns so she’s facing Natasha, burying her head into Natasha’s neck. God, she’s missed her so much.

“I’ll never leave you again, little one. I promise.” Natasha whispers. Yelena nods against her, cuddling closer.

If only Natasha could keep that promise.

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed. Feel free to send me requests for these two, I’ve been missing them so much lately. Thank you for reading!

#marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfiction #black widow #natasha romanoff #yelena belova #widow sisters #natasha and yelena

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igotanidea · 1 year

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Tired (cheshire verse) : Jason Todd x fem!reader

Still, a part of Cheshire!verse. Other parts are: Cheshire cat, That damn gala and Five years later (previous to Tired)

This story took a bit of a turn because of @miraculous-panic. You wanted to know what happened between Dick and reader, so there you go. that was not planned so thanks :D

So, long story short, my dead almost-boyfriend turned out to be not-so-dead real-time boyfriend

Crazy, right?

Happy ending for everyone, rose petals, doves and all that shit used at the end of any cliché rom-com.

Well.

It was not so simple.

Ever since Jason came back from the grave (which apparently was five years ago, he just simply forgot to leave a memo on that) he’s been acting…. Different. More violent, more aggressive, more impulsive I daresay. He completely let go of the old “no killing rule” and just went full on, dealing with the criminals in his own way.

Sure, neither Bruce nor Dick nor any other member of the batfamily approved of that and that was the reason he was cast out. Not that he cared. About them. It was teeny-tiny different with me. And after some time it actually started to get problematic.

I mean, how can you be the so-called hero and date an anti-hero? How can you (yes, I mean myself) work with the bats (fuck, Batman himself) and be ok with your boyfriend getting all bloody with the literal blood of people. (even if they’re the bad ones)? How can you deal with the fact that the same arms that gets to hold you every night some nights and hands that write love letters on your skin are also used to point a gun to someone’s head.

You can’t. Not in the long run.

So, given that, I tried to fight for him. I knew he was dealing with the anger issues, that the Lazarus Pit left him changed, but I refused to let it consume him. I was really doing everything. Never pushing him, just being there, showing him different ways, throwing hints to help him get back to the old ways. He never listened. Not that I blamed him after everything he’s been through.

Most of the times, I dealt with it by myself, but from time to time I just wasn’t able to process all those contradictions in me. I was becoming a fucking hypocrite, losing myself in all this mess of vigilantism and relationship. Those were the times when I stayed at the manor with Dick, Tim and Damian, letting them help me with thoughts. Usually by distracting me. Dick would do his most crazy acrobatics in a show-off manner only to make me smile, Tim would talk about the random facts he found on the internet and Damian… well, Damian would just sit next to me, not saying a single thing, giving me space but just his presence was enough. Yeah, me and Damian had a very deep bond even though no one would guess it.

It was that one patrol with boys that got me spinning. We were doing our rounds in one part of Gotham, Bruce leading the operation, while Red Hood was riding solo on the other. It was like a race against time since we had to save some people taken hostage and exposed to some sort of enhanced neurotoxin (suck on that, Crane with your fear gas) which would soon turn them into a freaking zombie. Luckily, we were fast enough getting to the secret lab in time to turn the tables around and once again safe the day. Yay! Hurray! Bats to the rescue. But, it wasn’t really like that.

“Y/N?” Dick noticed me standing in the corner of the room, eyes fixed on one point in space, absentmindedly running my fingers against the counter full of some crazy medical accessories “Hey, are you all right?” his voice became concerned when he realized what might be going through my head.

“No.” I shook my head “No. I don’t think I am, Dick…..”

“You’re thinking ‘bout him, right? About Jason?”

“Yes… I….” I took a deep breath “I don’t know what I’m doing Dick. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I save people, but at the same time let them die, not stopping him. I stick to the moral code that Jay break every night. ….. I….. I……” I felt like I was suffocating

“Hey, hey. Breathe.” Dick reached an arm towards me and squeezed my hand gently “you’re spinning”

“How…. How can I not? the second I think about everything he’s been through all the rules and codes are becoming blurry. Fuck, I love him Dick…..”

“I know. And right now, I need you to calm down, ok?”

“I’m trying to, but……”

“Grayson. Y/L/N.” oh, thank God for Damian. His cold and collected self was like a heaven send. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at my shaking figure but did not say a word. He knew. “You’re staying at the manor tonight, Y/N.” this was not a question. Damian Al’ghul Wayne was way above asking.

“You know you are a tyrant, right Damian?”

“Yes.”

“Come on, Y/N.” where the hell did Tim came from “you know you shouldn’t be alone in a state like this. Remember what happened last time?”

“I’m sorry what exactly happened last time?” Dick was suddenly far more stern than before

“NOTHING! NOTHING! Don’t you dare saying a word, Tim!”

“We’re gonna find it one way or another” Damian smirked and Dick scoffed.

“SHUT UP! Just shut up all of you! I’ll stay!” I cried out “you know I’ll stay…..” the second part was said in a softer manner “really, thank you for putting up with me.”

“Hey, anytime, sunshine” Dick smiled putting arm around me and leading me out to the exit.

***

Two hours later, I still could not sleep. Too many thoughts has been running thorough my minds. So, instead of laying I was in the kitchen, crouched on the barstool, elbows leaning against the counter and with the cup of chamomile tea in hands. I hated chamomile, but Alfred always said it helped you relax, so why not try?

“Why are you up?”

“Shit! Dick! I almost burned myself! We’re in the house you don’t need to sneak up on me!”

“Sorry” he flashed a smile “force of habit. Why aren’t you in bed? You look tired.”

“I am.” I sighed deeply “ my crazy brain however does not seem to be.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about? I’m trapped into one of the most cliché scheme. A hero falling for a villain.”

“Hm. I don’t know. Do you think you are a hero?” he laughed

“Dick….”

“Sorry, Y/N. Though I would make you smile.”

“Not this time, Boy wonder. Not really in the mood.”

“Sorry. But if you don’t want to talk, how about a hug from your favorite bat?”

“Do you think you are my favorite bat?” I raised an eyebrow

“I don’t think. I know. Now come here. “ he extended his arms and I was more than eager to dive in his embrace “does it make you feel better.”

“I don’t know. It definitely reminds me of our childhood times. Those when I was still learning the vigilante shit and you were always there to protect me.” I muttered

“And I always will.” He assured “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“Do you have someone specific in mind?” I couldn’t look him in the eyes, fearing the answer

“No. No one specific. Just anyone who would dare so.”

“Hate to break it to you, Dick, but I’m old enough to stand up for myself….”

“But….?”

“But it feels nice to have you.”

“You’re like my little sister, Y/N.” he ruffled my hair and I scoffed but smiled lightly

“Are you two comfortable?” a grumpy voice of another person who was apparently sleepless disturbed the moment of silence between me and Dick.

“How the hell did you get in?!” in a matter of second Damian was standing in the kitchen, followed closely by Tim, both of them with their stern face expression.

“Hello, Jason” Dick smiled

“I said….” Damian repeated only to be ignored once again.

“What the fuck are you doing with my girlfriend, Grayson?!”

“Oh, that is just great” I hissed and rolled my eyes. The last thing I needed was possessive Jason, still in his Red Hood suit facing his brothers

“I think you should leave, Jason” Tim tried to take precautions to avoid bloodbath between his older brothers

“And why would I do that, huh?”

“Um. Cause you are not welcomed here?”

“Damian!” I hissed. That was harsh, even for him.

“I think we should all just calm down and …..”

“Cut it, replacement! Why is she here? Are you keeping her captive or something?”

“Now you’re just being paranoid, Jason.”

“Paranoid, sure. I finished ….. “ he shook his head not really wanting to finish this sentence “and came straight to her. Do you even realize how I freaked out when you weren’t there?” his pained gaze landed on me “and then it clicked. You must be at the manor. So I came, and I saw you with Dick and …..”

“Ugh….” Damian hissed

“you know I was trying to make her feel better after she broke on the patrol! Because of you, you idiot” Dick hissed and took a few steps towards Jason so now they were angrily looking at each other

“Once again….ugh. What were you two doing?”

“ Talking!” I yelled and finally got their attention making the four boys quiet for a second. “we were talking. And then hugged. That’s it! You are all insane! Yes, Tim, you too! And now, if you all excuse me, I’m going to bed. I;m done with all of you. Have a good night, gentlemen.”

“Y/N….” Jace called to me, guilt and regret In his voice and in his whole posture

“No, Jace. I’m really, really tired. We’ll …. Talk tomorrow. Or not, I guess.” I looked onto the floor “and I’m pretty sure your yelling and screaming woke up Alfred. And possibly Bruce. So good luck with dealing with them.”

***

“Morning, Y/L/N”.

“Ah! Damian! What the fuck!” the youngest Wayne was standing right above me. It was definitely not how I expected to wake up.

“did you sleep well?”

“GET OUT!”

“You know, you should really answer your phone. It rang like twenty times in the last ten minutes. Bet it’s Todd.”

“Yeah, thanks for the head up, Damian.”

“You know, I’ll be more than glad to help you with that little problem with him….”

“I’m serious Damian, get out!”

“Fine, I’ll deal with him without asking you.”

I groaned. My head was killing me after everything that happened last night. All the emotions and doubts coming back. But, if Jason was blowing off my phone that means he sneaked past Bruce and no one got hurt in the process.

“Y/N?” he picked up after the first signal

“Were you expecting someone else?”

“No really, but with our line of work you can never be sure.” He chucked and that made me smile “Did you sleep well?”

“Someone made sure my night was quite eventful.”

“yeah, I’m… I’m sorry about that, love. I guess I got a bit carried away…” I could tell he was scratching his head in embarrassment

“A little?”

“Ok, fine, a lot! I’m sorry. Just seeing you with dick….”

“Jason.” I propped myself up and sat on the bed “come on. I’ve known him forever. He’s like a brother to me. You know that. Nothing could ever happen between us. I saw him in too many shaming moments. Did I ever tell you about that one time I caught him trying yoga and not being able to untwist himself out of a very complicated asana?”

“You did. But I can never get enough of that” he laughed wholeheartedly “I’ll take every story like that.”

“As much as I love to hear you, Jay, I’m sure you didn’t call me to talk about Dick.”

“Oh, hell no. Out of everyone in that manor, you are the only one I’m interested in.” I felt a little blush on my cheeks “Hey, listen, Red cleared some business and is going to have a quiet night. I was thinking…. We haven’t seen each other a lot lately so maybe you could meet me at our rooftop?”

“We saw each other last night when you encroached the manor”

“You know what I mean”

“And you do realize it’s highly disturbing when you talk about yourself in third person?”

“Precautions, honey. Are you absolutely sure it’s a safe line?”

“I was till now.”

“What changed?”

“I heard interference in the back, just give me a second to deal with it….”

I rushed out of my room (still in my pj) to Tim’s and after a little bangs and words spoken in angered voice was back on the line.

“Sorry, Jay. It was Tim, who apparently got bored. But he won’t be eavesdropping on us anymore.”

“What did you do to him?” Jason laughed

“Nothing permanent.” I shrugged even though he could not see it. “However, I think boys can do without me one night so I��d love to meet you. I missed you Jay.”

“I missed you too, baby.”

“And since when it’s our rooftop?”

***

Jason’s POV

I might have lied to her. I did not exactly secured the Red’s business. And now, when I was waiting for her with that helmet on I started to wonder if my goons people could do without me. But I promised her. I promised her some time alone and I wasn’t going to break it. She’s been neglected and abandoned by me way more than it should have happened. God, I did miss her. I missed making her smile, seeing her laugh. Just being with her. It was like my entire being craved her, both physically and emotionally.

“Hey there, stranger.’ oh, there she was, also in her gear, landing softly and quietly on the roof behind me

“Hello, kitty. I’m sorry but I’m waiting for someone.” I smiled taking a step toward her

“Hm, really? Red Hood waiting for someone?” she raised an eyebrow “usually it’s the other way round. Must be someone special then."

“She is. She truly freaking is.” I grabbed her waist and pull her closer to me, breathing in her scent. I had no idea how she was doing it but she always smelled like the ocean. Fresh and intoxicating.

“So, it’s a she.” She hummed and sneaked her hands around me making me melt into her touch “Lucky one.”

“What about you, Cheshie? Are you just wandering around out of loneliness?”

“Maybe. I mean, there is that special one, but we have been passing each other of late.” She pouted “he’s been occupied.”

“Sounds like a loser.”

“Nah. Just busy man with busy schedule. But he promised me he’ll be there tonight.”

“That’s no excuse. A girl like you deserve all the time in the world.” I removed my helmet staying only in the mask.

“Is that so?” she smiled almost unnoticeably.

“I’m sure.” I leaned in, our lips inched apart and I was just burning to kiss her, but she was still keeping her distance. I did not want to force anything, so just waited.

“How about we wait together than, Hood?” she moved slightly up and I took the hint.

“I can work with that.” Finally. Finally our lips met. Her soft one pressing against mine. Fuck! We’ve been kissing so many times before but every time if felt like the first one. She was intoxicating, a poison running in my veins. The kind of poison I never wanted out of my system. I needed more of her so I grabbed her chin lightly deepening the kiss and tightening the grip on her waist to pull her closer to my chest and further into my arms where she belonged. Soon enough my mouth moved to her neck biting on her soft spot.

“Ja….”

“Shhh, baby, use the code name.”

“Nah. I don’t think so” much to my surprise she pushed my away. My boy wouldn’t like me to call someone else’s name. I bet your s/o wouldn’t either.”

“So, you’re the faithful one, huh?”

“It’s only fair to the person I’m in love with.”

“In love, huh? Lucky bastard.”

“Don’t know about it. He’s the type who can get any girl he wants. Maybe he’s just with me because of praxis.” She looked down, dispirited.

“Baby” I lifted her chin up “believe me, I only got eyes for you.”

“What happened to the code names?” Y/N tilted her head in that cute way

“Fuck that. Don’t care anymore. Now, let’s get out of here. I promised you some good time, didn’t I?”

***

Holy shit, he lived up to his word giving me the best time ever. All of his attention and affection I missed for so freaking long. His soft touches and lips lingering on my skin, kissing it from time to time.

Ok, I don’t know what you thought about, but being a vigilante and dating one messed up anti-hero make you enjoy little things.

So, during our time alone, those little moments we get to steal, we were just cuddling together, enjoying a good book. Nothing fancy, and yet it brought us closer together than anything else in the world. Jason was leaning on the bedframe in one of his safe housed, my head on his chest, eyes closed, legs intertwined, his right hand holding the book, while left traced patterns on my skin. We simply enjoyed each other presence and warm, not being Red Hood and Cheshire, just Jason and Y/N, our mask discarded and tossed somewhere on the floor. This may have not been the safest, but neither of us seemed to care.

Honestly, I have no idea how this peaceful evening/night turned into a soap opera. One moment I was falling asleep , feeling loved and secure in his arms and the second someone was banging on the door rushing inside.

“Roy?” Jason sprung out making sure not to drop me onto the floor in the process. “What the fuck?”

“Sorry, Jace. There’s an emergency. We need you like right now.”

“But….” He hesitated looking at me.

“Go! I’m serious. Go! I’ll wait here. Just…. please, don’t kill anyone. Please.”

“I love you, Y/n. “ he pulled me in and kissed me softly, his lips lingering on mine, not ready to let go “I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise.”

***

He was back an hour later. With blood on his hands and it got me spinning the same way it did last night in the manor. Only this time I decided to confront him about it. I should have predicted this would get angry very fast.

"But I fucking love you!"

"YOUR LOVE HURTS!" Oh, damn. I said it.

"Wha... What?" the brokeness on his face seemed to transpire straight into my heart. Just for a second I saw the same little boy I knew before. Little Jason, who craved love and affection and for some crazy reason could never get enough of it. All that shortage was still there.

"Your love.... hurts." I managed to say, but the last part was almost inaudible.

"Hm." he muttered acting so much like Bruce, quickly covering for his moment of weakness

"What?" there were so many words hidden behind that "one "hm" and I caught herself mentally preparing for a hit from him. It was coming.

"You're giving up on me then?" he hissed "you know, for someone who tried to be so different than Bruce and took so much fucking pride out of it, you two are awfully similar."

"Are we really?"

"You don't see it now. But he gave up on me after my death as well. Never fucking coming after Joker to revenge me. It was like....."

"Like he never wanted you." I finished looking straight into his eyes and that sparked something in him.

"'Cause you never really wanted me either, did you?" he hissed taking a few steps towards me and pushing me into the wall with all the force he could get. Which was a lot. I didn't even wince at the hit but my eyes grew wide "You were just playing around, ready to jump into Dick's bed, huh? Cause everyone wants a fucking hero!" he shook me violently.

"This is not fair, Jay. It's so not fair......" I whined. Now he was hurting me.

"Fuck!" finally he realised that his own anti-hero instincts were working against him. Against me. Against us, if there were even still us. Due to that realization he released the grip on my shoulders making me fall to the ground because my legs were shaking.

"You say it like I wasn't fighting for you for the last half a year. I did. You can't deny that."

"Y/N, I'm...."

"I know. You're sorry. That's the thing with you, isn't it? You do some stupid shit. You apologize. And then it starts again. I'm tired, Jason. I'm really, really tired. You dare to put the words in my mouth saying that I don't love you. That I don't think you're worth fighting for. So tell me, why am I not enough for you to go back to your previous self? Not the unhinged....."

"Monster?"

"I never said that." I looked down.

"You didn't have to."

"STOP TRYING TO GUESS WHAT I THINK!" I yelled like never before and took him by surprise. "If I didn't love you, If I thought you were a monster I would give up so long ago. But I didn't. Because I love you more than anything and you fucking know that!"

"And you know I love you Y/N. You do, right?"

"But we're not good for each other, apparently. And I....."

"For what it's worth, I never wanted to put you through it. It's just all this anger inside me" he cupped my cheek resting his forehead on mine. "You can't do it, can you?"

"No. No, I don't think I can."

"It's ok. I get it" his hand moved to the back of my head, the other resting on my waist pulling me closer.

"Do you really?"

"No."

I sighed deeply opening her mouth but he cut me before anything was actually said.

"Stay with me. Just tonight. Please."

"Jaybird......"

"Please. One last time."

"And then it's over?"

"And...." his voice broke and he had to pause before continuing "and then it's over."

***

Jason’s POV

I knew she wasn’t sleeping and neither was I. However, none of us dared saying a word to each other, instead choosing to lay in the bed in complete silence. She was the little spoon and I was holding her (or maybe to her) with desperation I’ve never experienced before. Please, don’t leave me. Please don’t go. I don’t want to be alone again. but all those thoughts were selfish. She needed someone better. She deserved someone better. Someone who wouldn’t drag her through hell every night. Someone who would hold her gently, making her feel safe and taken care of. Someone who was not crazy and did not have Lazarus Pit in his veins. Someone nice. Aka some loser, who could never love her the way I did, but would keep her out of the trouble. Red hood, fuck – I was the rood hood! So, I was the one who would always bring trouble to her. Someone could kidnap her, hurt her, kill her, because of me. And what was even worse, she did not deserve to be dragged all over social media as the hero who gets involved with vigilante. The public would eat her alive for hypocrisy. And as much as I knew she wouldn’t say a word about how much that would be killing her inside, I needed to safe her from that.

But I still wanted her in my crazy, messed up life.

She was my lifeline and I loved her so fucking much.

I loved her brain and her body. Her hair and her slightly snub nose. Her hair and her eyes. Her soft skin under my fingers and the way it felt against mine. Her lips. Her sense of humor, her intelligence and the way she always made me feel loved. Even if I never deserved it. I loved the way she was bantering with demon and replacement showing her fluent sarcasm. I loved how she kept her cool and how collected she was during patrols. After all, I might have spied on her a few times. I loved how she was letting me hold her warm, soft body and snuggled into my chest. And now, I was about to lose it all. Loose her. Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!

***

I felt like crying, but parting was the right way to do. We tried to make it work and yet, failed. I couldn’t fall asleep again, instead focusing on his hands gently rubbing my skin and his unusually steady breath on my neck. Almost as if he was trying to convince me that everything was going to be fine. We were going to be fine without each other. Big fat lie.We both know this would leave a scar forever. Another one to add to the collection. We couldn’t be together but we also could not be apart.

Now that I said it, it seemed like we were replaying some crazy Shakespeare drama. Romeo and Juliet? Holy shit. If you cut that little romanticism part and the families who tried to keep young lovers apart everything fit. Ironically, even the dying part.

Jason’s breath hitched a bit and he held me closer as I closed my eyes. Please, don’t let me go. I begged silently in my mind. Please, fight for us. Fight for yourself. For…. Me. Sad truth however, he was the one who already gave up. Not me.

I don’t know how and when but we both feel asleep in each other arms. Maybe it was because it was still familiar. Thank god, Jason was far more exhausted than me so I woke up first. Otherwise we would get back into the same spinning circle of apologies, promises and hurt.

Being a vigilante I caught the moment instantly and used it to wriggle out of his arms. It was killing me. I was the only person around whom Jason was able to let his guard down and actually rest and now I was going to pull the rug from under him. From my boy.

But he already knew I would.

I picked up my small bag, quickly gathering all the stuff and kissed the top of his head .

“I love you Jason Todd. No matter what I always will.” I whispered before turning around and sneaking out the window. I didn’t want to use the creeping door to avoid waking him and starting this whole circle of convincing again.

***

Third person POV

When he woke up she was already gone, the only sign she was real in the form of messy pillow and her lingering scent on the sheets.

“FUCK!” he groaned in frustration throwing a fist into the wall. He lost her. Again. This time probably for good.

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petalsonmoon · 1 year

Text

i’ll love you in silence, from a distance, just like i love the moon.

(a certain scene of never let me go inspired me. once again english is not my first language so my sincere apologies. anyone can read! it doesn’t contain any pronouns.)

you get out of bed hesitantly.

your steps to the door are slow, your anxiety makes you be careful even if the man in the other room is concentrated watching TV.

peter was too kind and too unbelievably beautiful you sometimes felt he wasn't real. he had those eyes that told people staight away how big his heart is and how he would never judge anyone and yet you couldn't help but look at them and want to change all of you to be everything he ever wanted.

and you've known each other for so long, there's no reason for this nervousness. who are you trying to fool here y/n, you know damn right why you’re bitting your nails.

his sofa faces the bedroom door so you took a deep breath before opening it.

you open the door and leave the room, closing the door you keep looking at your hand on the doorknob. enough seconds have passed to understand that your intention isn’t going to the bathroom.

when you finally look at him, his eyes were on you with a small smile next to it to accelerate your already accelerated heart.

he lifts the blanket in the empty space next to him and you nod almost imperceptibly. it wasn't that close like cuddle close. but it was pretty close.

okay. this is okay.

and now looking at the tv you frown. he was watching sonic the hedgehog.

"it's a nice movie." you say.

he turns to you. "what?"

"what what?"

"it is a nice movie." he answers agressivily.

"that's what i just said"

"it was implied in your tone what you meant." you really try to hide a smile. there was a split second of silence. "the second movie is coming out. that's why i wanted to watch."

even though a smile was trying to escape he looked like a child who's been told he couldn't have ice cream for dinner.

and for a moment you rest your head on his shoulder in way to show him you are kidding, it was supposed to be for a second but he suprises you wrapping his arm around your shoulders and hugging you.

you end up watching the rest of the movie like this. the world and paranoias completely forgotten.

"i mean... i get it. it was because of james marsden, wasn't it?"

you say when the credits start to roll and turn to him. "i see your smirk. you were so planning to watch enchanted after this-"

a low scream escapes from your throat when he hugs you and the two of you fall lying on the couch.

it can be said that you are close but this is not a common situation. in 6 years that you are neighbors you have created an incredible bond. not of best friends but you were, in the literal sense of the word there for each other.

when you just mentioned that you would need to make a major reform in your apartment, the next day he rang your doorbell and appeared with a big bag of tea boxes saying that he knew you couldn't go on with your day without drinking it for breakfast.

“because you know, you’ll be living with me for a while.”

and stupid romcom shit like that is what makes you fall in love with somebody.

you don't have enough courage to turn your face to him but you felt his chin gently touching your forehead.

“will you watch sonic 2 in the theaters with me?”

“you didn’t watch top gun with me.”

he’s definitely pouting.

“i’ll watch barbie in the 12 dancing princess with you.”

you look up at him for a second with a large smile on your face. “will you really?”

“just say when.”

you’re certain the world stoped for you two tonight.

“pss”

he’s a child.

“hm?”

“are you okay?” and it’s implied on his tone what he meant.

“i am.”

silence.

“i really am.”

“ok.”

his hug tightens slightly and you feel his finger affectionately draw a circle on your back. suddenly you feel like crying.

“you’re going to stay on this hug for while.” he just let’s you know.

your forehead meet his neck.

“i don’t mind.” it comes out of you low like a breath.

in these 6 years you’ve been sure you were down bad for him for at least 4 of them. and never once you truly learned how to read him. sure you knew when he was lying about silly things or trying to hide the fact he was exhausted from his work. or even when a bad mood was coming.

but not once he even blinked differently at you. so being head over heals for the boy became a familiar feeling accommodated in a little room in your heart. it didn’t hurt it was just there.

that being said, it was your first night sleeping at peter’s apartment.

and he didn’t know you can’t sleep in total darkness.

“i can’t… i have a hard time sleeping without some light on.” just keep going “i have this moon shaped lamp in my room that helps me…”

he nods. maybe thinking about an answer.

“may i ask why?”

“i don’t know. something about the light makes me feel less alone? …it feels like it’s illuminating the dark paranoias out of my head.” you say the last part in a joking way but you’re not sure that’s how he interprets it.

silence involves both of you.

“did you know that a 20-second hug is good for the heart?”

“really?”

“yeah.” he’s very calm “i’m not gonna say you should’ve told me but i’m gonna say you could have.”

“i feel like a 14 years old when i talk about this.”

“hey, no.” you just know he’s frowning “not at all. someone’s discomfort or fear is never silly. don’t think like that.”

you nod.

“you know how absolutely terrified i am of small insects.” he says.

“me and the whole building.”

“so you better come when i shout or i’ll have to knock on mrs mulligan.”

“she’ll kill the bug then you. and right next to it on purpose.”

“with no hesitation. and we don’t want that.”

he adjusts his body so you can be face to face.

your mind is at ease but you’re afraid he can feel your heart race increasing.

“you’re not alone, y/n. not as long i live and breathe quite literally next to you.”

he gently rubs his nose on yours. oh.

you’re not sure what is happening but it’s very natural. you’re not nervous. it’s a great feeling. it kinda feels like he likes you the way you like him.

so you just go for it.

“did you know that a kiss is like a reduces blood pressure? it prevents cardiovascular problems.”

“really?”

“probably. i don’t know”

he smiles. he’s really really cute when he smiles.

“what if i told you that i can test this theory?” he whispers so close to you that for a second you think he's not real.

"oh"

he bites his lower lip like he's fighting a smile. and that's the last thing you see before he kisses you.

a slow kiss. your hands traces his chest to his neck and gently caresses his brown hair. peter's arm pulls you impossibly closer to him while the other hand draws such gentle shapes on your neck that at the same time it makes you shiver, you melt on him.

he tasted like snickers. his tongue was warm and calm while danced with yours. you’re going to deduce and say that it was a very passionate kiss with a hint of longing from both parts.

when he pulls back from you after you don’t even know how long he kisses your cheek.

“should i buy a saturn shaped lamp for my bedroom?” he whispers and you smile.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker #andrew garfield #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #tasm!peter imagine #spiderman imagine #spiderman #peter parker x y/n #spiderman x reader

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princess-of-the-corner · 15 days

Text

Amnesia!Dabi: Twice

Ok, so. This entered my head and will not leave, so. Tell me how likely this seems, I guess.

One of the things I genuinely love about canon MHA is Himiko and Twice’s relationship. How supportive they are of each other, and how they stick together. They are just … weirdly wholesome? Very big brother, little sister? In CC, they won’t have this relationship of course (and I mourn quietly), but seeing it potentially die in Amnesia!Dabi made me sad, so. Anyway.

The Touya Is Alive Thing is public. The Toga’s interview has gone live. U.A. is suing them in court. Magne took off. Things are going … poorly, for the League of Villains. Shig is doing REAL bad right now. Spinner and Kurogiri are doing their best to help him, but they know the only thing that will really help … well. It’s not exactly an OPTION right now (though it doesn’t stop Spinner from imagining shooting AfO in the head, or Kurogiri from wishing he would). And Twice. Twice is doing REAL BAD.

He’s conflicted. Uncertain. All the regular shit. But worse than that … So, Twice’s Quirk. That’s the big gun that the LoV has right now. Or it would be, if Jin could use it properly. And, like, none of the LoV are blaming him, they know this shit is hard for him. They’re cool helping him work his shit out.

AfO is not.

He might be in prison, but, well, we all know that isn’t actually that effective. He manages a contact. A quick one. It’s all it takes.

A week later, Himiko is walking back to the Todoroki house with Fuyumi. They were having a “girls day”, trying to distract from the legal shit show that Himiko is stuck in. They met up with some of Shoto’s classmates, and it wasn’t even as awkward as it could have been. Himiko is feeling … not great, but not bad. She’s optimistic. Maybe we’ll get through this-

There’s commotion. Noise. Natsuo sounds panicked, and his boyfriend doesn’t sound much better. The girls exchange glances, and hurry up to the house … and Himiko can’t breathe.

There’s so much blood.

She’s moving before she really thinks about it. Knife out, poking holes in a new shirt (which one, doesn’t matter), making a makeshift mask. She’s shaking, but her hands are steady as she puts it over Jin’s head. As always, it calms him. Let’s Yosuke and Natsuo get to work on the frankly staggering number of injuries he has (how did he get here? how did he even know where to go? how is he not dead??). Himiko can only sit there, holding his hand, while Fuyumi frantically calls Endeavour, emergency services, Dabi/Toya, SOMEONE. Then she realizes Jin is talking. Mumbling.

“-real, I’m the real one, real one, the real one, I’m real, I’m real-”

He’s scratching at his arms. Twitching. It’s takes Himiko a minute to realize what he’s trying - and failing - to do.

Twice can’t use his Quirk anymore.

It was stolen.

(In a hideout, Spinner stomps out of Jin’s room, angry and hurt. Left without even saying GOODBYE, even Magne told them to their FACES she was going.

Shig’s face crumples when he’s told. Compress tenses. Kurogiri is quiet.

He keeps silent, about The blank spot in his memory. About the fact he made a portal recently, but doesn’t remember how or where.

He can only hope he’s wrong.)

(A certain doctor wonders if their security really IS that bad, because this KEEPS HAPPENING-)

OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHHOHOHOHOOHHO

YES! YES!!!!!!!

Like on one hand I’m kinda sad that Chaos Children doesn’t have the ‘Himiko sees the LoV as family’ bit. On the other hand, bold of you to assume I won’t work her bonding with the LoV into the plot!

BUT ALSO OOF OUCH MY HEART

#submission #amnesia!dabi

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grendelsmilf · 2 years

Note

i would love any and all thoughts you’d like to share on your experience with nope

okay so.

personally, I found us to be absolutely terrifying. I cannot describe the acute fear I felt while and after watching us because I have never experienced such fear in my life, before or after. something about doppelgängers unlocked the deepest possible terror within me. the thought that some eyebrowless bitch is out there waiting w scissors is the scariest thing imaginable to me, and I can’t even fully explain why. in comparison, nope did not horrify me at all. yes there were tense and upsetting scenes, but they didn’t feel personal. it was all spectacle.

getting that out of the way, I am still in the process of truly Unpacking this gigantic fucking onion, peeling back layer after layer after layer. this post has been in my drafts for nearly a week now, because there’s just so much to say about this movie and I keep adding bullet points. also uh. spoiler warning, obviously.

to get the obvious out of the way: the Monster is a camera. chekhov’s gun (the well) is also a camera. the monster’s all-consuming mouth is also its all-seeing eye. the camera is a hole you put your money (the same coins that killed otis sr) and your suffering into. and the media has no regard for the blood and sweat and tears that go into capturing that perfect shot. but, through OJ and emerald, we also see that the Gaze is not inherently evil. being Seen is just as important as refusing to be consumed by the viewers.

in the climax of the movie, OJ and emerald are both asserting their haywood legacy: OJ, of course, as the black man on the horse, and emerald as the one capturing this revolutionary footage. even the way she takes multiple shots that can be put together to create a looping clip is reminiscent of the method used to create the first motion picture. while initially emerald is set up to be the performer and OJ the behind the scenes guy, it’s important that OJ is the one on the horse, because he Knows Horses, and emerald, who is far closer to being part of Hollywood as a culture, is the one using her camera for the right reason.

jean jacket consumed the horses jupe bought for it, exploiting OJ’s life’s work to try to appease the camera/viewers/consumptive gaze/whiteness/etc. each horse gets a name, the way alistair haywood did not. jupe wants to erase the legacy of these Black horse trainers, just as he wants to erase his own trauma for the consumption of the white gaze, but the haywoods refuse to deny their roots, refuse to sacrifice any more horses, refuse to let themselves be exploited without a say in the matter. jupe gets consumed by the camera shutter monster, but OJ stares it right in the eye after half a year of keeping his head down and going about his business, and it works because he is asserting himself against this wild beast, establishing his agency instead of trying to form a bond with a creature that cannot be tamed.

his cowboy hat is as white as he wants to be. he's a phony: not a Real Cowboy (most of whom actually poc irl regardless of what the western genre would tell you), not a Real White Man, not really Chosen. the bottom of his hat resembles jean jacket too, that white underbelly and the shadow of a hole. he sees gordy in "the viewers" and he thinks they are the same, that they have a connection. he thought he had a connection with gordy, too: the exploited chimp and the exploited asian kid (being the only minority as well as a child actor?? forget it) seeing each other, reaching out. but they're on a stage, there's a cloth obscuring their gaze. they don't really see each other, because jupe refuses to see anything. that’s how he’s survived this long in the industry, after all.

also, the fact that jupe’s “aliens” have chimp bodies and camera heads is just such a fucking DETAIL. fuck, bro !!!!!!

ok so the balloons right. they're what scare the chimp (btw, gordy: scaredy cat + gory?) when they pop under the studio lights – contained in a box (or a cage), rising to new heights and then bursting under pressure, just like him. antlets says that you don't wanna climb that mountain. that it's a dream you never wake up from. it's why he sacrifices himself, on a literal mountain, for the one perfect shot, in the first place. he wants to go out on his terms, not anyone else's. the jupe balloon rises into the atmosphere, meeting jean jacket – the camera. one eye open, one eye closed, straddling the line between exploiter and exploited, predator and prey. (otis sr also had one eye open one eye closed when he died.) jean jacket sees the balloon as a threat, so he consumes it. but the pressure gets to be too much. and it bursts.

the upright shoe. is it a bad miracle? yet another coincidence that only bodes ill? jupe believes he was chosen. or is the shoe jupes memory playing tricks on him, having stared at that shoe in the display box for so long that it’s now all he can see in his mind? trauma blurs the past and present, after all.

I think there’s also an argument to be made that jean jacket is a Colonizer. quite literally an invasive species, taking up undue space in this habitat. jupe is so desperate to appease it, whereas whereas em and oj reclaim their land and their family legacy by defeating it. the difference between gordy and jean jacket is that gordy was exploited, whereas jean jacket is operating on its own terms, sucking in anything that directly acknowledges its presence. where did jean jacket come from? we don’t know, and we never will. what we do know is that it shouldn’t fucking be here!!!

I’ve seen ppl divided over this one thing so I’ll insert my 2 cents now: at first i interpreted antlers’s shot as an act of irrational selfishness, putting all of them in danger due to his own white man ego, but the more i think about it, the more generous i am inclined to be towards his decision. risky, yes, but greedy? i think it was actually a grand sacrifice, proving that he’d risk anything for his art and its legacy. he knew that jean jacket would consume him, but the camera he used would be spit back up, allowing for the chance for the photo to remain intact. ideally, his perfect, impossible shot would outlast his physical body, and he would not be a real artist if he did not give everything he had to make that happen. he had to at least try.

humans cannot conceive of any creature being higher in the food chain. we exploit animals, and we exploit each other. anyone considered “less than fully human” in any way is fair game. that’s what makes OJ’s bond with his horses in particular so beautiful, so important. it’s the direct counter to the way gordy was treated, to the way animals and people of color alike are shown to be reduced and disrespected for the sake of spectacle. and it’s why OJ, against all odds, survives.

there’s so much more I could say. I haven’t even mentioned angel! but on my first watch, these are my initial impressions. pls feel free to ask me more questions about this movie though, bc there is SO much to unpack and I cannot stop digging thru the suitcase!!!

now for some absolutely meaningless thoughts:

when keith david appeared i was like "oh shit!!! i didnt know he was in this!!!" and then he immediately died and i was like "ok well that makes sense." still, loved the cameo :)

i appreciate the elusive gay sister (cow)boy brother pairing for a change. the only other example i can think of is ayesha and hassan from we are lady parts. we need more!!

jupe is such an insane nickname to me bc it literally means “skirt” in french. yeah I just needed to say that

keke palmer was so hot in this I loved all her dykey fits her energy her akira slide ugh. mwah mwah bellissimo

fucking CW

in “conclusion” —

what are the implications of the gaze?

how do we commodify trauma?

what is the price of spectacle?

#nope #nope spoilers #ask #anon #media analysis #100

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stealingyourbones · 2 years

Note

Hey an idea for you: you know how everyone says Clockwork is Danny's Ghost dad even if he never actually adopted him? What I being a ghosts parent is more than just that. Once you have claimed someone as your kid, both of you can feel it in your core. It's instinct to help them and teach them and it is their instinct to seek comfort and saftey in the person they call parent no matter how old or young either one is.

This is something Clockwork has yet to teach Danny. Not for any real reason, simply that it was something he forgot about. This lack of information led to Danny seeing absolutely nothing wrong with using his own ectoplasm to heal Jason's far to small and fragile core, help purge the corrupted ectoplasm from Jason's systems and heal him.

Jason is very confused when he almost calls Danny "dad" a few days later, and Danny isn't quite sure why the idea of leaving Jason to deal with things on his own in Gothem leaves such a rotten taste in his mouth. Danny thinks it must be his Protection Obession and Jason thinks he's just finally lost it.

Oooo ok lemme first say that I have a bullet point draft of an entire ass fic for this now. I might post it if enough people want it but I’m unsure if I have the energy to finish it fully.

Anon you have captured my heart and soul. Ectoplasm sharing allowing ghosts to create funky pseudo vampire coven-like family structures is SUCH a cool idea.

Jason is confused. He's scared of why he feels this way. He doesn't even really know this guy. This glowing ghost hero saved him when he was near death and he IS truly grateful for the man saving his life... but his feelings with the Phantom go further than simple gratitude, it's something more, something that he feels with his entire core. There is a connection he has with Phantom that started ever since that night; A bond that runs far deeper than anything he’s ever felt and with an intensity that surpasses description in written or spoken word.

Jason feels like he’s gravitating toward Phantom like he’s being pulled by an invisible string towards the man. Just with his nearby presence Jason feels a deep set sense of comfort and safety thrum through his very soul. On the day that Jason had to leave Amity, Phantom met up with him at the edge of town to say his goodbyes. They chatted for a few minutes, both trying to delay the inevitable departure of the Gotham vigilante for as long as possible with small barbs and jokes passed back and forth along with the promise to visit sometime soon. Just as Jason was about to leave, Phantom stepped forward and held out his arms for a hug.

If a lesser man tried to hug The Red Hood in mere days of knowing each other, they would’ve been knocked off their feet and threatened with the wrong end of Hood’s gun barrels pointing straight at their groin. Jason couldn’t describe it but Phantom wasn’t one of those lesser men. A sense of family and safety surrounded the Protector of Amity in a way that Jason hadn’t felt in years.

Jason went in for the hug.

The second Phantom’s arms wrapped around him, Jason was surrounded by such an overwhelming sense of security and warmth that he had to fight back tears. Everything about Phantom’s hold felt right in a way that Bruce’s hugs never came close to comparing. Phantom continued to embrace him and lifted a hand up to slowly run his fingers through Jason’s hair. Continued waves of calm and protection resonated with something deep in the core of his being as all of the mental walls he carefully crafted since he emerged from the grave start to slip. Against his best efforts, a few tears start to slip past his domino mask. He wants to curse himself for not wearing his helmet on this mission but a few tears being seen was a paltry sum for the pure comfort of the ghostly hands slowly carding through his hair.

It felt equally like eons and seconds before they split apart. Every fiber in Jason’s being was screaming to go back into Phantom’s embrace, but he was called back to Gotham by the League for an emergency meeting and refusing to go would sully the very fragile relationships with his brothers that he’s tried so very hard to repair.

With each step away from Phantom towards his motorbike it felt as if metal shackles tied themselves to his feet and got heavier and heavier with each step.

He swung himself on top of his bike and sped off towards the direction of Gotham, his every instinct telling him to turn back with every mile further from Amity Park.

He couldn’t help himself from thinking of Phantom on his long drive back to New Jersey. A deep pit in his stomach telling him that leaving Phantom behind was a very very bad idea

#bones replies #dpxdc #danny phantom #dp x dc #dc #dc comics #writing prompts #prompts #dp x dc prompt #Jason Todd #anon #Red Hood #queue

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sshbpodcast · 6 months

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Character Spotlight: Pavel Chekov

By Ames

Ever hear an old Russian folktale called Star Trek: The Original Series? I have it on good authority that it was written by a little old lady in Leningrad. That’s right: we’re shining the spotlight on the Enterprise’s Russian navigator this week on A Star to Steer Her By, so be prepared to hear way too many tall tales from the garden of Eden, located right outside of Moscow.

Somehow it was easier coming up with enough best and worst moments from Pavel Chekov to fill out our list than it was for Sulu and Uhura, and even Scotty for that matter! Maybe it’s that we’ve just loved picking on Walter Koenig over the years, or maybe it’s that it just sounded like so much fun writing comic relief scenes for him. So read on below and listen to our banter on this week’s podcast episode (chat starts at 1:14:49). It’s definitely worth a couple ham sandwiches.

Best Moments

The Russian waltz “I, Mudd” turns into one of the silliest sequences from The Original Series by the end as the crew puts on a dumb show to confuse the robots into having mental breakdowns. And this includes some pretty great work from Chekov, waltzing with Uhura and then illogically getting slapped by her, and dancing emphatically when he’s been ordered to be absolutely still. Does not compute!

Scared to death… er, life Despite being a pill throughout most of “The Deadly Years,” Chekov did end up contributing to the antidote for the other crewmembers’ old age problem simply by being a pathetic little coward. Because he was so scared to see Alvin’s dead body, Chekov was immune from the condition due to his increased adrenaline, which Doc deduces. Eek!

She wants to shop, and I thought I would help her In a rather cute moment in “The Trouble with Tribbles,” Chekov agrees to go shopping with Uhura on Space Station K7. It’s just a small little moment of bonding that could have been any of the characters, but it’s just good of Chekov to accompany the lieutenant while on shore leave, and being there when she adopts her pet tribble.

You started it, didn't you? We also have to give Chekov some credit for not snitching on Scott’s initiating the massive brawl all over the bar in “The Trouble with Tribbles.” Chekov was itching for a fight himself, but Scott throws the first punch and then Chekov keeps mum about it while Kirk is questioning all the combatants. How did the fight itself go? Well you’ll see…

Pavel of all trades We see a lot of instances of crewmembers filling in for each other on the ship. Last week, we mentioned how Uhura jumped in to do some rewiring work. And in “The Immunity Syndrome,” we see Chekov manning the science station throughout the episode during moments when Spock is either busy or on a one-way trip into a space amoeba, as one does.

If he shoots at me, I will just step out of the way Despite getting gunned down like a dog by Morgan Earp in “Spectre of the Gun,” Chekov does manage to help the others figure out the puzzle of their OK Corral setting. Billy Claiborne didn’t die in the shootout in real life (he ran away, like we could imagine Chekov doing), so the others realize this scenario doesn’t have to match history. Thanks, Chekov. Sorry about the dying part.

Arm… photon… torpedoes… As usual, we’ve got lots more moments to highlight from the minor bridge characters in the movies compared to the television show, so let’s start off with The Motion Picture. Chekov is mostly around to feed various lines of technobabble and to get his arm zapped by his console, but he also successfully juliennes the space potato in that horribly extended wormhole sequence.

Botany Bay? Oh no! We get a ton of action from Chekov while he’s serving on the Reliant in The Wrath of Khan though! He figures out (too late, mind you) that something is afoot on the Botany Bay when he finds a clue. And even more impressive, he somehow survives having a ceti eel latch around his brain, fighting off Khan’s manipulation that would have coaxed him into killing Kirk!

And Admiral, it is the Enterprise! As usual, The Voyage Home has the most stuff for the lesser main characters to do, which is a treat. And Pavel gets some time to shine when he and Uhura find the nuclear-powered aircraft carrier Enterprise (a great touch!), infiltrate it, and sneak out some of its photons. And like when he escorted her to K7, he’s an entire gentleman and even lets Uhura beam out first!

Winter Storm Walter I just find this delightful. Chekov and Sulu hiking in the woods together and enjoying their little playdate in The Final Frontier is sweet enough on its own, but when Chekov wants to save face and avoid telling Uhura that they got lost before being called back to duty, he fakes a blizzard. And just how badly he impersonates the wind is just part of the charm of this scene!

Warp speed now! Man, we really are seeing The Final Frontier represented a surprising amount in our best moments in this spotlight series! It’s undoubtedly one of Chekov’s best moments, possibly because he has the most to do: tricking Sybok by pretending to be the captain of the Enterprise, going up against a Klingon Bird of Prey, and getting his party back aboard before warping away!

Next time, stick with synthehol Finally, just a small detail that Jake really liked from The Undiscovered Country. While the dinner scene with the Klingons mostly just came across as racist (as Ames noted in our Kirk spotlight), Walter Koenig just had perfect delivery of the line, “Only the size of my head,” jesting about the radiation surge and his hangover from all that Romulan ale.

—

Worst Moments

Hey hey we’re the Monkees Place your votes on which of the early-season-2 wigs was the worst. Watching poor Walter Koenig in these absolutely atrocious Monkees wigs in episodes like “Amok Time” and “Who Mourns for Adonais?” is just painful. They look like really poorly styled women’s bob hairpieces, and I cannot take anyone wearing them seriously.

We all move up in rank It’s funny how little we actually see mirror Chekov in “Mirror, Mirror,” and yet what a great effect he has in establishing the world. He has all of three lines in the whole episode (plus a whole lot of great Koenig screaming), and yet we understand from how he so utterly fails at mutinying that in this world it’s kill or be killed. And Chekov clearly doesn’t have the chops.

Trouble on paradise planet On the other hand, we see entirely too much of Chekov in “The Apple,” and it’s mostly all cringe. Literally moments after watching Hendorff get killed and Yeoman Landon is concerned about their safety, Chekov comes onto her with a “I've been wanting to get you in a place like this for a long time.” The two of them are just horny teenagers all episode long and it’s all really immature.

If I live long enough, I'm going to run out of samples Chekov also comes across as just plain whiny and even more immature in “The Deadly Years” when he’s complaining and complaining about undergoing tests for McCoy to figure out what caused his afore-mentioned immunity. His fellow crewmates and everyone who’d been in that colony are dying / have died of old age, and he’s insensitive enough to complain about a couple samples?

You heard what he called the captain While the brawl in “The Trouble with Tribbles” is indeed a thing of beauty, it does make Chekov come across as both needlessly violent when Scott has to talk him out of attacking Klingons a couple times, and also as woefully incompetent when all his punches have exactly no effect on his assailant. It’s just a little “Chekov is weak” joke that’s kinda dumb when you think about it.

Piotr would be ashamed This one comes with a content warning for attempted rape. Like Kirk in “The Enemy Within,” when Chekov is affected by the Beta XII-A entity which is making everyone angry in “Day of the Dove,” he goes straight to sexually assaulting Kang’s wife Mara, and it’s uncomfortable and immoral and shameful. I will not be hearing excuses, energy being–related or otherwise.

Feeling a little Defiant Hey, another instance of Chekov being influenced by some kind of space craziness, this time by the area of space that also took the Defiant in “The Tholian Web.” Something about this area sends crewmembers into a fury, and Chekov is first on the list to go mindlessly ravenous. I’ve said before that this episode really doesn’t make a ton of sense, and here’s just more evidence.

Be incorrect, occasionally While we felt Spock and Bones were woefully out of character in “The Tholian Web,” Chekov felt miswritten in “The Way to Eden.” He belittles his old girlfriend’s way of life, and she counters that he’s always been so straight-laced and by-the-book. Since when!? Perhaps this was left over from when she was meant to be McCoy’s daughter, because being judgemental does not feel like a Chekov trait.

This is Ceti Alpha V! Yes, Chekov, a planet has to be “completely lifeless” for the Genesis Device to test there. We could understand how tricky it might be to account for a tiny organism or something, but you somehow missed a whole colony of augmented humans in The Wrath of Khan. How can someone miss that? And to not notice which planet you’re even on? What is this, amateur hour?

We are looking for nuclear wessels While I could just give hell to whatever accent Walter Koenig thought he was doing (nuclear wessels, my foot), let’s make this The Voyager Home moment about getting his ass captured by U.S. navy men, absolutely failing to escape and breaking his everything, and needing everyone else to stop what they were doing to get him rescued. And have I mentioned the whole “wessels” thing?

Put Chekov at the kids’ table from now on I give Nichelle Nichols credit for refusing to say “Guess who’s coming to dinner” in The Undiscovered Country because to have a black woman say a line with such racial undercurrents would be a mistake, so Chekov says it instead. You coulda just read the room and cut it entirely, but whatever. Then Chekov makes a fool of himself by speaking of “inalienable human rights” only to be positively schooled by Azetbur, and rightly so.

If shoe fits, wear it We’ve been surprised how many of our best moments have come from The Final Frontier, and on the flip side it’s just as surprising how many of our worst moments have come from The Undiscovered Country. Despite being a genuinely good film, it sometimes screws over its characters, like when Chekov is made a fool yet again by not checking crewman Dax’s feet before accusing him of being the movie’s Cinderella.

— Clearly all this has been a Russian inwention. Stay tuned for one final character spotlight from The Original Series, as we’ve only got Nurse Chapel yet to go. We’re also continuing our trip through Enterprise over on SoundCloud or wherever you podcast, you can share Russian tales with us over on Facebook and Twitter, and check to make sure that wig isn’t on backwards.

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unlady-like-12-25-36 · 2 years

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Romanoff's Delight

_Chapter 1_ Natasha Romanoff x f!reader

Warning: Mentions and descriptions of abuse, and eating disorder. I think that's it. If there are any more, I should add that's also a trigger warning, lmk. I do not control what you consume online. You have been warned!

A/n: If any of the content is triggering for you, do not read or skip the y/n pov part since that is the only part of this fic that I put a warning for. If you chose to read this fic and have been triggered, please seek help and do not send any hate to me or any other amazing mutual writers out there just b/c you chose to ignore warnings! I will come after you if any of you do! You have been warned!

A/sn: age gap relationship. Nat is 33 and r is 20. Sry if i failed to put this up earlier 😅

A/sn 2: This fic was heavily inspired by Bazzi's new album Infinite dream. If y'all are interested plz go listen to it on Spotify or apple music or anywhere it's available. Also, I found it interesting that there is a dessert out there called Strawberry Romanoff and its origin is really interesting. so I was inspired to name it after our fav Tasha Bear.

<! --- --- > - means the start and end of anyone's pov

Word count: 3,906 🤷‍♀️ If any of that matters. Also sry if it's very long for a first chapter 😅

________________

"Does it hurt?" Asked the rabbit. "Sometimes," said the skin horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are real, you don't mind being hurt." - Margery Williams Bianco, The Velveteen Rabbit

_Earth 616 Norway_ 2016_

As Natasha arrived back at her safehouse from the store, she finished the rest of her coffee and briefly prepared herself before leaving the car for anything that could be secretly waiting for her inside. With a careful step, she entered her trailer house as quietly as possible while holding her gun in front as a safe way to take point of the area if it ever was unsafe. When Natasha had come across her bedroom, she had let her guard down when she had heard her friend snoring away on her bed. Just then, as she kept her movements as quiet as possible, a look of mischief bore her face as she got closer to see if her friend, Mason, was still asleep before lightly kicking him awake, causing him to gasp in surprise.

"You're in my bed."

"I'm.. I'm not under the covers," he says to justify his reason for sleeping on her bed, even if he wasn't under the covers. Yet, that didn't mean she wasn't unhappy about it.

"Got everything on my list?"

"Got passports, entry visas, a couple of local driver's licenses. Mix and match; you should be able to stretch it to 20 or so identities."

"Fanny Longbottom?"

"What?"

"What, are you 12?"

"That's a legitimate name," he says, chuckling. "We got a generator outside. It's petrol-powered, and septic tank will flush in a couple of weeks. But you know, I have a guy coming for that. You have to haul your rubbish into town. It's just a 20-minute drive. And I've got your basic hardware kit stashed under the stairs."

"Nice," she says as gratefully as she can without giving away how distraught she is at how easy it was for the Avengers to break apart and take sides over a political deal multiple countries had signed. However, that quickly fails as Mason immediately senses that not everything is ok. Or so he thinks, as Natasha had only ever called him when she needed something, nothing more. Though she longed for a family she's never had, the Avengers she strove so hard to keep together make it as though it wasn't as it seemed or something she hoped it would be.

As Natasha deflected Mason's attempts to get her to open up a little about how she felt about the situation, Mason soon realised that maybe he should stop trying as she's only kept him at arm's length—making him walk away disapprovingly. That night as she's settled in, she cracks a beer and heats a can of soup. At the same time, she watches one of her favourite James Bond movies on her laptop to comfort her as her concerns about her life begin to come to the forefront of her mind in the hopes of straying off any nightmares she might have tonight. With the stress of her situation and the mail brought from the Budapest safe house, the last thing she needs is a nightmare to deal with when she's spent the past few days staying out of Secretary Ross's radar.

_Earth 01 New York_2016_

<!--- Y/n's pov

When I returned to the house from school and settled in, my mind began drifting over to the many binders that contained photographs of our so-called family since I had lost all interest in finishing any of my homework. As I picked one off my bookshelf in my bedroom, I began to look through all the pictures of my very early years from the day they took me in. When I reached the end of my early years, especially my first picture in the whole album, I always found it strange that there was nothing written or even an image of how I was found or why I was left at their doorstep, leaving me to die potentially. However, as tempting as it is to think about all possible scenarios of why they chose not to tell me or leave anything regarding my origins, my feelings about my longing for a home, better life and relationships with other people that I could never have become increasingly evident. Let alone accept that I would never be accepted because I wasn't normal like everyone else. Especially the fact that I have eyes that are two completely different colours already says a lot. My right eye is green, while my left eye is brown. Heterochromia is what they call it. However, mine was complete rather than the normal variation of partial or split, leaving me to wonder which eye colour I was supposed to be born with since my body clearly couldn't choose one.

That night as I lay restless, I pulled out a picture of my beloved grandfather from underneath my pillow, savouring all the stories I'd heard about how close I was with him. And not to get too philosophically profound, but from observing families afar from my times outside, I'd like to think that from the time we were born, the world would feel it was in our hands. Something we can grasp within our hands, new, exciting, and worth exploring. Something I think we once had, our first experiences of the world take the form of love, some of its joy, and may even warmth. Others' first experiences, however, are of the less fortunate. They may not even know that feeling of love, joy or warmth until they become adults. However, at only five years old, nobody once told me to savour that sliver of a taste of love and happiness while it lasted.

Because once it's gone, you can never get it back. Since the day of my grandfather's funeral, I realised my childhood had ended, and so did a piece of my heart. From that day on, my family was never the same. Or should I say my "foster parents?" Ever since they had mysteriously taken me in, I've never really known what to call them since they've never felt like family to me, let alone be anything but parental figures in my life. I've known them to constantly fight while going on a spree of breaking anything they can get their hands on and treating me like I wasn't their own. That didn't mean I wasn't at least grateful for giving me some of my basic needs, no matter how much of that was out of pity. Since the funeral, they began to fight more often, my father's family started getting into each other's throats, and lastly, his family began targeting my mother again as if she were the cause of my loving grandfather's passing. And soon enough, I was also thrown into the deep end.

Little did I know, that would also mean that I would lose every piece of who I was or what it felt like was happening. Though that would be the first of many funerals, what struck me at the time was how I could never wrap my mind around others' perspectives of how or why people love to say and believe that children do not understand and have the concept of death. Still, to this day, I can't understand those others' perspectives of how children understand death. I've always seen it as a naive frame of thinking of how children see and understand the world. And quite frankly, I find that to be insulting. However, I am not a child anymore, and I find the feeling to be mutual regarding children. Nevertheless, that doesn't excuse them for condescending behaviour to outright call a child stupid for a concept they may or may not have. Yet, I may be biased to my own experience at that age, whereas I think children at five years old can somewhat grasp the concept of death just as much as they can understand love and joy.

In the year or two that followed, I began to have unhealthy feelings of self-consciousness, frequent thoughts of suicide and contemplated self-harm in many ways. At the time, I could not define the meaning of these feelings that were happening simultaneously. That is until I vocalised the word depressed to myself by asking myself if I was depressed. Yet, I was still in the process of understanding all those feelings and why I was always in a distressed state that caused me to cry myself to sleep, no matter how terrified I was to sleep alone at night. I even began weighing myself every week to see if I had met my mother's expected weight she wanted me to be causing my relationship with food to be compromised. Gradually, I started reducing the amount I ate every day. That's until I only ate half of what my small plate could contain, just like what my mother hoped I would. Yet the more guilty I felt about it as I craved more and ate more in secret.

As I grew older, those feelings of depression and its friend anxiety grew more unbearable, causing me not ever to eat whenever those feelings started to spiral inside my head and eventually led me to skip school altogether. I would also have days where I only ate two meals a day or did not even have a proper meal. I would even go on for days on meals consisting of peanut butter sandwiches or sandwiches containing only butter and sugar, only to briefly switch to appropriate meals as I was told by my mother to avoid any added blame or abuse.

To add to the pain I got through daily, my mother would even say the most demeaning things about me since the funeral, leaving me to feel like they were true even after all those years. And when I started to believe those lies, I began looking at myself in the mirror and seeing myself as the monster she saw in me. When I turned twelve, that's when I started to realise how twisted my mother's ways were. Then before I fully understood what was happening to me, I was found in an expected predicament of being forced to psychologically convince myself that I was romantically and sexually attracted to boys, not girls, when I was seen blushing one day at school over some boy I never even liked. In reality, I've always been romantically and sexually attracted to girls long before I was even aware that homosexuality was highly frowned upon. I even once cursed whoever had given me powers when they occasionally flared up. I never knew where they came from, much less who my birth parents were. Even at that moment, I questioned what it meant to be home or even to be a family. As the reality of the moment crashed down on me, that's when I knew the answer I'd been looking for lay within my heart. This torn-apart family, this house, and this life are none of those things I was made to believe. Hell, even this reality I was living in didn't feel real. Not when I spent most of my life without knowing what it's like to have feelings and be separated from the outside world.

Meanwhile, my older brother had it easy—way too easy for my taste, at least for me. I know it's shocking to me, too, to see that I'm not the only child. In fact, my brother, Dominic, is their only biological child. He's everything every parent wants in a child, even more so for a boy. Although I'd like to disagree, I'd admit I love him as much as they do. Both of us had our fair share of sibling rivalry and heartfelt moments. However, I can never agree on or bear at any given moment how easy it is for all of our family and extended family to argue and defend him as if he were their lord and saviour for the family's good reputation. Yet, I somehow put a bad name simply by breathing. That isn't to say that I despise him for being the golden child. It wasn't because of this toxic concept of family that made me love him, but what he did for me, or at least tried for my sake, as he was the only one in my dysfunctional family that saw me as his family whom he loved.

Since then, my days have felt like nothing but a constant mind-numbing nightmare. Though, the universe occasionally likes to sprinkle in bittersweet moments to mess with my mind to make it seem like I'm invertedly going insane. But if I were, I wouldn't be surprised if it was caused by the kind of life I have. Although lately, these days have felt a lot more gruelling than usual. You frustratedly sighed as you put your grandfather's photo underneath your pillow and got out of bed, knowing you wouldn't be able to go back to sleep anytime soon and that it's been hours since being woken up by your parents fighting again. As you rummaged around your room to find something to distract you, there was only so much you could do to make your life a little better.

Sure, listening to music does help cope with the noise, but not enough to make it better by any means truly. For drawing, it's nice but not enough to give you some substance to occupy your time and mind before wondering when it's safe to go back to sleep. Then there's writing. Many of us use a powerful tool that some take for granted. At the same time, writing can give us pleasure. Yet, people don't know that writers such as myself write and create these imaginary worlds because we crave to be able to not only have a better life but also to wish to live in a different world without any setbacks. However, this hour wouldn't be great to do as well since, you know, it requires peace and being able to hear yourself think. As your parents' fights got a bit louder as the night dragged on, you resorted to listening to music, daydreaming of what it would be like to live in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, with a few changes, and absentmindedly making paper stars.

Little did you know that your and Natasha's life would change that night as you added more green stars into your jar while she wrote in her journal. --- >

After Natasha had written in her journal for the night after watching two James bond movies, the power in her trailer home faded out just as she was about to start another film. "oh great.." she grumbles while her cat, Liho, briefly looks at her as if asking what she's complaining about before going back to sleep on the couch.

She gets up and changes out her pants for cargo joggers, a light jacket, and light-up gloves that wrap around her hands so that she doesn't need to bring anything else before putting on her boots to assess the issue or if she begrudgingly needs to get more gas for the rest of the night. As she stepped out, she was met with a gush of cold wind that immediately made her shiver, and she wished that the power to her safe house didn't go out until morning. Yet, like all adults, she puts up with it and grabs the hardware kit from under the stairs. After assessing the issue, Natasha begrudgingly cursed Mason for getting her a crappy generator that's said to last for 12 hours when it only lasted for five hours when the tank was full. She detached the generator link, put her empty gas container into the passenger seat of her car, and drove into town for more gas.

When Natasha came back, Liho eagerly greeted her once she opened the door, causing Natasha to always pick her up so that she could even step inside the house. And just like always, she fondly smiles at Liho's antics every time she comes and greets her. Even if Natasha wasn't gone that long, she has a small reminder that she has someone always waiting for her at home, furry companion or not; it's one of the small things she cherishes. Once she has gotten herself comfortable on the couch again, this time with Liho in her lap, she unexpectedly let out a yawn before clicking on a popular series on Netflix, Stranger Things, to watch just until she falls asleep.

Meanwhile, y/n finished making another green paper star and dumped it into a jar containing other paper stars she had made. Deciding that it was enough stars for the evening, Y/n securely screwed the lid back on and decided to return to bed. However, after she got up and stretched, she let out a big yawn before taking off her headphones, hoping that her parents had finally gone to their bedrooms for the night. As Y/n ensured they were asleep, she sighed in relief before peeking at the clock to see what time it was.

3:00 A.M.

It read in bold red, making it mock Y/n for even being awake at this hour, just like it did to Spongebob. With that thought, Y/n let out a deep breath as a subtle gesture to remind herself that she'll be ok. Worries and stress still plagued Y/n, even in the back of her mind, so Y/n grabbed Ryan, her stuffed lion, into her arms and finally went back to sleep.

As Natasha decided to opt for her bed instead of the couch that night, she finally lays peacefully asleep with Liho curled up at the foot of her bed. As both women drifted deeper to sleep, Y/n and Natasha found themselves at two different ends of the same ethereal dreamscape.

"Woah… Where am I?" Y/n says, astonished at how ethereal everything looks. As a feather falls near her eye, she looks up and sees flower petals of all different colours and white feathers rain from the sky.

Not too soon after, she's greeted by her stuffed lion that Y/n loves to hug at night, only to take the shape of an actual lion not too soon. Puzzled by what was happening, Y/n got on the lion's back and took her to a waterfall that lay within a bushy groove well beyond the luscious flower field. When she gets off the lion's back, she pets its head before hesitantly walking into the body of water, where the waterfall fills a large pond. Y/n becomes perplexed at seeing her opposite reflection in the water as she stands in front of the waterfall. Her reflection showed the same raven hair she had. Yet, her skin was soft and fair, with greenish blue eyes and freckles littered across her face's sinuses, unlike Y/n's mismatched coloured eyes and smooth olive skin.

Then, as if on cue, the sun shone brighter, revealing a mysterious figure standing in the cave's shadows behind the waterfall. When trying to get a better view of the person, Y/n felt like they were compelling her to get closer. However, as she got closer to the mysterious person, the farther they were, making it seem as though it was impossible to get to them. Almost as if it was the definitive embodiment of chasing a shadow. Finally, as Y/n had stopped putting effort into catching up with the person, she found she had been able to get close enough to reach out to them. As she did, they began to fade away just before she could get a glimpse of them.

However, she felt at a loss before Y/n could process what had happened. At the same time, Y/n found herself at the end of the cave with a door embedded into the wall. She felt a sense of familiarity as she took in the door's regal yet indigenous design. Yet, she couldn't place where she may have seen it before. The door had a wonderfully crafted natural walnut-coloured frame, a gold border that laid flush underneath the natural walnut frame and added to the gold frame was black steel moulded into swirled designs. Next, the doors themselves had a beautiful smooth espresso oak wood finish, and on it was a big heart-swirled design at the top made out of the same black steel on the gold border. Finally, the handles were made out of gold with a curve towards the end. With open-minded curiosity, Y/n approached it and gently opened the door. Behind it was a bright passage that resembled something similar to what Tony Stark would design. Then without hesitation, she walked through the door while her lion walked along with her as moral support.

On the other hand, Natasha was in the middle of a debilitating nightmare. During the point of the agonising part of her nightmare, she was abruptly relieved of her pain and entered an ethereal-like dream. It was so abrupt that it took her a bit more time than usual to adjust to the natural bright light of the sun, only to realise that white feathers and flower petals of every colour fell from the sky. As Natasha takes in the beauty of the luscious flower fields, a marbled-coloured pig with a collar appears to greet Natasha with an eager oink. But then, the pig began rooting at Natasha's calf as if telling her to walk in the direction to her right. At first, her reaction was to shoo away the creature. Doing so only encouraged the pig even more. After much-rooted insistence from the pig, Natasha gave in and followed the pig into a forest just after the field of flowers and into a clearing within the forest's heart.

In the clearing, there were boulders; some covered in moss surrounded the edges of the clearing in a particular order. And on those boulders were engraved symbols, except for the one directly in front of Natasha. On that large boulder were a door that was embedded into it and the only one that was heavily covered in moss and a few mushrooms and cosmo flowers. To her discontent, the door had the same design as the ones from her time in the Red Room, making her quite hesitant to approach it to see what was on the other side.

Similarly, Natasha also felt compelled. Only when she was in front of it did the door open itself. There, as she stood in front of the open door, it showed nothing but a bright passage waiting to see what awaited her. At that moment, she closed her eyes and exhaled deeply before going through the door. Yet, because of the amount of blinding light at the end of the passage, she kept her eyes closed only to realise that the blinding light turned out to be the sunlight coming from her window, that she forgot to draw in the blinds last night. However, as Natasha was about to pull in the blinds to get more sleep, she quickly realised she was not alone. On instinct, she reached for her gun to quietly assess if the girl sleeping next to her was hostile. Still, Natasha doubted that the girl was hostile when she saw her hugging a quirky orange bear in her sleep.

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dm me or drop in an ask if you ever want to be added to this series. Or if y'all just want to talk, my inbox is open. So don't be shy talk to me.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff mcu #natalia alianovna romanova #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #black widow #black widow x y/n #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #black widow x you

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freetheshit-outofyou · 6 months

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"Davis now remains in custody at TGK after being charged with armed robbery, attempted first-degree murder with a deadly weapon, aggravated battery on a pregnant victim with a deadly weapon, domestic battery, resisting officer without violence, criminal mischief and battery on a corrections officer.

Arrest records show he's being held on $18,500 bond." (3,700.00 and this turd walks.) I want you to take a real good look at those charges and that bail and now compare that to the no bail of Julian Khater and George Tanios "Assault on Federal Officer with Dangerous Weapon and Conspiracy to Injure an Officer" charges. The deadly weapon was pepper spray by the way, not a gun or a knife or a cooking pan.

This is why at some point the citizenry will be forced to deal with these vermin, the courts are perfectly ok with arraigning people for very violent crimes and then putting them right back on the streets with little to no inconvenience to the criminal. Before one of you bleeding hearts say "Vigilantism isn't the answer!", You are right, it's not, I am not encouraging that in any way. Everyone should have their day in court, face their accuser and present evidence in their defense, EVERYONE. What I am saying is the citizens don't have to accept being victimized by people who SHOULD still be locked up or at the very least on a very short electronic leash. When there is no real penalty for criminal activity, the law is worthless. When the law is only apply to those trying to defend their homes, their families, their livelihoods and their possessions then "The law is an ass". I wish we lived in a world where people could leave their doors open at night, cars unlocked, not worry about being robbed at gun point at the ATM, followed home from the store and robbed for taking out 100.00 at the register or sexually assaulted on a train platform just waiting to go home, but we don't live in that pipe dream. We live in a world where criminals are given more and more leeway to do the worst possible things to the population. We live in a world where people get so mad driving they shoot other drivers. A world where criminals commit violent crime and are let go on low bail or no bail to continue attacking the citizens before the victims are even out of the hospital. We will be forced to reckon this at some point, or it will be total criminal rule with the protection of the political body supporting them over the citizen.

#me #crime #violent crime #low bail #no bail

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daz4i · 1 year

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ok. a post to brainstorm doa chuuya bc i gave myself mild brainrot over it just by putting those words together

if any detail in this post inspires you to make art or write a fic please on god tag me if you post it or send it to me 👀👉👈

so. i have a few ideas and unfortunately i can’t quite get them to gel together into one, so i may as well list them all

the mentor fukuchi option

fukuchi got him out of the research facility around the time he was 14-15ish, and, well. mentored him - taught him to fight and basically put in his head all these ideas about unifying the world

i imagine chuuya would be loyal to him, but still somewhat suspicious, esp when he can’t remember his past. speaking of

the bait option

idk if bait is quite the right word? but, like. the way sigma is kept in the doa - he’s promised something he simply can’t say no to. and that thing is information about his past, kept by fyodor who gives him small bits after every mission he completes - just enough to keep him going, but not enough to make him feel fulfilled and want to leave

i’m not sure where this would fit with the timing in his life, but i assume he gets to be in the sheep here, but not with the mafia. do the events of 15 simply not happen? does he simply say no to mori’s offer? maybe fyodor meets him on that cliff before he gets to dazai. idk.

i lied when i said there are a few ideas btw i think i only have these two. anyway the real interesting part isn’t the how and why but rather what he’ll be like when interacting with the members and such. starting with the simplest and getting more complicated as i go

(also an important detail i can’t seem to find a place to fit, but i assume the doa will have the means to nullify arahabaki before it kills chuuya, given how fukuchi has ties not only with the government but also the un, and given how meursault has cells that nullify abilities, one can assume such technology exists and in which case there’s no reason for the doa not to get their hands on it. also as i typed this i remembered sigma has this nullifying gun iirc. so they probably just have more and this is how they get arahabaki down when they need to. or maybe it’s implemented in him somehow, like they can remotely activate smth that’s constantly on him coughchokercough and “turn off” arahabaki without getting near him)

bram

yeah no he doesn’t know about his existence. at least not at first? in the mentor fukuchi option i’m sure fukuchi will show him bram at some point, right before the time of the doa’s introduction in the main story. in this case, i feel like chuuya would honestly feel a sense of kinship with bram, both kind of used as a weapon of mass destruction, except unlike bram he can leave if he wants to (but... can he really? a bit harsh to think about, so he doesn’t like, go out of his way to interact with him)

sigma

“oh my god. another sane person. thank you”

like bram, def a lot of sense of kinship here, but more about the “i only remember the last few years of my life” thing. i feel like they could actually be friends even beyond that, tho. they’re really similar in a lot of ways and they could def bond over it, and i think having someone like chuuya around would make sigma feel better about the whole thing, which i think will make him even deadlier, more desperate to stay in this place he calls home. also, chuuya could back him up in the casino arc, and. um. yeah the hunting dogs will not survive that one

nikolai

nikolai finds out chuuya can technically fly and loses his shit. chuuya will become his new favorite person (but like, the way sigma is, not the way fyodor is). chuuya does not like that to say the least, but he does like to train with him sometimes bc nikolai can help him hone his reflexes

eventually nikolai would get tired of him tho imo? at least in the pre-canon part. chuuya would just be annoyed with his antics, no surprises, and it’ll get boring for nikolai. then he’ll find out abt the arahabaki thing and immediately chuuya is the most interesting person in the world again. he will definitely try to get him to use it constantly. he would love arahabaki sm.

during the actual story tho, after nikolai defects, i imagine he’ll want to free chuuya too. maybe he’ll steal his choker at some point, store it in his overcoat. “prove your free will by possibly be willing to die if you let arahabaki run loose” sort of thing, but actually it’s secretly “don’t be confined by what fyodor and fukuchi are doing to you. be your own person. never use arahabaki if you don’t want to”

fyodor

definitely the one holding the metaphorical leash over him, and chuuya knows it, and hates it. if we go by the “fyodor coming to recruit him at the end of 15′s events” route, he’ll hate how much the guy reminds him of dazai. also he thinks he’s creepy. still, he respects his plans, and does as he’s told for now, but he knows damn well not to trust fyodor. i imagine in said recruiting moment fyodor would probably kill some/all of the sheep to give him a sense of helplessness and like he has no other option but to go with him, so naturally chuuya would resent him for that

like p much everyone else, he has no idea what fyodor’s ability is, but he noticed pretty early that fyodor seems unkillable, so he doesn’t even try. something tells him that despite his own immense power, he won’t be able to kill fyodor, so he picks his battles carefully and never even tries (tho, maybe in the future. maybe i could offer more insight once we learn what fyodor’s ability is and what’s the deal with his supposed immortality)

fukuchi

father figure (derogatory)

i kinda of already got into it in the mentor fukuchi option, so as a tldr, chuuya respects him, is loyal to him, but is suspicious of him

however in the other option i feel like the knowledge of fukuchi being a part of a terrorist organization despite his position would kind of make him... bitter? also eternally curious if fukuchi was somehow involved/knew people who were involved in the arahabaki project somehow. he tries to keep his distance from him, just do what he’s told so he can get what he wants, without getting involved with things bigger than him

i imagine if anyone encourages him to use arahabaki a lot - for actual strategical reasons, not like nikolai who mostly thinks it’s cool - it’d be fukuchi (fyodor would not want to rely on smth this chaotic unless there’s no other choice, imo), which would also make chuuya resent him a bit.

also i wonder if fukuchi would ask him to infiltrate the hunting dogs with him in any of these options. could also be interesting, and also oddly fitting tbh.

anyway yeah that’s all i have for you now. would love to hear your own ideas, or takes on what i already wrote here, just be respectful!! and again if any of this inspires you in any way, please share, i would love to see 🥺

#gonna tag this as #bsd chuuya nakahara #the decay of angels #bsd au #yeah that's enough lol #dan rambles #i will be the first to admit i don't have the best grasp on chuuya's character #so if i'm way off in your opinion on anything here. feel free to offer your take but again just be respectful abt it!!#man some of this feels like a potential fic material. wish i knew how to write 🧐#i def feel like i forgot smth important so i might edit this post later

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