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kooldewd123 · 5 months

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Back in August, we had the anniversary of Ash’s famous Kalos League loss. It's a battle you see talked about time and time again. It's often held up by fans as the one big stain on XY, a disgraceful way for the writers to end Ash’s Kalos journey.

I beg to differ.

I want to offer a different perspective on this loss, because I don't really agree with most of the criticisms levied against it. I don't think it portrays Ash in a negative light, or goes against his development, or anything like that. In fact, I think it’s quite the opposite. I planned to make a post talking about why I feel the loss fits Ash’s character arc back when I started seeing posts commemorating its anniversary, but I had so much to say about Ash’s characterization in this series that it took me until now to write it all down (also i procrastinated).

First of all, I want to address one of the most common critiques of the loss, since it leads nicely into the main point I want to make. This take essentially boils down to "XY had an Ash that was stronger than ever before. Losing goes against that." It's not a wrong reading of the series per se, but it does feel a bit… reductive to me. Yes, XY is about Ash getting stronger. But so are DP, SM, BW, and all the others. Ash becoming stronger over the course of the series is just something we can expect by default. A good Ash story needs to do something else on top of that, and XY especially needed to find an extra angle to his character since he starts the series already near the top of his game. It's actually a similar situation to DP: he came into that series fresh off his victories in the Battle Frontier, and so rather than simply coasting with a story about how strong he is, the writers brought in Paul to challenge him not just in battle, but in terms of philosophy as well.

So with all that said, what is Ash's story in XY actually about, then? Well, the comparison is often made that Ash is the "Brock" of the XY gang, and it's not an unfounded one. He's the most experienced member of the group, as well as the most well put together. The others look to him for leadership, guidance, and inspiration even more than Ash ever did for Brock. More than in any other series, XY Ash is defined by the way he interacts with his friends, and the reverse is also true for them. Let's take a detour and try to quickly run down their character arcs so you can really see what I mean:

Serena starts the series aimless. She’s discontent with her life, wanting something more. Recognizing Ash on TV and remembering his words to "never give up" is what gives her the push to finally take the first steps of her own story. However, those first steps are all she takes. She wants to get away from her mother, but is once again adrift as soon as she meets Ash. She bounces from activity to activity for a while, only deciding to become a Performer after meeting Shauna and having the sudden realization that she doesn't have a long-term goal like Ash. Wanting to be as determined as Ash is, she finally has something to actively work for and even confronts her mother with her newfound passion. She thinks of Ash to give her strength as she starts her first Showcase, and after she messes up, she remembers his advice to "never give up" and continues onward, even incorporating a ribbon she had received from Ash into her outfit to signify her resolve. Ash is at the center of every stage of Serena's journey. Nearly everything she does can be somehow traced back to Ash in one way or another.

That's all well and good, but it's just one example, and Serena's a bit of an extreme case, anyway. For more evidence, let's look at Clemont. The first time he meets Ash, Ash gets thrown out of Prism Tower, immediately brushes himself off and challenges Clemont to a battle, fights off a group of Pokemon thieves (which is apparently a regular occurrence for him), goes after a rampaging Garchomp with his bare hands, and ends the day off by jumping off the top of the fucking Prism Tower with literally zero hesitation. Following that buck wild first impression, Clemont harbors an immense amount of both admiration and intellectual curiosity for Ash. He constantly praises Ash for his unique battle style, and wants to study it so he can become an even better Gym Leader. He begins taking cues from Ash's style as early as his confrontation with Clembot, as he has to think of unorthodox ways to outsmart the robot programmed to act like him. Following this battle, he and Ash agree to have their Gym battle once Ash has obtained his fourth badge. Ash becomes Clemont's goalpost: having seen what Ash is capable of, he wants to be a Gym Leader worthy of fighting him. And when we finally reach this battle, he proves that he has absolutely succeeded, incorporating everything he's learned from Ash and more into their climactic showdown.

While Ash’s companions in other series generally have stories that run parallel to his, XY stands out by placing Ash right at the center of both Serena and Clemont’s personal journeys. Ash permeates XY in a deeper way than any series before or since. This might be a weird thing to say, but XY isn't really about Ash per se. It's about the idea of Ash. To Serena, Ash is the representation of all the personal qualities she desires, yet lacks. To Clemont, Ash is a new way of battling, something that can help him improve his own abilities even further. So then, what is Ash… to Ash?

I know I just set that up as a big question, but the answer’s actually fairly simple. It's pretty clear that Ash recognizes the effect he has on his friends, and so he leans into it for their benefit. He's constantly trying to improve both himself and Clemont for their eventual battle, and is incredibly encouraging towards Serena every time she takes another step towards her goal (in fact, Serena is possibly the female companion that Ash is least sassy towards, although he’s also just less sassy than usual in this series anyway). Even with his Pokemon, this trait shines through. Froakie was a trouble child for every Trainer that Sycamore had given it to before, yet it respects Ash nearly instantly after seeing him in action. Ash’s encouragement and support is what gives Goomy the strength to grow and take back its home. He acts more parental towards Noibat than any baby Pokemon he had before, but also steps back enough to let Hawlucha take the lead raising it since he sees how strongly the two of them bond.

So here in XY we have a strong, self-assured, mature Ash who takes on a leadership role among the main cast. It’s an Ash that truly feels like he’s been through years of journeys and growth. But if he starts out the series so well-developed, where can his character arc take him?

Enter Sawyer. Not long after Ash has his battle with Clemont, he’s introduced to Sawyer, a rookie Trainer who had lost to Clemont shortly before. On the surface, this doesn’t immediately seem like the makings of a particularly compelling rivalry: an experienced veteran Ash versus a novice with only a single Gym badge to his name. Ash is undeniably the superior one in this dynamic. But once the two of them begin interacting, it becomes immediately clear how much heart there is to their relationship. Ash, ever the older brother figure, sees how much potential Sawyer has and wants to watch him unlock it. Sawyer, the analytical battler, takes notes from Ash’s battles and studies him in a manner not unlike Clemont to learn how to improve himself. Sawyer’s notes pay off in a big way, as he improves at an astronomical pace, winning four more badges in the time it takes Ash to earn just one, and even reaching his eighth before Ash does. Ash and Sawyer have one last battle before Ash heads to win his eight Gym badge, but for the first time, Sawyer manages to surpass and beat Ash. Although he’s glad to have won, his victory shakes both of them. Although they don’t say it directly, they can tell that something’s wrong. Sawyer decides to follow Ash to Snowbelle City to watch him beat Wulfric, but again, Ash loses. Between these two losses, as well as his struggle to master the Bond phenomenon, Ash begins to spiral, and it’s the first time we truly see him grapple with self-doubt in this series. Sawyer looks up to Ash, yet he had failed to live up to Sawyer’s vision of him. And if he’s failed Sawyer, who else has he failed? His companions? His Pokemon? With the image of himself as a mentor and an inspiration thrown into jeopardy, he begins to act uncharacteristically, running off into the woods alone and lashing out at Serena when she tries to help him. After cooling off a bit, he helps some Spewpa trapped in a tree and is saved by Greninja when the branch breaks. One of the Spewpa is blown off a nearby cliff, and when Ash and Greninja both jump into action to save it, they perfect the Ash-Greninja form for the very first time. The entire experience causes Ash to realize that the image of himself as someone everyone could count on had been weighing down on him much more heavily than he had thought. Because of it, he had been placing too much responsibility on himself. He needed to master the Bond phenomenon to become stronger for his team. He needed to beat Wulfric to prove himself to Sawyer. But in the end, he couldn’t do it alone, and ultimately ended up caving under the pressure without even realizing it. It’s only with the help of his friends and Pokemon that he’ll be able to move forward and actually accomplish what he’s set out to do. With that in mind, he’s finally able to reach synchronicity with Greninja, beat Wulfric, and make his way to the Kalos League.

In the semifinals, Ash finally comes face-to-face with Sawyer once again. As the two of them clash, Sawyer recognizes Ash once again. The cloud that had covered him in Snowbelle is gone, and the two of them can have a proper battle. Sawyer can truly show Ash just how far he’s come (and maybe even surpass him for real), and Ash can prove that he won’t falter again. That he really is the person everyone thinks he is. And with Ash-Greninja’s final Water Shuriken, Ash does just that. This battle, not the finals match against Alain, is the conclusion of Ash’s arc in XY. The Trainer that everyone looks up buckling under the weight of those expectations, and yet still managing to prove them right by coming out the other side stronger. I feel it can often get sadly overlooked in favor of the finals, but it’s a satisfying way to encapsulate what XY Ash is all about.

So what’s the deal with the finals, then? Why go through all of this just to have him lose in the end? Doesn’t that undermine the whole message? Well, no, actually. In a vacuum, it might seem that way, but I feel that removing it from the context surrounding it (as you often see in discourse about it) is doing it a disservice. The most important thing about the finals match is that it isn’t really Ash’s battle in the way the semifinals were. Ash’s arc is finished. This is Alain’s battle. Alain’s arc throughout the series effectively boils down to the idea that he wants to gain power in order to protect the people he cares about, first to defend Professor Sycamore’s research, and later to heal Chespie. He’s drawn to the Kalos League by the promise of many strong opponents to train himself against, Ash chief among them. This relentless drive for power, while good-intentioned, leads him to work for Lysandre, blinded to his true motivations. Alain’s victory in the Kalos League is the tipping point of his arc. He’s won the League, proving himself to be among the strongest Trainers in the entire region. And yet, at his moment of victory, when he’s achieved the strength he desired, Team Flare attacks, threatening the entire region. Key to Team Flare’s plans are Z2, whom Alain had helped capture, and the Mega Evolution energy he had helped them study. I often see people upset about Ash’s League loss trying to spin it into a story about Ash learning that winning isn’t everything, but it’s actually the opposite. Alain is the one learning that winning isn’t everything. In his quest for power, he had inadvertently brought danger to the very people he was trying to protect, with Sycamore and Chespie both being directly in Lysandre’s crosshairs.

And all of this eventually leads us to a scene where Lysandre, Alain, and Ash are on Prism Tower together. Alain is paralyzed by his emotions, distraught at what he had unwittingly brought about. Lysandre imprisons Ash and tries to force him to work for him like Alain had, but Ash refuses and breaks free using the Bond phenomenon. And for one final time, we see Ash inspiring people to be better. Seeing Ash act without hesitation, never for a second even considering forsaking his morals and working with Lysandre the way he did, Alain snaps out of his stupor and finally confronts Lysandre. Alain may be the stronger Trainer, but Ash is the better Trainer. Captured, outmatched, and weary from the League, Ash still chose to fight. Win or lose, Ash is still the best, like no one ever was.

#pokemon #pokemon xy #anipoke #ash ketchum #greninja #pokemon sawyer #pokemon alain #koolmathgames.com

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millenial-net-utopia-2010 · 10 months

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Promised Neverland

Other name: Tech-zine future (inspired by July '97 edition of WIRED [picture] [link to read])

Main interest - Retro-Futurism, Cyberpradism; Anemoia (longing for (future that never was) what you didnt experience personally)

Related/Similar to the genres/aesthetics of Vaporwave, Y2K, Cyberpunk and those sorts -

Wonderland, Cyberparadism, Global Village Coffeehouse and Hauntology - among others -

mildly/loosely speaking, Sweet_nostalgia and Childhood_webcore

This aesthetics talks about idea of "what could have been", "what we lost", even incorporating in talks those terms of "look what they took away from you".

Speaking of general "vibe", we are in-between on terms of: Dark Academia, sometimes Bastardcore - Mallgoth. Also might vary between Utopian scholastic, and/or cassette futurism (and others).

...Much of the aesthetic is characterized by nostalgia for an idealized past, often seen as "more wholesome" than modern American culture and style... - From Americana article

Talking of Hauntology - PNL can make us look over for "what went wrong/what could be//get better", this is, speaking figuratively. Human imagination, in these forms, presents to us, "what could have been's" - world envisioned: in 10, 50, 100, 500 years. Many projects and arts envisioned our "future"s, now long-gone (1800s, 1900s, 1950s-1980s ~ y2k).

Idealised future (now past) can consist of: Topics: pro-freedom hackers (free info, knowledge, source-code), cyberpunk ("its all just 0s and 1s, man... what is so special, what need protection, man; chill..."), "long bloom", "promised 80s neverland", (Once upon a time-space - Barrille) futures; human-library-utopic, free world, calm, pre-9/11 dreams (y2k), new ways-opportunities-progress, tech = (as) saviour, "gay space free commie", unity-community-mutual help-understanding, econ. boom, "kids are alright"/no real deal, small media-only, man vs himself/bad habits (spooks?), theories of mind and research (everything is relative > no meaning, or value > nihilism); slow steady steps, new school(s) of thought, "kids = (are) future", "we build this city"/people-first, man-gov collab. ~mutual help/or, liberation (from "spooks")...

#old web #webcore #early internet #revival attempt #pipeline

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thefestival · 5 months

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The Festival - Developer Log 2, 1/03/2024

Hello! It’s been an eventful two months since I last checked in, but I am happy to say that I have made an incredible amount of progress.

As I mentioned in the last devlog, I had two major milestones I needed to complete by the end of the Fall 2023 semester. Those were the script for the game’s pilot quest (codenamed “Hemmingward”), and the second was a prototype environment of the titular festival fairgrounds (pictured above). Today, I will go into more detail on both of these.

Hemmingward

In pursuit of a secret recipe, Nishma is roped into solving a decade-old mystery, and putting a village’s trauma to rest.

This quest starts with Nishma and Gil entering the titular village of Hemmingward, an isolated hamlet tucked away in the woods. Nishma wants to learn the secrets behind their fabled Mandrake Meat, a vegetarian meat-like dish that is incredibly difficult to produce. However, the duo run into a foreign businessman, Helvan Dynicus, who is trying to buy the recipe off the villagers for himself – without much success. Once Nishma and Gil get to talk with the village elders themselves, they learn that the villagers suspect this businessman is actually a former government officer who rounded up all the village men for conscription some fifteen years ago. The elders – Margot, Camaltha, and Eurydice - ask Nishma to confirm their suspicions, and the player can choose to accept or refuse this quest.

I first started work on this quest in early April 2023, beginning a preliminary script in the form of a Twine game in May. However, despite my early progress, I wound up getting bogged down trying to write tons of branching dialogue. I was biting off more than I could chew, and it wasn’t until the beginning of last December that I finally finished a first draft for the quest. Even then, the first third of this quest underwent no less than three rewrites, and the draft sits at roughly 80 pages of dialogue. Writing this first draft was a messy process, but I finally got it done.

With this completed, I can move on to translating the script into a real playable demo. That’s going to be the overarching goal for Spring 2024, and I’ll unpack more of what that entails in a minute. But first, I want to talk about my second milestone.

The Festival Fairgrounds

I made the above image as my final for a class on creating environments in Unreal Engine 5. While I originally conceived of this project as a means of creating an image that could be used for the poster for the game, the assignment guidelines stated that the end result must be explorable by a player. For that reason, I took a shot at fleshing out what the titular festival would look like.

In my vision for the game, the fairgrounds would serve as the last level of the game, where the player’s choices on how to organize the festival would come to fruition, and Nishma would have to run around and complete a series of miniquests centered on keeping the festival running as things get hectic. Most of the chaos will be based on the regular hustle and bustle of your average festival, though some events may be dependent on choices the player made before.

I produced a litany of 3D models for this scene, from the colorful tents to the stone walls to the cathedral in the distance, all the way to the junk that litters the ground. What’s more, I was able to incorporate an asset pack for a dialogue system I got off the Unreal Marketplace (The Defender: Animated Dialogue System Pack by Game Dev Voyager), and even animate Nishma so that a player can navigate the environment as her. You can view a demo of Nishma wandering the scene below:

youtube

This took a lot of work the past two months along with the script for the Hemmingward quest, but I am damn proud of the work I put into both. This new year comes with many challenges to overcome, but I can rest a little easier knowing I finished the previous term strong with these two milestones.

Next Steps

For the Spring 2024 term, I will be translating the Hemmingward script into a fully playable quest. It will not have the fully branching dialogue I wanted for this iteration, but it will contain multiple endings as Nishma and the player must decide on a resolution for the villagers’ grievances.

For the beginning of the next semester, two things I need to have in hand are:

1.) a shopping list of every asset and mechanic I plan on incorporating into this demo quest, and

2.) a write-up of all the different characters involved.

For my next developer logs (dates TBD), I will post more about the game’s cast, starting with Nishma Mauranyan, along with the world she inhabits.

#the festival #the festival: eastoria #3d art #game design #game development #devlog #Youtube

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slightlyrebelliouswriter23 · 3 years

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Writing smut without cringing the whole time? How do you do it.

Writing Smut 101: Overcoming Smut Shame

CONTENT WARNING: NSFW RELATED CONTENT BELOW.

The short answer, nonnie, is: you don’t.

That is to say, writing smut is always kind of cringe—especially if you’re new to it, or simply “not in the mood” to write.

But rest assured, feeling embarrassed is completely natural. The trick is learning how to overcome the cringe when it does happen, instead of letting it deter you.

I’m going to break this up into a few sections: 1) Why you might be feeling this way, 2) How I, personally, combat the issue, and 3) Some more tips that might help you get the ball rolling.

1. Why You “Cringe”

It’s important to find the root cause of any form of writer’s block so you can pull the weed out instead of just trimming it back. Smut writer’s block is its own special brand, and generally, the main issue writers have when it comes to smut is stigma.

Speaking openly and honestly about sex, in Western society, is still very much a taboo.

No matter how “progressive” we like to think we are, the inherent shame surrounding pleasure-seeking experiences, and the detailing/consumption of them, has been ground into us since we learned how to understand the concept of gratification.

And I’m not just talking about sexual gratification. This applies to everyday things, as well. Eating, shopping, relaxing (or doing virtually anything in capitalist society that does not directly contribute to capitalism).

So it makes sense that you would feel any amount of embarrassment, awkwardness, or “cringe” when writing smut. It’s something our society teaches us is wrong to want. Unfortunately, that shame translates to writer’s block when we sit down in front of the computer.

A lot of this blockage might stem from not giving ourselves permission to write the thing.

We’re staring at the blank document, knowing we want to write smut, and suddenly the thoughts start streaming in: This feels wrong, is this wrong? What if someone comes in and looks over my shoulder while I’m writing? Am I describing this right? Is this too unrealistic? I have NO idea what I’m doing, and everyone is going to know it.

These are all perfectly normal thoughts, and definitely ones I still have from time to time. But they’re also probably the direct cause of why you feel so blocked. Luckily, I have some bits of advice to give you on how to unblock yourself.

2. How I Combat Smut Block

✦ First, when the intrusive thoughts occur, instead of ruminating on them, think of each one as an impermanent object. You can use any metaphor, but I like to use the imagery of leaves:

Each negative thought is a leaf floating down the river of your mind. If you focus only on the leaf, you’ll exert a lot of energy running to try and keep up with it, consequently miss everything else around you. But if you acknowledge that leaf as a temporary part of the scenery, and let is pass, you can process and appreciate the beauty of your surroundings a whole lot better.

Remember: you are separate from your thoughts. You are not defined by them. The things you think sound stupid might be incredibly exciting to someone else.

If you can string a sentence together, you can write smut. This is all part of giving yourself permission to write the thing that makes you feel uncomfortable.

✦ Second, I’d suggest giving good thought to how you personally experience embarrassment, how you experience excitement (of the sexual variety), and how those two might sometimes commingle or feel similar.

For me, they are very comparable, like different shades of the same emotion—but there are differences which are important to note.

If I’m making myself blush from excitement, this is a very good thing for writing smut. It means that what I’m writing feels real enough to evoke something in the reader, even if the reader, like me, knows what’s going to happen.

If I’m making myself cringe, however, it may be time to take a step back and readjust my perspective.

✦ Third, ease yourself into it! Don’t jump straight in the deep end and expect to know how to keep your head above water if you’ve never swum before.

The way I eased myself into smut was first by writing “Steam”—a category of fic I made up because the current vocabulary lacked an efficient term for fics that straddled emotional romance and explicit content.

Essentially, steam is smut-adjacent but not explicit, and here’s a step-by-step example of how I transitioned myself smoothly from one genre to the next:

I first wrote my fics Wicked Game and You Are (both of which feature either a heavy make out session or teasing + lots of sexual tension) with this “steam” concept in mind.

I wrote the first chapter of Fine Line, which has brief but explicit descriptions of fantasies, framed by a very sexually charged scene.

I released my fic Crashing, which is probably more of a bridge between Steam and Smut, and features soft-focus fingering. Nothing in it is explicit—it focuses more on the emotions than explicit detail—but it’s very clear what is happening.

After I wrote those, I felt just confident enough to make that final stride over the threshold into smut. I wrote my fics Holy, King, and the second chapter of Fine Line all within weeks of each other.

And trust me when I say, once you get the momentum going and receive that validation from people who’ve read your work, it becomes SO much easier to sit down and start writing.

You just have to finish that first piece.

✦ Finally (and I know I’m going to sound cliche when I say this), just like any other skill, the more you practice the more confident you will feel and the better you will get.

So practice, practice, practice!

If you’re nervous about posting smut for the first time, have a trusted friend/mutual Beta read it for you. It’s the online equivalent to someone holding your hand before jumping off the cliff, and works wonders for the nerves.

3. Keep The Smut Rolling

Now that you have some tools to help get you past the blockage of writing smut, here’s how to keep the inspiration flowing.

✦ Start by incorporating smutty fanfiction/erotic fiction into your regular reading rotation-

Of course AO3 is a fantastic resource for smutty fanfiction.

If you’re a fan of TFOTA or ACOTAR and want some of my personal fic recs, visit my fic rec masterlist.

In terms of erotic fiction, my personal favourites are anything Anais Nin (specifically Henry & June and Delta of Venus), The Thornchapel series by Sierra Simone, The Godwicks series by Tiffany Reisz, and The Original Sinners series by Tiffany Reisz.

There are also sites like Literotica and sexstories.com, which play host to explicit short fiction (not fandom based).

✦ Next, I’d recommend having a designated digital space for smutspiration-

This can be a list of “smutty” words/phrases kept on a separate document on your computer, for those days when you just can’t think of the right way to describe something.

Or you can create a private side-blog or Pinterest board for your favourite smutty fanart or other kinds of visual smutspiration.

✦ For that matter, try following some smutty/18+ blogs (ONLY IF YOU’RE 18+) here on Tumblr-

Many of them have a plethora of what I like to call “lemony snippets”, a.k.a. short text posts that describe (usually in conversational language) explicit scenarios.

This is useful because it will normalise the concept of sexual fantasies in your brain, making it less weird for you when you try to come up with ones of your own to write into smut.

Not to mention, your dash will be rife with inspiration.

✦ I would also suggest checking out 18+ ASMR on YouTube (AGAIN, ONLY IF YOU’RE 18+).

My favourite account is Professor Cal Official, but Auralescent also has some good content.

Headphones are highly advisable for this, as their stuff is very dangerous for work.

So, nonnie, I hope this has provided you with at least one helpful tip. Whether you took anything away from this or not, just know that the feelings of embarrassment when it comes to writing smut are entirely normal. And the best way to keep those feelings at bay is to confront them head on.

-Em 🖤🗡

Writing Advice Masterlist

Writing Masterlist

2K Celebration!

#writing #writing advice #writing tips #smut #fanfic #writeblr #ao3 #writer things #em's 2k celebration #smut 101: overcoming smut shame #fluff #angst #writer's problems #asked and answered #em answers #nonnie #anonymous smut cringe

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kittehkwrites · 3 years

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Streets

“No Final Fantasy can we end these games though? ” - Doja Cat, ‘Streets’ (2019)

Summary: Trevante finally decides to say something, revealing to you how he feels and it leads to something the both of you only thought could happen in your dreams.

Warnings: Fluff, angst?, smut

Can be read as a stand alone, or as a continuation to Like I Want You

No backing down now. He thought.

I've been goin' through some things

I struggle with my inner man

“I have something that I have to get off my chest.” He said.

There was no hint of playfulness laced in his voice like usual.

No this was serious and it made you shiver.

Trevante couldn’t help but still get nervous around you and it took everything in him to not kiss you again.

The feeling of your soft lips gently caressing his back in shock but with such fluid motion and the current running between you both was something you wouldn’t mind feeling again.

Baby, we tried to fight it

We all been there some days

“ I like you. Ok? I’ve liked you since we started hanging out more and i got to know you more but

Thought I needed something else

And acted like I was okay

“But I always thought you weren’t interested in me like that cause you’d always call be your friend and yea there may have been a few times of playful flirtin but I figured that just how it’d be with us and i didnt want to say anything when you would talk to me about those assholes you’d go one dates with and clearly didn’t know how to treat you”

We just had to work it out

“If I knew this was how you’ve felt, or what you thought we could’ve saved us so much time and mindless pinding over the wrong people...”

You thought of all the times you went on those dead-end dates with guys that couldn’t hold a conversation to save their life or the ones that talked so much that it irritated you to no end and how you’d go to Tre and he’d be there. Waiting on you with open arms, hanging onto your every word and giving you advice.

That’s why you thought he didn’t feel the same. What man would be so selfless?

You wanted to leave and try to move on in hopes of protecting yourself when really you were causing more problems and you could’ve potentially caused him to lose interest..

And baby, I needed space

“I’m sorry for trying to basically avoid you at every cha-”

“It’s alright. I guess you wanted to protect yourself from disappoint like you’d normally be on the receiving end of, but i'm not them and I can definitely say that without a doubt, you’d be my queen and not second fiddle against the juvenile excuses some of those dicks told you back then.” He was right. He’d always treat you so nicely and you misread it as friendly behaviour when for him he didn’t want to run. He wanted to stay out of fear that someone would take you away or treat you in a way you didn’t deserve.

There was a bit of silence between the two of you.

You're pouring your heart out

“we are idiots aren't we?” You both laughed, breaking the silence and it made you both feel lighter knowing you’ve spoke your peace and to have the next person feel the same made you want to float above the clouds even more than you were now.

“I guess we are, but it makes it interesting.” He said, softly in your direction.

His smile was gracing his face and it made you melt to know that he felt the same and to know that he was there even when you tried to leave, made you feel so dumb to keeping your mouth closed about how you felt and you were sure your friends knew but wanted to leave you both to doing what you were doing incase they were wrong.

You held me so down

All those nights you’d go to him about those aint shit niggas that wasted your time...

So down I never grew

You didn’t see that as a sign of his attraction. Just as a sign of his friendly nature and you blamed it on your lack of healthy relationships before meeting this great man that you knew no one could compare to.

Yon knew that no one else could hold you down like he did.

I tried to find out

All those guys were nothing.

They meant nothing like the man sitting next you did in your whole time of having feelings for him but you wanted to make sure that it wasn’t you that was self-sabotaging these short term talking stages or relationships, if you can even call them that.

When none of them came through

But it wasn’t you. You thought, as you looked at his structured face, glancing over every little feature from his eyebrows to the hairs in his beard. They just weren’t him and you knew that now.

now I'm stuck in the middle

And baby had to pull me out Like you

That night brought on an onslaught of feelings and emotions but you both remained outside until your friends called it a night and he sobered up to drop you back to your place.

The ride was comfortably silent with fluttering glances and the soft music playing through the speakers made you feel safe and right about the future of this “friendship” between you two.

Like you

Over the next few days, you both facetimed, called, texted whatever way you could keep communication open, you both did it and it was like old times again, except you both knew the others feelings and it changed from “friendly” to him essentially courting you in a way you both hadn’t put an exact label on but you both knew it was exclusive and no one could break that apart.

After a few dates and some more group hangout, you both managed to agree on having a “sleepover”, but this time it wouldn’t be like normal ; no friends or interruptions, just the two of you and it made you nervous but excited for the days to hurry past.

The days indeed were passing quickly and you made sure to pack an extra set of clothes and some nice undergarments incase you got the chance to change into it, or you’d have another opportunity to wear it for him and you knew he’d appreciate it with the way he always compliments you and your body when given the chance and it made you even more sure that he was the one that was it for you as he didn’t comment on the weight but when you wouldn’t be noticeably be eating a lot around him because you were worried about your college work and submissions he’d subtly give you food during the shared study sessions you’d have with him and your other friends. Similarly, you’d make sure he was eating when he had finals or a sports event.

You guys felt that bonding and caring was leading towards the formation of something beautiful and stable.

When the day finally came, you told him you'd forget to mention the offsite visit you’d be taking to see an exhibit on african american and afro-caribbean art being held for the month

He was happy that you were happy.

The way you were gushing about the work you’d see and how the artists all incorporated the ideas of the diaspora, feeling lost but building some form of unity in their situations brought chills to you and the other students that accompanied the tour.

He loved seeing your pictures that you sent when you got there and when you got the chance, you’d take pictures with the artists and creators.

He knew you’d forget to text him when you reached back to the campus or if he’d need to come get you, to which you’d appreciate seeing as the others seemed to want to stay longer than you had hoped and others had already gone and you didn’t feel like getting in other people’s cars that you werent too close with.

Could you come for me in the next hour?

You asked and saw the three dots before his text came through.

Send your location.

That was his text to you and you weren’t about to lie and say you didn’t feel the little “flutters” as you pictured him laid up and thinking about you like you were him.

Location sent.

This is it. You thought.

No holding back. You convinced yourself, mentally as you continued moving around the exhibit to look at the other pieces you didn’t get the chance to yet when you guys were allowed to take a break as they were opening up some of the other areas for public viewing now

Closed mouths don’t get fed and you were hungry you argued as you saw his latest text that he was on his way, wondering where the time went but anticipating the activities you’d both get into.

You began to look around a few more times before making your way to the front of the building after saying your ‘bye’s, nice to meet you’s and see you later’s.

Leisurely walking to the front you stayed in the cool conditioned air of the building, awaiting the man that managed to continuously surprise you with his bold, straightforward nature.

Glad I brought my bag and waxed the other day so no worries about any fuzz being down there, if things went as you’d hope, you thought before opening the glass door seeing the next he was around the corner and then seeing him pull up to the front.

He pulled up to the front of the building as you made your way outside of the facility.

You watched as he got out of the 1973 Chevrolet Impala you would often watch him work on,

or he’d offer to take you in to go on those long drives that would make you think things once you saw him drive with one hand and his seat back.

Like you said, it made you think things.

He came over to you and walked you back in silence.

Damn papa, you a rare breed, no comparing

The cool air brushing over his exposed arms.

The wind carrying his scent that hit you as you slightly trailed behind him, before coming up to the car door and opening it for you while taking your bag and placing it in the back.

And it’s motherfuckin’ scary

He shut both doors and made his way round to the drivers side, getting in and buckling up himself before stealing a quick glance at you as you did the same.

“Ready.” The click of your seatbelt heard before your voice altered him.

He looked over at you, one hand on the gear stick, and the other on the wheel before racking his dark pupils over your shy-seated form. You saw as he but his plush bottom lip before his lips formed a smirk that made your thighs clench.

She better be ready. He thought as he knew that this shy act you had going on was only turning him on more and he wanted to hear that sweet voice of yours yell his name like he dreamed.

Y’all made it back to his and you were met with the warmness and enticing scents coming from within his space.

“I made your favourite.” He watched you walk in slowly, eyeing you again before waking in the light trail of your perfume and body lotion that left you smelling like candy and he wanted to have his dessert now.

You were so consumed with what he said and what he’d done that you hadn’t responded. He turned and looked to you as he made his way ahead when you stood frozen at what he had done for you when you thought no one would ever do such a thing.

Tryna keep him 'cause I found him

“Princess?” There goes that nickname that had you shivering slightly and gave him a chance to openly gaze into your beautiful eyes with a look of confusion at your silence in regards to food.

“Huh? Oh! No! that’s great. I was starving.” You expressed and progressed to his smaller dining room, still shocked at the set up of your favourite laid out and you knew it wasn’t order either because you’ve watched this man cook and always taste tested so you knew you weren’t about to be dissapointed.

“I told you to stop starving yourself. You need me to start bringing you lunches again?” He cared. The fact that this fine, tall, dark and handsome man was willing to come to you and bring you lunch still was getting you all warm, along with the delicious food that was hitting the spot.

This man is bout to get it, you thought before sitting and enjoying the food he prepared.

Both sitting under the dimmed lights and intimate atmosphere he managed to create with what he had, intensified your emotions and the glasses of wine you had with dinner got you to loosen up.

He didn’t want to force conversation. He was ok with just being in your presence and for that, you knew he was the one and you’d do anything to keep him happy and ‘Let a ho know I ain't motherfuckin' sharing’ (or whatever it is Doja Cat said.) You’d thought as he ushered you to his couch after collecting the plates and placing them in the sink before returning to you.

He saw you and couldn’t help but think about you being his. Like actually his.

I could take you to the parents, then to Paris

Plan a motherfuckin' wedding

Tonight i’m gonna make her mine and there’s no doubt about it.

He sat so close and for a second, you felt those shocks you felt the night he first kissed you when your legs touched.

You couldn't help but look at him and see the burning desire he had in his eyes. It was the same for him, seeing your deep pools looking at him with adoration and contemptment that he wanted to fall to his knees and beg for your love, even though he could guess you loved him the way he did you.

You the type I wanna marry (Yeah) and keep you merry

I'll put the ring on when you ready

There was a split second.

Then clothes began to drop around your retreating forms, leading to his room.

The kisses were hard and passion filled. Hands grasping body parts.

Hot skin against hot skin.

The soft glow of the candle he’d lit in his room providing him with enough light to tell that you were ok with this but he still had to make sure

“You sure about this babygirl? Cause once we start...I don’t know if i’ll be able to stop.” He voice dropped many octaves and resonated deep in your soul to the point of setting off a gush between your legs that had you mindlessly nodding your head at the man.

“Words Princess.” He gripped your chin and kept that intense eye contact.

“Yes sir.” The name set off something in him and he had you flung across his mattress, head between your legs and hands gripping your thighs while he kept his eyes on your face contorting in pleasure.

We play our fantasies out in real life ways and

No Final Fantasy, can we end these games though?

He made you cum with a powerful orgasm but you knew he could do better and he knew that he was just warming you up for one of the best nights of your life...besides marrying him and having kids together.

THAT’S how sure of himself he was that he’d ruin you for anyone else.

Could you blame him tho? He finally has you how he’s been dreaming about and he isn’t gonna hold back in let you know how much you mean to him. He’s gonna make sure you feel his love for you like he’s been saying.

You give me energy, make me feel lightweight (Woo)

He saw you come down enough to get on your knees, staring into his face like he was yours.

You saw your essence glistening in his facial hair, the moonlight that made its way in and added to the soft glow of the candle made him look like a beautiful shade of blue and near obsidian black.

Your hands making their way up his sculpted arms, joining at the chest and making their way down his sculpted torso, leading to his happy trail and the prominent tent in his jeans that you couldn’t help but rub your palm against.

“No teasing, Princess.” His voice snapped you out of your day dream of the erect member laying between his thick thighs, encased by the light washed jeans.

You looked up at him through innocent eyes and you swear you saw his pupils dilate even more, overtaken by lust as he brought his hand up your stomach, corse palms over your delicate skin and thick fingers wrapping around your neck for a tight squeeze before he gently pushed you back onto the bed once he saw you close those pretty eyes and bit your lip at the action.

Like the birds of a feather, baby

He pulled you closer to the edge of the bed before he started to remove his denim bottoms. Eyes never leaving yours as he pushed his jeans down his muscular legs, taking his boxers off at the same time before standing at attention once kicking them off.

You couldn’t help but look down at the one-eyed monster between his legs and he took notice at the way you looked at him.

He gripped the base of it before calmly saying “Don’t worry baby. You’re a big girl and I know you can take it.” His hand pumping slowly at the look in your eyes and the wetness between your legs.

He grabbed a condom from the nightstand, rolling it over his tip causing you to let out a whine at not being able to feel his girth in your mouth.

“Don’t worry Princess, you can have a taste later. Right not i want to feel that sweet pussy gripping this fat dick, that alright?” He said a soft voice but it was gruff that it had you getting slick even more at the dominance he had in that moment and the way he put receiving on the backburner.

You just nodded you head and he got close to you to rub his tip between your folds, lubricating the condom with what you supplied. It was a sight for him that he had to think of anything besides busting in the condom then and there.

We real life made for each other

He made you look at him before pushing into your wet valley. He took his time as you relaxed and felt every hot inch insert itself so deliciously slow.

And it's hard to keep my cool

You weren’t going to lie and say you didn’t like the gentle strokes he was giving to let you adjust, however you knew he wanted to go faster and harder if he was as sexually frustrated as you were from subpar partners.

Cause you’re a one in a million

There ain't no man like you

It was like he was reading your mind.

After he noticed you moving your bottom half off the bed to meet his strokes, he grabbed your legs, placing them over your shoulder, not missing a beat and going deeper into your depths.

“Oh shit tre!” He had to let out a breathy chuckle before he felt you grip his dick with your tight walls. That caused his body to jerk even deeper before he could process it and had him releasing a deep grunt you don’t think you’ve ever heard from him before.

“Shit Princess. Got this tight pussy grippin me like this? Who said you could do that?” He was gonna make sure you knew who was incharge in the bed room but you had a surprise for him when you were able to catch him off with the slip of a whispered ‘daddy!’ that made his hips stutter and him lose focus.

You were able to get him on his back, his large member not slipping from your clenching muscles and managed to start grinding on the massive amount of muscle lying beneath you.

“I did. Nigga” You went in after that.

Trevante watched in awe at the way you were taking him, knowing this position meant you’d definitely feel him in your gut if you sat completely over his pulsing, thick pole.

You planted your feet on either side of his hips, hands moving through the wisps of hair sprayed across his chest and switched the pace of your movements.

Up. Down and grind then up again.

He wasn’t going to lie and say that you were riding him like the perfect woman, like he’d always imagine after hearing about the way a woman could trap a man with good sex, he finally believed it with you over him.

That intense i contact was adding to the pleasure for you both and he couldn’t help himself. He brought his hand down on your ass quick and hard before gripping the round flesh in his hands and picking you up to lay back on the bed again before he started to pound into you faster once he saw your eyes rolling back and felt your pussy clenching him even harder.

“You gonna cum on this dick babygirl? Huh?! Answer me and take it like a big girl!”

all you could do was nod your head and repeatedly chant “Yes Yes Yes Yes” even after he finished speaking to you.

You layed under him a blubbering mess but wanting to prove to him you weren’t a punk.

“Cum on this dick Princess. I want to feel that pretty pussy cum all over this -fUCK! THAT’S RIGHT!-yea cum on this dick! Make it yours bitch!”

That word did something for you.

“I’M CUMMING.”

“Then cum bitch.” He whispered into your ear and it ignited the spasms and feeling of pure bliss of release.

He watched you convulse under him and he felt his sack tighten at the way your face looked that he couldn’t take his eyes off yours even for a second.

“Look at me bitch! I said look at me!” He gripped your cheeks between his large hand and got you to face him, seeing your dazed state and then he recognized you were going to cum again.

“You gonna cum again? You like this? Huh?” He waited and raised his leg onto the bed, bending it and forcing your legs to go wider by taking them from around his hips.

He had you so confused in this position.

You didn’t know if you wanted to run or stay there but you knew it had you cumming closer. Then you felt a smack to the face.

“I asked you a question! Answer me!” His loud voice, deep and all baritone like bounced off the walls at his command.

“Yeees I’M CUMMING!” You responded, equally loud you were sure the neighbours would hear but they should mind the business that pays them you thought.

You were getting the pounding of your life and didn’t want to have to stop because of nosey people calling security to check on the unit.

If they didn’t know what was going on, then that’s tough. But you were gonna make sure you got railed well tonight.

He didn’t know what came over him but he had to say it

“You love this dick baby? You love how I feel inside you?” His voice was still deep but that roughness made you tingle and he felt the flutter of your walls over him

“Yes!” You squeaked out.

“FUCK! I feel that pussy gripping me even tighter!”

He looked at you and you managed to pry your eyes open and stare into his as he said what he felt was right in that moment.

“You wanna be my girl? Huh?” His eyes still held list in them, but there was a softness as he slowed down to ask this, coming closer to you to pepper kisses over your face and embrace you.

“Yes!” You loved the way he felt but you wanted him to go harder so when you pleaded “Harder Tre! Please? I need you to go harder” He fixed his position and granted you your wish by pounding into you harder and faster, his gentle thrusts out the window and your ecstasy written all over your face.

You tried pushing his hips away but he smacked your hands away, grabbing both wrists and coming to you closer and to your ear.

“You gonna cum when I tell you to? You gonna be a good girl for me?” He watched you in pleasure of maintaining his composure and not cumming the first minute he sunk into your velvety pussy that he couldn’t even manage would feel so heavenly as it does now.

“Yes” You sounded so pathetic and it turned you on more than you thought possible at being so dominated but the big heap of dark, thick hefty muscle plowing into you made you feel safe even with his belittling of you but you knew it was only for the sex.

“Yeah? My girl huh? You’re so pretty under me.” He whined. It was so beautiful to hear so loud into your ear in the close position he was in.

This close proximity made you feel so connected and had you tearing up a little at the fact you knew he was still being gentle with you and it brought you closer.

Trevante looked down at you and saw the cloudy look in your eyes. He knew you were cumming again and he was right there with you so he let you go and pushed one of his hands between your sweaty bodies, finding your clit and stimulating you double time to climax together.

He saw your eyes rolling back when he felt that tightness in his sack before he shouted out to you,

“CUM! CUM ON THIS DICK!” He roared out to you.

It was a rush you hadn’t been prepared for as he managed to get faster but his rhythm started to become irregular. He still managed to hit that deep spot in you that had you going crazy when his tip would rub over it and all that could be heard was you both climaxing then heavy breathing.

He continued to grind into you slowly, careful that it may hurt you but he wanted to ride out the best orgasm he’s had in awhile, and knowing that it was with you made him want to keep his dick deep in you.

If it wasn’t for the condom, he’s sure he would’ve gotten you pregnant and totally stepped up to the plate to take care of you and his seed.

Like you

He couldn’t believe that you were here, in this moment with him and he had to make sure you know that you were all he could ever want and more.

He raised up and you whimpered at the loss of warmth he provided and the way his body calmed you down after such a session.

“None of that.” He said, leaning back down to place a gentle kiss to you lips “I’ll be back Princess” and then slowly pulling out of you to tie the condom and through it away.

You couldn't help but watch his retreating form go into the bathroom and come back with a damp rag to wipe you up and then leave the room to get you some water and lay back in the bed with you next to him.

You both stared at eachother once he got back in the bed and you managed to fix yourself in a comfortable position, not caring about the sweat or the way you may look like a mad woman.

Instead, you brought your hand up to his cheek and watched as he closed his eyes before puckering his lips, leaning to you for a kiss that you happily gave him and he pulled you to lay on his chest.

He thought you had fallen asleep as you hadn’t moved in a while and knew he had to catch some sleep to if he wanted to get up early and make you something for breakfast.

He planted a soft kiss onto your forehead, gripping you tighter and released a content sigh.

I found it hard to find someone like you

He wasn’t going to let you go and for a moment he thought he heard you say something but he passed it off as fatigue from the intense session the both of you just carried out after months of sexual frustration and tension.

Trevante didn’t know that you were still awake and said that you loved him

I can't be without you

You knew you weren’t gonna run anymore and he was it. Your one in a milllion and you would do everything to keep him, like he would you.

He held you tighter before finally closing his eyes, a small smile on his face.

And I can't be without you

He hadn’t heard you say you loved him...

but that’s neither here nor there.

You’d be alright with saying it again when you both were awake and not high off sexual energy.

Like you.

Taglist:

@killmonger-fics

@browngirldominion

(Dm to be added to the permanent taglist or let me know which actors/characters you’d want me to tag you in when I write)

——————————————————————————

Hey y’all!

Sorry this took so long🥴 Been busy with uni and some other personal stuff so I put this off longer than intended🥴

But what’d you think, hope this met the standards and was worth it?

Don’t forget to like, reblog and/or comment 😊

Hope you’re staying safe, checking in on your friends and loved ones and taking time for yourself :)))

Love you all and thanks for the support.

-K💜

#kittehkwrites #trevante rhodes #trevante rhodes x reader #black!reader #black!oc #lyric prompts #imagine #trevante rhodes smut #trevante rhodes fluff #friends to lovers trope

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eyrieofsynapses · 3 years

Text

Alright, YJ peeps, listen up, because I’m sick and tired of seeing constant criticism lobbed at YJ for making Wally slower than his comic canon version, Barry and Bart. There’s a very good reason to do this—and it’s completely in Wally’s favor.

Let me preface this by saying that I sincerely love Wally’s comics. I am one hundred percent on board that Wally deserves to be recognized for the badass he is. His 90s comics established the most important elements of the Flash today. We wouldn’t have the Speedforce if it weren’t for him! It’s been defining the Flash for decades! He gets the short stick over and over. It only rubs salt in the wound that people believe Barry’s faster when it’s been stated repeatedly that Wally’s the fastest person in the DC universe. (There are few faster ways to piss me off than to say Barry’s a better Flash than Wally.)

But. But. YJ was incredibly clever when they made him slower. Why? Wally has to be more creative than Barry because he’s slower, showing his intelligence and building him up to be a better Flash. Don’t believe me? Take a close look at Bloodlines.

Barry and Impulse figure out how to foil Neutron’s first blast of energy on their own. But it’s Wally who figures out that Neutron’s about to release an even more deadly wave with the help of his goggles, which Barry immediately borrows. Wally hand-made his goggles to compensate for his lack of speed. He wouldn’t have had them if he were as fast as the other two. Nobody would’ve realized how much danger they were in, and everyone would have died.

While comic!Wally is definitely smart, he’s so powerful that as the Flash, he can often solve problems just with sheer power. He doesn’t have to be super clever about it most of the time. In YJ, this is true of both Barry and Bart. They can be clever, but they’re heavily reliant on their powers. YJ!Wally has to compensate for lack of power with intelligence. He diversifies his skillset, using a mixture of science, strategy, and superpowers to solve problems instead of relying on sheer force.

Wally isn’t just slower; he also can’t control his momentum. Barry and Bart can dissipate kinetic energy at will, while he has to find ways to get rid of it. But he turns it to his advantage.

Pay attention to how he fights. You’ll notice he often cannonballs into people and uses acrobatics instead of flat-out running. He can’t bombard someone with a rain of blows the same way, so he dodges and avoids close combat.

There’s a lot more to that, but in a nutshell: Wally’s fighting style is significantly more complex than Barry’s. I’m not saying Barry never uses those skills, but I can’t remember any time we saw him do it. Wally learned to do that on his own, and he figured out how to incorporate other people’s fighting styles into his repertoire. Remember the acrobatics? Who wants to bet he picked that up from Dick?

Which brings me to my next point: Wally works better with the Team not just because he grew up with them, but because he has to cooperate with others to make the best of his skills. Wally can’t just blaze through things. He has to conserve his energy and make the best of his speed. In the Team, they have to piece together where he’ll be the most effective. It forces him to stop and consider what he’s doing and how it’ll impact the overall picture, taming his impulsive behavior.

Think about his attitude in the pilot. He races on ahead, alerting the enemy to their presence and nearly getting himself killed. Over the course of the season, he learns stealth and patience, which we see repeatedly demonstrated in the last few episodes.

Back to Bloodlines for a moment. When Wally, Barry, and Bart initially show up to the disaster scene, Barry runs headlong into the danger. Bart follows him. Wally, however, stops to talk to the police captain and gather information about the situation. Barry and Bart join them afterward. They proceed to speed-talk at each other, coming up with a plan… and then instead of explaining it to Wally, they just tell him to follow their lead.

Barry and Bart were impulsive while he stopped to think. Wally was a better team player: the other two didn’t include him in their planning, thus missing crucial details and potentially putting him in danger.

Their plan works in the short-term. But when they think they’ve solved it, Wally takes a second look, analyzing the situation and double-checking that they’re finished. If they stopped ahead of time and took a moment to consider what was happening, they might’ve noticed the energy problem sooner and come up with a better solution.

Worst of all, Barry rushes in again to pull Neutron out the second time. He only survives because of Bart. Yes, it’s because they’re short on time, but again: this might’ve been prevented sooner if they thought things through.

What does it say that Wally patiently paid attention to detail and was more thoughtful than his experienced mentor?

Yes, some of this is stuff he might have learned with advanced speed. But would he really have to be so thoughtful about how he uses his abilities? Not likely.

Nor would he have incorporated science and gear into his skillset. Among other things, he knows how to make an EMP and recognizes where to apply it in Homefront. Dick’s their tech whiz, but Wally comes up with technological and scientific solutions that he can’t.

But Wally doesn’t only use science and technology in ways his uncle and cousin can’t or won’t. He thinks differently about problems.

In Bloodlines, Barry and Bart assume the coast is clear after they take down Neutron the first time. They only consider things within the vast range of their powers, assuming that covers everything. Wally thinks about what they can’t see. He’s more limited, so he’s learned to take every piece of a situation into account.

Basically: Wally is much more flexible than his faster counterparts. He adapts far better to adverse situations because he’s forced to make small-scale accommodations on a daily basis. Because of that, he’s able to come up with better solutions, work better in a team, and solve problems without his powers.

And may I remind all of you: YJ Wally GAVE HIMSELF HIS POWERS, but his comic version got them without effort! The Speedforce bestowed them on him without his involvement!

People, YJ!Wally is a goddamn genius prodigy. We forget it sometimes because of his early-on immaturity and his jokes, but seriously, Wally’s far and away one of the smartest people in the YJ universe. YJ Wally is a distinctively unique Flash character because of his wit and intelligence!

But guess what? Guess what the real cherry on top is? If they bring Wally back in the fourth season at a full speed, he’ll be the fastest and the wisest Flash. He’ll know how to apply his new powers in ways that the others would never think of. Because he’s spent so much time applying science to his abilities, he’ll know how to use his new powers in sync with it, whereas Bart and Barry won’t think on those levels.

Best of all, Wally’s the best team player. He’ll be incredible with both the original Team and anyone else he has to work with.

Think about it. A full-speed Flash with Wally’s technological brilliance, intelligence, observance, and teamwork skills? He’ll be unstoppable.

So please shut up about how YJ did Wally dirty. It’s a thousand times more interesting to watch him work out how to solve a problem rather than just solve it in a snap with his powers. If anything, YJ improved his character and made him better.

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karajaynetoday · 3 years

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i'll be honest, it's better off this way | luke hemmings

image credit

hello pals! long time no writing! i know it seems a bit weird to post a luke break up fic just after he got engaged but to be fair, I already had this in the works before the news broke yesterday, so soz not soz. It is kind of a happy break up story though... kind of? this one features lyrics from our song by niall and anne marie that are in italics throughout the piece (you know i love a song lyric incorporation lol) and i’m a bit rusty, so any feedback is welcome! a big shoutout to my dearest @notinthesameguey for beta-reading this one for me, you’re a gem blanca! enjoy xo

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: mentions of a break up and a car accident/hospitalisation (minor/non-graphic)

(This is a fem reader insert)

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

I'll be honest, I'm alright with me

Sunday mornings, in my own bedsheets

The break up with Luke had been easier than you’d first thought. It’d been months of growing apart, feeling like a stranger in your own home, before you finally worked up the nerve to utter those four words: We need to talk. He’d been spending most days and some nights in the studio, and you’d been working overtime at your job too; you were ships in the night who barely had time to say hello and goodbye, let alone have any sort of proper conversation. You’d spent an entire evening rehearsing a script in your head, and as soon as Luke walked through the door and greeted Petunia, you mustered the courage to stand up and speak your truth.

It turned out that you weren’t alone in feeling stagnant in your relationship, and although you could feel your heart breaking as you said the words, Luke’s hand on your knee was all the gentle reassurance you needed. Just like always, even when your relationship was falling apart, Luke was there for you. And that’s what he promised, that night in the living room. It didn’t make sense for you two to become strangers overnight after 3 years together, but you also both knew that you needed space to grow and heal, and that space needed to happen sooner rather than later.

You could tell that part of Luke wanted to fight it, wanted to raise his voice, wanted to convince you to stay. But part of Luke also knew that it was time to walk away, no matter how much his heart was feeling like it was being ripped out of his chest, because he did truly love you, and if he loved you, he’d let you go.

Even though Luke insisted you could stay in the spare room for as long as you liked, it only took a week or so to find a new place. An apartment in KayKay’s building opened up for rent, and thanks to her help, you secured the lease and started moving in as soon as you could. Ashton accompanied you to Ikea and then helped with assembling a new bed and dining table for you, while KayKay helped unpack some of your boxes. You could tell that they were trying to be sensitive, but at the same time were desperate to know what went down in the break up, and after a few slices of pizza and half a bottle of wine, you felt the emotions rushing to the surface.

“It feels dumb to get upset, after all, I was the one who suggested we should break up.” You sniffled, smiling sadly as Ashton handed you a tissue.

“Just because it was something that needed to happen, doesn’t mean you can’t be sad about it. You two shared a lot in the time you were together, it’s only natural that it’s going to take you a while to untangle yourselves from one another and to get your head and heart back on the path that’s right for you.” KayKay spoke softly, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

You knew she was right, and the healing would come; it was all part of the rollercoaster of walking away from someone you thought was the love of your life, but had turned out not to be. Time to adjust and find some independence, and re-shape the life you found yourself in until it was the life you wanted.

But every time I think that I can get you out my head, you never, ever let me forget

Once you’d completely moved out Luke’s house, your reasons to contact him became few and far between. A few occasional texts to advise that he’d let his family know about your split, and a link to a new cafe nearby that he thought was your kind of vibe (and it absolutely was). Everyone in your friendship group was trying their best to help you both cope, but it was hard to avoid the awkwardness that came with a break up of close friends.

You felt like you were walking on eggshells for a while, so you started to say no to invitations out. You threw yourself into a new work project, and barely replied to any group chats. Whenever your friends called, you had the perfect script rehearsed, about how you were going to be up for promotion, and after the next month or so, you’d have plenty more time for catching up with everyone. You were fairly certain that no-one believed your story, but you were sticking to it nonetheless. You’d seen photos online of Luke out and about with various beautiful women amongst the partying crew, and even though you knew better than to torture yourself with doom-scrolling through the internet, you couldn’t help yourself. You had to keep reminding yourself that it was YOU that wanted the breakup, and that it was for the best. Or something like that.

It was coming to the end of your big project, and the entire office decided to head out for celebratory drinks. You only stayed for a couple, because after a month of overtime you were ready for bed. Your boss took you aside to assure you that the promotion was yours and the new contract would be on your desk on Monday, and as you reassured him you were excited to take on the role, a song playing over the bar’s speakers made you stop in your tracks. You’d spent many a Sunday morning dancing around the kitchen making pancakes with Luke and singing these words; something you’d completely forgotten until this moment. As you stepped outside to await your Uber, the first person you wanted to call with the news was Luke. Your fingers hovered over his name for a good few minutes before your Uber driver honked and broke you out of her trance, and you settled for texting the group chat instead to share your exciting update. Lots of confetti and heart eyes emojis started popping up alongside congratulatory messages, and you let out a giggle when you saw that Luke had sent a photo of Petunia with “congrats!” scrawled across it in purple font. It was the last thing you remembered, before the squealing of tyres and your vision going black.

Just when I think you're gone, Hear our song on the radio

Just like that, takes me back, To the places we used to go

The rhythmic beeping of the hospital monitors was the first thing you noticed as you stirred awake. The second was a dull pain across your skull, and the third was that your arm was in a sling. Fourth was the large, warm hand that was holding your own and gently squeezing; without opening your eyes, you knew it was Luke’s. You felt too weak to say any words, so instead you tried your best to squeeze back as you slowly opened your eyes. You heard a sharp intake of breath, before Luke’s smiling face came into view.

“Hey there, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” Luke asked, reaching up to gently brush some hair out of your eyes.

“Like I was in a car accident.” You managed to croak out, shooting him a wry smile and earning a laugh in return.

“You are correct, you can pass go, and collect $200. A pretty gnarly accident, the car’s a write-off, but thankfully everyone’s injuries are relatively minor. Some dickhead ran a red light.” You could tell Luke was trying to remain calm, but under the surface he was pissed.

“Not ideal, but at least I get a few days off work.” You joked, grimacing as you tried to sit up. Luke stood and gently maneuvered your pillows to support your back and shoulders better, and you felt a zap of electricity as his hands brushed your arms in passing.

As Luke sat back in the chair next to the bed, you suddenly realised that it was just the two of you in the hospital room.

“No offence, Hemmo, but what are you doing here? Considering we’re no longer significant others, and all…” You said awkwardly, looking down at your arm sling with sudden great interest.

“Very observant, dear. Glad to see the concussion hasn’t affected your short term memory, I was worried you’d forget me entirely. You did, however, forget to update your emergency contact details, so I guess I was first on the list for the hospital to call. Ash, KayKay and I have been taking shifts but they’re out getting food right now - “ The rest of Luke’s explanation was cut off by a gasp and a cheer at the door, signalling Ashton and KayKay’s return and subsequent delight at you being awake.

The days that followed were uncomfortable physically, but kind of heartwarming emotionally. You got home to your apartment thanks to KayKay’s assistance, and found that your friends had stocked your fridge and freezer full of ready-made meals and your favourite snacks. They’d also made a roster so not a day went by without someone popping in to check on you, although you noticed that Luke never came by.

Your recovery was slow but steady, and soon enough the doctors gave you the all clear. At this point, it was nearly 6 months since you’d broken up with Luke, and you could feel your mindset shifting. He was no longer the first person you wanted to call with good or bad news, or the first memories that popped into your head when you needed cheering up. It almost felt like… relief? Because for the longest time, even though you knew the break up was for the best, detaching yourself from one another seemed almost in possible after so many years of so many memories.

I've been waking up alone, I haven't thought of him for days

I'll be honest, It's better off this way

The tipping point came at Calum’s birthday party, a month or so later. Ashton had invited you out for coffee and nonchalantly mentioned that maybe, possibly, well actually extremely likely almost definitely Luke was bringing a date to the gathering at Cal’s house; a girl he’d been seeing for a month or so. Everyone wanted you to be comfortable, and everyone, Cal especially, wanted you to be there, but they also understood if you wanted to avoid any potential awkward encounters with Luke and his new love interest. You assured Ashton that it would be fine, that you honestly weren’t bothered, and laughed off his suggestion of setting you up with a super hot blind date to help level the playing field.

The night came along, and you found yourself stumbling along Calum’s front path in the dark as you tried not to drop the gift you’d bought for him (a new cookbook and a collection of various hot sauces). “Bloody 5sos and the “no good party starts until 11pm rule”, you muttered to yourself as you almost tripped over again, and you heard an indignant shout that sounded very Ashton-like behind you.

“Oi! Don’t be mad at us, you know that rule has never let us down!” Ashton bellowed, as he came forward with his phone flashlight switched on, KayKay not too far behind him.

“Damn girl, you like fiiiiiine!” KayKay said, letting out a low whistle. You rolled your eyes, knowing she was exaggerating. Your outfit was essentially a denim skirt and a t-shirt - maybe you’d sexed it up a little bit with some thigh high boots, tousled hair and a red lip, but all’s fair in love and war, right?

The three of you made it inside, and a very tipsy Calum greeted you with open arms and a lot of excitement at your gift of hot sauce. It felt so nice to be back with all your friends at a house party, like the old days, and you found yourself stepping out onto the back patio for a moment of quiet reflection and to share some pats with Duke.

You’d exchanged a wave with Luke when you’d entered the house, but hadn’t quite worked up the confidence to go up and speak to him, especially when he had his new girl in close proximity. She looked really friendly, though, and you could tell from the spark in both of their eyes that their relationship was blossoming in the best possible way. Part of you thought you’d be upset about it, but all you truly felt was content. Content in your life as it was, surrounded by friends that loved you just as much as you loved them, and actually quite proud of how far you’d come over the past year. You’d learned to stand on your own two feet, and you’d grown into a much more settled, independent human as a result.

You were lost in your train of thought when you heard the song change on the speakers inside. Duke’s ears perked up and he licked your hand attentively when you stopped patting him as the song registered - it was your song. Or at least, it used to be. You felt a smile creep onto your face when you remembered the Sunday mornings of pancakes and singalongs, and the smile grew wider when you saw Luke’s girlfriend dragging him onto the dancefloor, much to his (fake) protests. You made eye contact with your kind-hearted, softly-smiling, gentle-eyed ex-boyfriend, and for a split second you saw a flash of concern cross his face. In response, you raised your glass in a cheers and shot him a wink, which earned a smile and a small laugh from Luke before he turned his attention back to the beautiful girl in his arms. You took a sip, and smiled to yourself. It truly was better off this way.

When I hear it, I just can't stop smiling, I remember you're gone

Baby, it's just a song on the radio, That we used to know

Taglist: If there’s a line through your name, I couldn’t tag you, so please message me to let me know your new URL or what the go is! @suchalonelysunflower @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @loveroflrh @spicycal @notinthesameguey @metalandboybands @cheekysos @ashton-trash @another-lonely-heart @queenalienscherrypie @becihadshawn @allthestarsandthemoon @oyesmendes @andrianawinchester @333-xx @findingliam-o @hoodhoran @rbforsmileycal @myloverboyash @myhappylittleyoutubee @saywhatnow07 @secretsicanthideanymore @ar1analara @killmywildflower

#my writing #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings one shot #luke hemmings fan fiction #5sos one shot #5sos imagine #5sos fanfiction #lol how do i even write things anymore #i feel VERY rusty #but alas #hopefully it's okay #lmk what you think!

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

AU where the Nie clan has dragon blood in their lineage, and usually it just manifests as bad temper and a generally martial inclination. Except, once in a rare while, generations apart, an actual dragon will be born among them... (aka nobody really expected that NHS was the latest Nie dragon).

The Nie sect’s ancestors were butchers; that lowly heritage is well known and widely celebrated, much to the not-entirely-concealed disdain of some of the more refined, gentlemanly sects. Butchers at home and butchers at war – everyone knows that.

What’s rather less well known is that the third sect leader, colloquially known among his descendants as ‘that idiot’, rather heroically saved an imperial princess in battle and then – and this was why he was that idiot – married her. She was a proper princess, too, the true-born daughter of the emperor; other sects might see that as a good thing, since for all that cultivation sects saw themselves as being above petty things like the politics of the common folk, a princess was still a princess.

The Nie did not.

The reason for this was quite simple. What does a cultivation style that already incorporates an increased chance of death through anger most assuredly does not need?

The blood of the eight-clawed dragon, that’s what.

Arrogant, explosive, unruly –

It was a mess.

The sixth sect leader came up with the saber halls to honor his father and grandfather – most especially his grandfather, who’d had a bad tendency towards slit-pupiled eyes when he’d been especially enraged, and whose saber had absorbed every ounce of his ferocity – and the next few generations made a point of finding especially meek daughters or sons for their children to marry, and that was that; everyone hoped that that idiot’s mistake could be diluted out of existence.

It was, for the most part.

But every few generations, imperial blood ran true, and not only in terms of majesty or arrogance, and then the entire sect had to close its doors to the outside world and pretend with all their might that no, of course there wasn’t a rampaging beast of an especially draconic variety raging behind the extremely sturdy walls of the Unclean Realm, what nonsense that would be.

Still, if Lao Nie had to wager on one of his children being a dragon, he probably would have put money on it being his firstborn: already far too tall for his age, a brilliant prodigy with his saber, and a temper that rivaled some of the older members of the clan.

Certainly not Huaisang.

The only time that child hadn’t been a disappointment was when he was a baby: he’d been remarkably lazy even back then, sleeping more hours of the day than he didn’t even past infancy, and what had been a relief to his nursemaids quickly turned to annoyance by everyone else. It was commonly believed that such a weak and unlively child was likely to grow up to be slow-witted and dull, and, worse, the doctors confirmed his muscle tone was underdeveloped; even with a great deal of practice, he would likely always be a bit behind those his own age.

As he grew older, his penchant of sleeping twenty hours out of every day got even more noticeable, and the family largely lost interest.

Well, most of them. His older brother, who’d quietly taken on the responsibility for caring for Huaisang when no one else in the family had had the time or, truthfully, the interest in the disappointing son of an especially fortunate (unfortunate?) family maid-turned-concubine, indulged him far too much, even carrying him from place to place.

“You’re not a mule, Mingjue,” Lao Nie scolded one day, reinforcing the lesson through swipes of the flat of his saber. “Have some dignity! If Huaisang wants to go places, he can damn well walk there himself!”

Nie Mingjue bowed his head, obedient and filial in every way except for the fact that he didn’t listen; if anything, it got even worse from that point on, the boy barely being seen anywhere without a napping toddler as an accoutrement.

“Did you hear what I said?” Lao Nie roared at him.

“I’m not a mule,” Nie Mingjue recited. “If he wants to go places, he can walk there himself.”

“If you heard me and persisted regardless, you’re undisciplined,” Lao Nie said, arms crossed.

“I accept whatever punishment is appropriate,” Nie Mingjue said, and that was most irritating of all: why would his otherwise perfect eldest son insisted on being beaten once a week when all he had to do was leave that useless lump behind in his rooms, where he’d be happier anyway? It wasn’t as though Nie Huaisang even wanted to be outside: sometimes it seemed he’d only learned to talk in order to complain about how uncomfortable he was, how hot, how sweaty – and he even had the gall to keep complaining even after his older brother fetched a fan for him, like a loyal dog.

Discipline was paramount in the Nie sect; to be undisciplined is to risk being monstrous, and with their cultivation style they could not tolerate such a thing. That was why their punishments were so strict, even if the rules were relatively sparse - more principle than rule, really. But on the other hand, their family had always been the sort that would rather break than bend: if Nie Mingjue wanted to pay for his willfulness by accepting punishments, he was entitled to do so.

Still – there was punishment, and there was wanton cruelty; at some point, one of the men in the punishment hall abandoned the former for the latter. He was a popular man, the son of another sect’s diplomat that had married a close cousin of the main family and stayed in Qinghe; for some reason he’d developed an intense dislike of Nie Mingjue – a dislike which was mutual, and likely to cause trouble in the future when Nie MIngjue became Sect Leader, but which currently put Nie MIngjue in a very bad position given the man’s status as his elder.

Lao Nie only learned about the whole matter much later, and when he did he was so spitting mad he grabbed his saber and would have spitted the man on it, cousin or no cousin, if he hadn’t been held back; but at the time he had no idea, busy as he was defending the borders of his lands against troubles caused by that ever-smiling bastard Wen Ruohan.

When he did hear about it, though, he was infuriated: his son and heir had been beaten three times the usual amount, a compilation of a thousand little offenses that could only technically be termed breaches of discipline, forced to complete several dozen of their most demanding exercises, and then made to kneel outside on the hottest day of the year; to no one’s surprise, he had eventually collapsed rather than yield and beg for mercy, his skin cracking and lips starting to bleed as his consciousness left him.

He was after all a Nie.

Who knows how far that bastard might have gone, his eyes fixed on a prize he would never inherit with his outsider’s surname, if Nie Huaisang hadn’t been there, tucked away curled up underneath a shady tree and made to watch despite Nie Mingjue’s request that he be sent back to his rooms.

Those who were near enough to see – and Lao Nie had plans to punish the whole lot of them for not having interfered: what was the point of a clan motto that prioritized justice and suppression of evil no matter what the consequences if they would allow it to happen in their own damn home? – said that it didn’t happen at once, that there was a pause when Nie Mingjue’s body hit the ground; perhaps it was only that Nie Huaisang was slow to realized what was happening.

Perhaps it just took a while for the change to happen.

Either way, everyone agreed on what happened next: the unfurling of a serpentine body twice the length of a fully grown man, although only about as wide around as a goat, a red-eyed glare that was backed with teeth and claw, and a roar of challenge at anyone who even thought about pulling Nie Mingjue’s body away from the center of those coils.

Apparently Nie Huaisang had needed all that sleep because he was still growing. Who would have known?

It was the youngest full transformation they’d ever had in their clan by far. The boy hadn’t even reached the age of three!

“If he’s stopped sweating, he has heatstroke,” Lao Nie told his apparently not useless younger son, having been urgently summoned to the training field. “He needs to be taken inside at once; you’re only making things worse.”

Nie Huaisang bared his teeth at him, and Lao Nie bared his teeth right back.

He might not be a dragon, but his son’s blood had come from somewhere.

“I am your father,” he snarled. “You will listen to me and obey. You hear me? You will get off of him this instant. If he doesn’t get water soon, he will die.”

Lao Nie will never know if it was the demand for filial piety or the threat to Nie Mingjue’s life that got Nie Huaisang to comply – he suspected the latter – but Nie Huaisang gave in and backed off, allowing the clan’s medics to rush over and take Nie Mingjue away.

Lao Nie looked at the dragon, thinking to himself that the vastness of the underground caverns beneath the Unclean Realm weren’t for nothing: if this was what a two-year-old dragon looked like, he’d be a full-fledged calamity when full grown.

His saber itched in his palm at the thought, but he ignored it. The embarrassing yao-derived portion of their bloodline aside, the Nie sect set itself against evil, and Nie Huaisang was lazy, not evil.

“This is going to be trouble,” he finally said. “It can’t be allowed to get out.”

You can’t go out, he meant, but maybe Nie Huaisang in all his laziness wouldn’t mind being restricted to the Unclean Realm. Maybe, if they were lucky, they could teach him to like paintings and books instead, since he could never be allowed out to join a proper battlefield.

He’d be locked at home forever, unless the Sect Leader decided otherwise - and that meant Lao Nie would be the one responsible for it.

Ancestor or not, damn that idiot.

In the end, Nie Huaisang didn’t respond to him at all, merely took to the air – flying must be inherent, since he didn’t seem especially bothered by what should be something brand new – and headed inwards, aiming towards…

His brother’s bedroom.

Not really a surprise, that.

A bit of a surprise that he could find it so quickly, though, from such an unfamiliar angle…

Lao Nie’s eye twitched.

If his stubborn older son had known about this, he was going to wish he’d died of heatstroke.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #my fic #my fics #dragons #oneiriad #not my usual backstory for the Nie sect #but hey #gotta have those dragons #dragon nhs

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a-solitary-marshmallow · 3 years

Text

Rewind Chapter 9 - A Deal is Made

When Stan ran off, to Ford’s relief – he didn’t think he could handle any more of Bill’s cruelty towards his little brother – the demon didn’t chase after him. After his little display Bill turned to Ford with a wide, unnatural grin and lifted his arms like an actor bowing after a particularly brilliant performance.

“I do a wonderful Stanford impression, don’t I? It’s pretty easy. You’re like a broken record, Sixer, all repetitive and annoying. ‘My science project, my science project!’ But I really think I spiced it up a bit while still staying in character!”

Ford stabbed a finger at the demon wearing his skin. “You – how dare you?”

Bill merely shrugged and rifled through Ford’s pockets, letting out a little ‘ah’ of triumph when he pulled out a pocket knife. “Hah! I didn’t take you for the stabbing type.”

“It’s for self defense!” Ford fumed.

“Sure, sure, don’t wanna get eaten alive by monsters, excuses excuses.” Bill stepped back, sizing up a nearby tree. “I was looking for rope but this will work too.”

“Wait, what are you-”

Bill placed one hand against the tree’s bark and slammed the pocket knife into it, cutting through skin and flesh to bury the knife into hard wood. Ford hissed.

“That should do it!” Bill said cheerfully, watching blood drip down Ford’s wrist. “That looks like it’s gonna be a gusher, Sixer. I wouldn’t take the knife out if I were you. You never know, maybe you’ll bleed to death!”

Ford very deliberately kept his mouth shut about the placement of arteries in the human body. What Bill didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. And getting stabbed through the hand couldn’t hurt that much, could it?

He soon found out, once Bill zipped away and he lunged back into his own body, that it did indeed hurt. Ford bit down a scream and fought to keep his hand still. Every twitch and tremor sent pain racing down his arm and he was very aware of the metal piercing through his hand, sharp edge rubbing up against skin and muscle and nerves.

Ford grabbed the handle of the pocket knife with his free hand (pain pain pain) and wrenched it out. This time he couldn’t smother the scream that bubbled from his lips. He dropped the bloody knife and clutched at his bleeding hand.

Calm. Calm down. He couldn’t help anyone if he was panicking.

Ford fumbled around in his pockets until he found a handkerchief, wrapping it around the seeping wound and tying it tight with his teeth. It wasn’t a long-term solution but it would stop dirt getting under the skin, and hopefully slow the bloodflow. Though the fabric was already getting stained with red.

Move. He didn’t have time to waste, Bill could have caught up to Stan already. Who knew what the demon would do? Ford took off through the trees in the direction he had seen Stan run, every step sending a flash of burning pain up his arm.

By the time he caught up with his brother he was lightheaded, a yellow triangle swimming in his vision – Stan looked so small, so confused in the demon’s shadow. Ford would not fail his brother again.

“STAN!”

_______________________________________________________________

Ford was here. Stan’s gaze snapped up at his brother’s shout, the traitorous part of him whispering, ‘apologize, make him like you again’. He clenched his fists as Ford staggered into sight, looking kinda pale.

“Stan-” Ford caught a tree and clung to it as he struggled to regain his breath. He looked shaky, and Stan ached to go over and make sure he was alright. He took a few steps past the demon despite himself. “Stanley – listen to me, whatever Bill is telling you, it’s a lie-”

“Well well well well well!”

Stan was treated to the lovely sight of the skin on Bill’s back peeling open to reveal an eyeball, his body contorting and turning inside out until he was staring right at Ford with that neon yellow gaze.

“Just when I thought I’d taken care of you.”

Stan hesitated, the word striking a chord. “…taken care of? What does that mean?”

Bill drifted forward, placing himself in front of Stan but Ford looked right past the triangle, staring at Stan with desperation in his gaze. It made Stan’s stomach twist, made him feel guilty and angry and so very confused. He wrapped his arms around himself and backed away, Ford reaching after him.

“Stanley please. I’m sorry – I was stupid and cruel and I treated you badly because I was angry, but you didn’t deserve it. I saw what Bill said to you in my body and it’s not true, Stan, none of it’s true-”

“Shut up!” Stan stabbed a finger in Ford’s direction, glaring at him through tears. Ford didn’t even look scary anymore – just afraid, and that was the scariest thing. Adult Ford was supposed to be big and determined, he wasn’t supposed to be afraid. “Just – just shut up! I don’t even know what you’re saying!”

“Exactly!” Bill’s cheerful tone reverberated through the trees, making Stan shiver despite himself. “The man’s speaking nonsense, don’t listen to him.”

Stan wasn’t smart, but he wasn’t totally stupid either. He could see the ‘shut up’ glare the demon sent his brother. Bill was trying to be his friend, why was he hiding something from him?

Ford pushed himself off the tree to stand by himself, gaze still fixed on Stan. “The eyes, Stanley! What colour were my eyes, when I was saying those terrible things to you?”

“I dunno!” Stan yelled back.

What kind of stupid question was that? Stan didn’t want to think about that, he didn’t want to think about how he was a dead weight and a nuisance and how Ford was better off without him. But something – something about that encounter seemed off…

“Answer me, Stanley!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“What colour were my eyes?”

“Yellow!”

Wait.

Yellow?

“Please believe me.” Ford stepped closer, holding his hands out desperately. “Bill took over my body and he made me hurt you, more than I already have. He’s evil, he’s trying to take advantage of you and trick you into doing terrible things. And – I know you have no reason to believe me. I know I’ve treated you badly, since you arrive at Gravity Falls and before that. But please.”

Stan twisted his hands, anxiety swirling in his stomach and making him want to barf. He glanced up at the fuming demon.

“You’re all-powerful, right?”

“Stanley no-”

Bill’s body flashed lemon-yellow, his eye curling into a grin as he spun around to face Stan. “Sure I am kid! I can get you anything you want.”

“…anything I ask for? Anything at all?”

“You bet!”

“Stanley! He’s trying to trick you, he’s evil-”

“Oh shut it, Sixer!” Bill snapped his fingers and Ford’s body lurched sideways, sending him slamming into a tree with a yelp. He slumped to the grass. Stan dug his fingers into his palms. “See, kid? When you open the portal I’ll be even more powerful! Enough to give you anything you want.”

Stan looked between the prone body of his brother and the demon, and he made his decision. His hand reached out to snatch Bill’s.

“It’s a deal.”

Blue flames erupted across their joined hands, flicking over Stan’s skin but not burning, warm and tickly. Bill’s eye creased up in a grin.

“I knew you were the smart one! Now come on, name your price! Anything you want is yours, once you open the portal for me.”

Stan frowned, staring at their joined hands. The fire was the least weird thing about these last few days – it blazed warm and blue, spitting sparks every which way. Hypnotizing, almost. It was so much power – not his, of course – but flaming at his fingertips. He wanted it.

Bill released his hand, letting Stan’s drop down by his side. Stan stuffed them in his pockets, feeling the tingle of residual warmth against his skin.

“Well? I don’t have all day!” Bill heaved a sigh, folding his little stick arms. Stan’s mouth tasted sour. “What’s your price? A galaxy all of your own, right? Or a billion dollars?”

“…I want a hug.”

Silence reined in the clearing.

“Are you kidding me?” Bill’s eye hung open in disbelief. “I’m offering you your own galaxy and all you want is a flipping hug?”

Stan nodded. “Yep. And like you said, you gotta give it to me.” He opened his arms. “I want my hug now.”

Bill sighed in frustration. “I’m incorporeal, kid, I can’t give hugs. Why would I even want to touch a fleshbag like you in the first place?”

Stan put his hands on his hips. “You’re just gonna have to be corp-or-real. I know you can, you can touch and move things around! You gotta do the deal or the whole thing’s off, remember?” He scowled. “If I don’t get my hug you can’t use me to open the portal.”

“Ugh.” Bill’s form shimmered, becoming a little more corporeal – enough, at least, to interact with the physical world. The triangle’s ‘face’ screwed up. “Gross. Let’s get this over with already.”

He extended his stick-arms out with a grimace, and Stan flew in to hug him, wrapping tiny arms around the triangular body and squeezing tight. Bill let out a disgusted noise and patted his back awkwardly.

“There. There’s your hug.”

Stan pulled back enough to grin at him. “You give shit hugs.” Then he jammed the magic capsule into Bill’s huge eye.

The triangle-

Screamed.

There was an explosion of light and colour and searing heat that scorched across his face and Stan was flying back, breath knocked out of his lungs. He slammed into something and that something wrapped its arms around him and swung him away from the blast, shielding him with its body.

When Stan’s ears stopped ringing and the spots faded from his vision, the sight that met his eyes made him freeze.

Bill was dripping, fizzling like a dying candle, his eye seeping down his figure and body glitching red in places, showing glimpses of scarlet-colored bricks and bits of muscle and scenes played in sepia like they were being shown on an old TV. The demon lurched towards them, fingers curled into half-melted claws and body pulsing with its deep, distorted voice like an earthquake.

“STANLEY-”

There was the pop of a rifle being discharged and a hole blew open Bill’s body. Something crackled like broken glass, and then the demon

shattered.

#gravity falls #rewind #chapter 9 #the stans #oh gosh this is coming late #we're near the end now #chapters will be coming faster #rip my writing pace #hope you guys enjoy anyway

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unsaidmar · 3 years

Text

Call.

a/n: hello peeps! this is a request! thank you for liking what i write, it means the world to me. love y'all. requests still open.

wc: 1.5k hehe

warning: mentions of death, curse words, sad stuff.

pairing: spencer x bau! reader.

plot: For the first time, you’re not where he is. It drives you crazy.

--------------

You considered yourself quite the resilient person. Emotions got to you but never incapacitated you. Danger was a given in the career path you had chosen and the prospect of it was something you were used to, but never like this. It was always your own life you were worried about, but the BAU had taken the grasp you had on your job and your reality and completely redifined it.

Being guarded with your emotions and affections was a defense mechanism you had developed thanks to your experience in law enforcement. People always got hurt and you had to move on from it, that’s just how it was. But the BAU was the one to break the mold.

Those people had been through a lot together, the good, the bad and the ugly. They had seen it all and done it all, and now you were a part of it. They took you in and accepted you like you hadn’t just joined the team and you let them. Soon enough, Rossi was walling you “kid” and kissing both your cheeks when he greeted you, Morgan was fist bumping you when you made stupid jokes and you were going out to dinner with Emily, JJ and Penelope. Not one of them hesitated to put their life on the line with or for you, and it shook your world.

All of a sudden it wasn’t just yourself you had to worry about, because every person walking into burning buildings and hostage situations with you was your family. You loved every one of them and losing them scared you a lot, enough to feel like your heart was beating out of your chest whenever they were in danger.

And still, you had to go and fall in love.

Spencer had woven himself into your life, your routine, your work life and eventually your heart. It felt like he was marking his territory before he knew he was doing it, something resembling a person moving into your home, but the things he left behind were more than a toothbrush or a book. He left his mark in little things you incorporated into your life and it slowly transformed the both of you into a collage of each other.

He started drinking soy milk when you convinced him it was not bad and that subjecting himself to the pain of being lactose intolerant and still consuming milk, wasn’t worth it. You stopped leaving your windows open at night when he freaked you out about stray cats taking residence in your couch and potential burglars getting in. And those absolutely inconsequential things were forever going to be a gift you had given each other, no matter what came out of your relationship, even if you went your separate ways. Which, you never did.

Three years into working at the BAU, and two into your relationship with Spencer, you got married. The both of you figured that the wait was not necessary because you knew very early on that that was it, you were it. Next thing you knew, your fourth wedding anniversary was coming up, and so were many other things.

After getting kidnapped and shot, you were never the same. You had come to terms with dying, you wanted it to happen so you didn’t have to deal with the inevitable trauma that came with surviving, but you weren’t that lucky. Everyone had been worried about you and the living ghost look you were sporting. It looked like you were re living the situation in your head every moment you were awake, and that was indeed the case. It haunted you when you were sleeping and it consumed you when you were awake, so Hotch made you take a break.

Stubbornness was your thing, so he took away your badge any other form of ID that could get you into the building, he didn’t answer your calls and only texted your work cellphone to ask you to stop asking him to reinstate you. Being alone with your thoughts was hell. Having your family out there risking their lives without you was even worse.

“Hey Spence, it’s me again… um... could you let me know if you’ve been getting my texts? It’s just that… you never not text me back and I’m getting worried. Is that too much? I’m probably being ridiculous. Anyways, call me back. Or text. Just let me know you’re okay. I love you.” You sighed and put your phone down for what felt like the twentieth time in the last half hour.

This had never been the case. You were never the worried spouse that had to rely on phone calls or texts to communicate or to even know your husband was alive. It made you empathize with Will, with Haley. It made you want to ask them for advice on not going crazy. Your mind was already going rouge.

I can’t be a widow. I can’t mourn the love of my life, how does anyone? What happens if I lose him? How foolish of me to have dismissed this when we got married. We’re FBI agents, for the love of God. We point guns and have them pointed back at us for a living. I’ll have to take my ring off. Do I keep it? I can’t look at it if he’s gone. Who picks out the dress for the funeral? If I have to do it, I’ll go insane. I can’t bury him; I can’t go watch them lower him to the ground. I will just cremate him and split his ashes so his mom has him too. His mom. That woman won’t be able to bear outliving her baby. God, please pick up the fucking phone.

You: Honey, please text me back!!! Have someone text me for you, idc.

You: Spence, charge your phone.

You: Why is Derek not texting me back either?

You: Are you angry at me?

You: I’d rather you tell me if you’re angry. Don’t ghost me when you’re on a case.

You: Spencer.

You: I’m calling Penny.

Three rings it took for Penelope to answer.

“Hi my sweet, beautiful, ____. How can I be of assistance to you at this indecent hour of the morning/night?” She chirped, her tone already relaxing you. She would be the first to know if something had gone wrong.

“Hi Penny, do you have any word on the team? I keep calling and texting Spencer and he hasn’t gotten back to me. It’s been like three hours.” You said, holding back the tears.

“Oh, sweet stuff. Last I heard, they were delivering the profile. They’re in Kansas and there was a tornado warning. The power is out. Maybe all of their phones ran out of battery.” She tried to reassure you, like always, already knowing what was happening in your head. “Is everything okay? Have you slept?”

“Not really. Spence stopped replying and I got anxious.”

“Don’t worry hun, bad news travel fast.”

“Yeah, yeah… you’re right. I should…”

Before you could finish your sentence, the door creaked open and you saw a defeated looking Spencer hang his jacket and take his shoes off trying to be quiet, assuming you were asleep. You felt the color come back to your face and you dropped the phone on the couch without even making sure you had ended the call.

“Oh, thank God.” You ran to him and aggressively hugged him. Much to your embarrassment, the tears you were trying so hard to hold back were now streaming down your face.

“Hey, hey…” He took in your appearance and instantly worried about you. “What happened? Is everything okay?”

“What the fuck happened to your phone? And everyone else’s for that matter!” You said, letting go of him and raising your voice without meaning to. Spencer knew you never yelled, so he was taken aback by your words.

“It died, ___, four hours ago, the power went out and the generator wasn’t working. Why are you screaming?” He rushed out.

“Because you never texted me back and I thought you were dead!” Your voice was a lot calmer now, much more frustrated and tired.

“Honey, I’m so sorry, everything happened so fast, I didn’t even think about my phone. I didn’t mean to make you angry; I promise.”

“I’m not angry, baby. At least not at you. I hate being here and not out there with you. I can’t sit around and wait for you to give me proof of life. it’s driving me insane and it has only happened once.” You groaned, choking back quiet sobs now. “I can’t lose you. I can’t be the last to find out.” You fell to the couch like your legs had stopped working.

Your husband was looking at you like he didn’t even think about that, like the realization had just hit him. You couldn’t blame him, neither of you were used to that dynamic of checking your phones because the one person you would want to update was always along for the ride.

“Baby, you’re not going to lose me. I’m so sorry, I promise I’ll care more about my phone. I didn’t mean to worry you.” He said, crouching to be eye to eye with you and taking your hands.

“No, no..I’m sorry. I’m being ridiculous, I went crazy. You shouldn’t have to do that…” You kissed his knuckles and slid down the couch to sit on the floor with him. All you wanted was to be near him. You put your arms around his neck and whispered. “I love you, I’m sorry I yelled at you. I was losing it. I’m not used to this feeling of not knowing where you are or if you’re okay, I felt helpless.”

“It’s okay hun, I get it, I love you too. We’re both new to this whole being-a part thing. If I’m honest, I don’t like it.” He pulled you to his lap so you were tangled up like a koala.

“I hate it. It 's the worst. I’m done with this break”

“Hotch is just looking out for you, he wanted to give you your space after the accident. You can talk to him and see how he feels about you coming back.” His reassuring words were already lightening the mood, and you were grateful he was fine. Once the adrenaline died down, the sleep you had been missing hit you like a ton of bricks. You stifled a yawn and planted a kiss on Spencer’s forehead.

“You’re tired. Let’s go to sleep.” He took notice of your droopy eyelids and went to stand up. “Have you been awake all this time?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t just go to bed.” You replied, removing yourself from his lap and taking his hand.

“Come on, let’s crash. I’m off tomorrow, we don’t have to wake up early.”

Oh, thank the lord.

“I’ll go to sleep, but I have one condition.” You said with your best attempt at a mischievous grin.

“What is it?” Spencer asked, knowing that tone and that face all too well.

“Get a stupid portable charger.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid blurb #cm

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lucisfavoritedemon · 3 years

Text

Crossed Oceans of Time

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: Y/n always thought her hope was lost till an unexpected call from an old friend has her traveling across time to save the man she thought was once lost in an ocean of time.

Warnings: angst, fluffy fluff, cursing, hopelessness (idk why I make the reader so depressed)

Word Count: 4122

A/N: This is written for @sweeterthanthis Quote Me On It 6k Challenge. The prompt I chose was “I have crossed oceans of time to find you.” -Dracula. This story takes place during the events of End Game. I have incorporated the quote into the story. It will be bolded AND italicized. All mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!

Everything I had seen had been a blur up to this point. My life flashed by so quick I never had a chance to process it all. Originally born in 1922, I never believed I would be able to see the day when technology would thrive. Here I am in 2023, 101 years later seeing the miracle of technology.

I am a super soldier. One of the first experiments before Steve Rogers, aka Captain America. I volunteered myself to Dr. Erskine's experimentation, so he could develop a better, more safe serum.

I fought by Rogers' side in many battles, including the one that would take his best friend. There is something you do not know though, of me and Sergeant Barnes.

I had fallen for him. Not just a usual school girl crush, no. It was full blown love. Like my body had been struck by lightning the moment I laid eyes on him.

I could sit and talk for hours about Bucky, and how much he meant to me, but that would be pointless. Bucky was gone and yet I couldn't move on. Something was keeping my heart from finding love again.

Steve and I fought one last time together to defeat Red Skull. We thought it was the end for us, that we would be with Bucky again, but fate is a cruel mother thing. Oddly enough, the serum in our veins stopped our bodies from dying. It preserved us and helped us stay alive.

When I woke up, all I remembered was crashing the ship. I had no recollection of anything else after. That's when we found out we were in the year 2012. For 70 years we were on ice. Poor Steve was heartbroken about Peggy, and I couldn't help but wish I was with Bucky.

Time flew by like it was nothing, and all I felt I did was stand still and watch it go by. Steve and I had parted ways after we got back. I was hired to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. which I didn’t mind till in 2014 it all came crashing down. Almost quite literally. S.H.I.E.L.D. had HYDRA growing right under its nose. I was again left alone with nothing but a shattered heart.

Nick Fury tried to help me get back onto my feet but I wanted nothing to do with him, or anyone anymore. I was too heartbroken to even think about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I really just wanted my Bucky back. That’s all I could ever ask of the world.

Five years ago, something happened. I felt like my life had fallen apart again. All the friends I had attempted to make, all disappeared. I wasn’t the only one who lost people they loved and cared for. I finally felt maybe other people out there were feeling the same way I did.

Here in 2023, I have been without the love of my life for almost 80 years. I kept asking why I got to live while he was taken from the world so soon. I never got the answer to that rhetorical question, asked to no one in particular. That was till I got a peculiar call from an unknown number. I answered it hoping it would be the reaper I hoped to be greeted by to take me to the love of my life.

“Y/n?” It was a voice I hadn’t heard in almost a decade. One I thought I’d probably never hear again either.

“Steve.” I sounded cheery for once since I had been out of the ice.

“Hey. How are you doing? I know it’s been years since we talked, but I wanted to see if you wanted to go for a drive? Just you and me.” He asked, and I could tell he was smiling some on the other end.

“That sounds lovely, Steve. I’ve been hanging in there. Since S.H.I.E.L.D. and the whole HYDRA thing, I’ve just been laying low.”

“Where are you living now?” Steve queried.

“I’m living in Brooklyn actually. In my old neighborhood.

“You used to live in Brooklyn before the war?”

“Yep. I actually lived above the antique shop. You know the one.”

“Yeah. I didn’t know we lived so close, yet we never met you till Erskine introduced us.”

“Yeah. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel the way I do now…” I sounded melancholy.

“I’m not too far from where you are. Meet where the antique shop used to be. We can talk more then, I have something I think you would love to hear.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you there.” I said, and hung up quickly. I knew there was nothing he could have told me that would make me jump for joy. He couldn’t say anything that would make my smile come back. It was gone, and faded with time.

I met him where that antique shop used to be, and I could almost picture it all. The cobblestone streets, the kids playing baseball, the world used to be a different place back then. It’s not like it was anymore, and I wish that it kind of was.

“Hey.” Steve smiled, walking up to me.

“Hi.” I gave a small smile, but he could tell I had sadness written all over my face.

“What’s wrong?” Concern spread across his face.

“Nothing. This is just how I smile now.”

“Whoever took away your beautiful, contagious smile is going to pay.”

“Time took my smile away.”

“”Come on. I want to talk to you about something.” His smile grew wider as he led me to his car.

He opened the door for me, and I climbed in. I buckled up as he climbed into the driver’s seat. We headed out of the city, down the countryside. The scenery was beautiful, but I still couldn’t bring myself to start a conversation.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. I have been for 11 years. What’s 40 more gonna do right?” I gave an extremely sad smile.

“Is this about Bucky?”

“There were so many times in my life where we could have met. Maybe just a year longer with him, and I would be able to move on, or maybe not. I was in love with him, Steve. The way I felt the night we first met, it was like everything in my life finally made sense. I felt like I had a purpose.”

“He’s actually the reason I wanted to talk to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was alive. I need your help getting him back.”

“What do you mean? That’s impossible. We both watched him die.”

“Remember when all those men were captured from the 107th, including Bucky, back in ‘43?”

“Yeah, and we went to rescue them.”

“Bucky was experimented on by Armin Zola. Turned into a super soldier himself.”

“Okay and?”

“Whatever Zola did to him, it helped him survive the fall.”

“So what I’m understanding is, you knew he was alive this entire time, and you’re just now telling me about it?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I need your help getting him back now.”

“Okay. You keep saying that, but if he is alive, why would we need to get him back?”

“Remember 5 years ago when half the earth’s population just vanished?”

“Yeah?”

“Bucky was part of that half.”

“And you think we can get him back?”

“I think we can bring back all the life lost 5 years ago. It requires us going back in time though.”

“Time travel? You’re promising time travel in a time where we thought flying cars were going to be a thing.”

“It’s possible though. We’ve tested it, and everything is up and working. We have all the dates in order, we just need the man power.”

“Alright, if it means bringing Bucky back, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you.”

Steve drove us to a huge building practically in the middle of nowhere. There I was greeted by a group of people, one of which I recognized from a brief meeting years ago. The others I didn’t know. I mean one man looked oddly familiar, but I could quite put my finger on where I had seen him before.

“Everyone, this is Y/n. She is an old friend of mine.” Steve introduced me.

“I may be old, but I sure don’t feel like it.”

“Join the club.” Steve chuckled.

“I’m Natasha. We met briefly in D.C. a few years back.” The woman I had recognized approached.

“Yes, I remember you. It’s nice to officially meet you on slightly good terms. While not being utterly terrified by a man with a metal arm.” I smiled slightly, trying to imagine how it would feel to see Bucky once more.

“So how do you two know each other?” The man that I swore looked familiar, spoke up.

“Steve and I fought together during the war.”

“Does that mean she also knew Barnes?” The man questioned.

“Yes. She did. In fact they were together for two years before HYDRA took him.”

“How does he know about Bucky?” I asked, growing concerned.

“It’s a long story.”

“I’m Tony Stark by the way.” The man spoke up, and everything was now coming together.

“I knew you looked familiar to me somehow. You look just like your father.”

“Yeah, well, join the club with everyone who says that.” Tony sounded irritated.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Y/n, it’s alright.” Steve spoke up before Tony could say anything.

He could probably tell I was freaking out. My goal was to help, not make things worse. I could tell by just opening my mouth, I was doing just that. Steve started to rub my back to calm me down.

“Is everything okay?” Natasha asked.

“She’s been through a lot. She didn’t even know Bucky was alive until a couple hours ago.” Steve replied.

“For so long I wished that something would happen so I could be back in his arms again. Now, I have a chance to see him again, and not in the afterlife. He is the man of my dreams, the love of my life. I have never felt this way about anyone before, and the fact that I have tried to move on, but couldn't just shows that I truly did love him.”

“Does she know about him?” Tony asked.

“Not about that. She doesn’t need to know.” Steve stated sternly.

“Know about what? Steve? What aren’t you telling me?”

“Stark, I agree with Steve. If she knew about him, her opinion of him may change.” Natasha interjected.

“She deserves to know the man she loved then will not be the man she is getting back.”

“What are you all going on about?”

“Barnes was the man with the metal arm you spoke of.” Tony blurted out.

“You’re wrong. Bucky would never hurt anyone. He was someone who put others before himself. He would never kill anyone.”

Steve just gave an angry look to Tony. I didn’t know who to believe. Natasha just gave me an apologetic look. I couldn’t read anyone, they all seemed to look angry or apologetic, and I didn;t know who to believe.

“Maybe the Barnes you knew wouldn’t, but over 70+ years, people change.” Tony stated before walking inside.

“Steve? Was Bucky really the man with the metal arm? If he was, I want to know. It won’t change how I feel. I just need to know, so I can help him when he comes back.”

“Yes. He was what the world knew as the Winter Soldier. He isn;t like that anymore. I promise, but he is broken and traumatized from what HYDRA did to him.”

“Understandable. Now let’s go get him and everyone else back.” I smiled, and walked inside. I didn’t have to fake one anymore. I was just happy that I finally had the chance to see Bucky again. That maybe seeing each other again could mend our souls a little bit.

Steve led me to a room where he told me to suit up. I threw on the suit laid out for me, and met the others on the main level. Steve handed me two little vials which he told me would help take me where I needed to be. He told me I was to stay with him to make sure nothing happened to me. I was perfectly okay with that.

We were all ready to find these stones. Steve showed me a picture of the stones him, Tony, Scott, and I were to be getting. I just wanted to get this over with, to be with Bucky once more. I have waited a long time for this moment, and I just couldn’t wait any longer.

“Everyone ready?” Bruce asked.

“See you guys in a minute.” Natasha smiled.

We all shrunk down, and our groups went separate ways. I made sure to not lose sight of Steve as we landed in our desired time. We all started walking the tattered streets of New York City, and I knew where we had landed.

“Banner, you find the time stone, Stark and Lang, you two get the tesseract. I’ll get the scepter.” Steve directed.

“What about me?” I asked, curious what my task would be.

“You are staying right here. We’ll all meet right back here once we have secured our items.”

“Why am I here then if you don’t need me?”

“In case things go south.”

I roll my eyes, “fine. I’ll stay here.”

“Thank you.”

They all walk off, and I stay put where they told me to. I listen to them talking on comms to each other. They were pretty entertaining if I was being honest. That was until they started saying they lost the tesseract. Things looked hopeless now.

“What are we gonna do now? The tesseract is gone, and we don’t have any more of the capsules.” Scott paced.

“I have an extra capsule that will get me where I want to be. Please let me do this Steve?”

“Fine. I think I have an idea where you might be going. Just be careful okay?” He hands me something, “put it in here when you grab it.”

“I will. I promise I’ll be careful. I’ll see you guys when I have aquired the tesseract.” I smile.

I plug in the time and date that I wanted, and shrunk down traveling back to January 1945. The day Steve and I put the plane in the water. I remember seeing Red Skull holding it that day, right before he disappeared actually. Maybe that’s what Steve meant by ‘be careful’.

I headed straight to the hanger, and climbed inside. I hid until I knew it was safe to come out. Which meant waiting till Red Skull took off. I waited for Steve, and I to start fighting Red Skull. I came out and prepared to grab the tesseract. I had the special case Steve handed me before I left.

When Red Skull disappeared, and Steve and I went to man the ship, I grabbed the tesseract. I plugged in the date to head back, and shrunk down again, heading back to the correct timeline. I arrived as everyone else returned as well. I looked around to make sure everyone was there, but one person was missing.

“Clint, where’s Nat?” Bruce asked, looking at Clint.

“Barton, where is she?” Tony asked, being more stern.

“She’s gone...it should have been me.” He sounded so sad. I felt for him. I knew how it felt to lose someone I cared so much about.

They all gathered by the water mourning Natasha’s sacrifice. I let them have their moment. It wasn’t my place to be with them while they grieved. It just didn’t seem right, or fair to them. I sat in the lab waiting for them to come back, and assemble the gauntlet.

Steve walked in and sat next to me, “how did it go?”

“It went well. It was weird seeing Red Skull and you, and me. I think I managed well though. Why did you give me an extra capsule?”

“I figured you would go and help us, then I’d let you go and be with Bucky. Get the time you lost back.”

“That makes no sense if I lose him in the end anyways.”

“Maybe part of me hoped you would change his fate. That way you never lost him. You would never have to know what it was like to lose him.”

“That’s really sweet of you Steve, but I don’t think that would be right. For me or him.”

“I understand. I just want you to know that your pain hasn’t gone unnoticed.”

“I’m glad it hasn’t, but I really wish you knew how much I needed you too. I didn’t just miss Bucky, you were my friend too.”

“I know, but you haven’t been the same since you thought he died. You have been more closed off, you don’t smile, or laugh like you used to. I just want you to be happy again. I want to see that beautiful smile, and hear your contagious laugh once more.”

“You will again one day. Right now though, you need to help the others make this gauntlet.” I gave a half smile before moving out of the way so the others could do their job.

I sat outside with my eyes closed. Just waiting for someone to walk up to me and make sure I was okay. The light from the sun was dimmed like a shadow moved in front of me. I smiled before opening my eyes, thinking that Steve, or maybe Bucky, was standing in front of me. When I looked, I saw something that looked like a meteor heading right for the building.

I tried to run inside, but it was too late. The ball, or cannon, or whatever had already hit the building. I wiggle my way out from under the debris, but I could tell I had a pretty severe wound on my abdomen. I tried to call out to someone, but I got no response. I hoped that everyone was alright.

I finally was able to stand up, and walked outside. There I saw Thor standing, and watching someone. I walked over to him, putting pressure on my side to make sure I stopped the bleeding. That’s when I saw Steve walking up to him too.

“What’s he doing?” Steve asked, looking where Thor was looking.

“He’s just sitting there.” Thor responded. “He doesn’t have the gauntlet right?”

“Not that I can see.”

“Let’s keep it that way.” Steve said, walking over to me.

“Who is that guy?” I asked, looking confused.

“That’s Thanos. He’s the reason half the earth’s population disappeared 5 years ago.”

“Did he figure out what we were planning?”

“It’s not the same Thanos. The one from our time, Thor killed him.” Steve said, walking over to him.

“I used to think that destroying half the planet's life would be good enough, but the other half that stuck around seems to be ungrateful. Looks like I may have to destroy this world, and create a new one, one that will be grateful for the world I have provided.”

That’s when Thor charged at Thanos, and the fight began. Tried to fight as much as I could, but I was losing more and more blood every second. I ran at him, thinking he was going to hurt Steve, but he stopped me and threw me against some rubble. I attempted to get up, but the pain was too much to fight anymore.

I watched as Steve prepared to fight by himself. I wish I had the strength to stand up and fight next to him. I just couldn’t bear the pain anymore. That’s when I heard a voice over comms that sounded kind of familiar.

“Cap, can you read me. On your left.” The voice said, and these vortex-like things opened up, and out walked three people.

Steve turned to me, and saw that I was on the ground. He reached his hand out to me, and I took it, standing up. He smiled at me, and prepared to fight. That’s when armies of people walked through these vortexes. I stayed close to Steve, finding comfort in the one person I knew fairly well.

“You okay?” He asked.

“I’ll be okay. I just want this douchebag dead. He took Bucky away, and now he wants to destroy the entirety of planet earth. He deserves what’s coming to him.”

Steve smiled, “you really haven’t changed a bit. More depressed than what I remember, but your attitude is still the same.” He chuckled lightly.

I giggled, and prepared to fight to the end. I didn’t care if I died, I just wanted Steve and Bucky to live. Steve stood at the front of the army he was leading, perhaps into our last battle. I was ready to do anything. I had found my hidden strength to keep fighting till I physically couldn’t keep fighting anymore. That was quicker to come than I thought. I knew I was losing a lot of blood, but I didn’t know how quickly. Turns out when Thanos threw makeup against the rubble, I created an even bigger wound.

Only a few minutes into the now fair fight, I started to get really dizzy. I tried to grab a hold of someone before I fell, but there was no one around me. I hit the ground and I was out for the count.

~*~

I don’t know how long I had been out for, or if I was still even alive. To my surprise, and Steve’s happiness, I was.

“Hey there sweetheart.” Steve smiled, gripping my hand tightly.

“Did we win?” Of course that would be my first question. It was the first question I asked when we came out of the ice.

He chuckled, but his look turned sad, “we won, but we lost at the same time.”

“What do you mean? Did he snap them away again?” My heart was pounding in my chest. The fear painted across my face.

“No. Everyone who disappeared is back, but Tony...he snapped Thanos and his army away, but he didn’t make it.” Steve gave me an extremely sad look.

I squeezed his hand, not even paying attention to the fact someone had just walked into the room. I didn’t even notice the person till Steve looked over to them, and got up. I couldn’t quite tell who it was because where they were standing was kind of dark. That and my eyes were fully adjusted yet, but I could tell they were tall and well built, they also had semi-long hair.

“Go on. She’s been waiting.” Steve spoke up, seeing me stare at them.

The person came closer, and I was met with their mesmerizing blue eyes. I smiled at them as they came over to sit down. He seemed closed off, or just really shy. I couldn’t quite get a read on him for whatever reason.

“Hey.” He gave a very small smile, almost shy.

“Hey.” I smile more.

“I’ve missed that smile.” Steve spoke up.

I giggled, “well it’s thanks to you that I feel like I can be happy again.”

The man sitting next to me just looked down. I put my hand out for him to take. He grabbed it very gently. It was colder than I thought it would be. I looked down, and saw a metal hand. He tried to pull away, but I gripped his hand tight.

“You’re not scared?” He asked.

“Because I have crossed oceans of time to find you.” I smile wide, bringing his hand to my lips, kissing it gently.

Steve smiled, “you knew it was him the whole time didn’t you?”

“Of course. Those eyes are unforgettable, and his voice is unmistakable.” I felt the hand around mine tighten, and his smile got bigger.

“I’ve missed you doll. I’ve missed you so much.” Bucky spoke.

“I missed you too. I never thought that I would ever see you again.”

We stared lovingly at each other for a while. Enjoying just taking in the fact that he was back into my life. That I had him back. That the best thing that ever happened to me was back. It was the best feeling in the world, one that I thought I would never be able to feel again. I finally felt like my heart had been put back together, and Bucky held the mold in his hands.

#quotemeonit6kchallenge #bucky x reader #steve x platonic!reader #avengers: endgame #The Avengers

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sepublic · 3 years

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Construction Relic Theory

In the Relic Room, we see magical relics representing each of the nine covens, such as the Green Thumb Gauntlet for the Plant Coven, Oracle Sphere for Oracles, Healing Hat for the Healing Coven, etc. The only exception is, curiously, the Construction Relic; There is no artifact for the Construction Coven! Now, speaking from a meta animators’ perspective… Perhaps there is no Construction Relic, because this could imbalance the otherwise symmetrical layout of the relics, four on each side from one another… Or, maybe the crew forgot to include the Construction Relic, and decided it wasn’t necessary alongside most of the Relics anyway, as it’d just be another static background detail.

But what if the Construction Relic is intentionally missing- What if it was Belos’ castle?

I mean, think about it- What we know of Construction magic, and how we’re specifically introduced to it, is the creation of buildings. And Belos’ castle is obviously an incredibly important location for him, pragmatically and thematically, and I’ve speculated in the past that it might serve an additional function as well; Perhaps something to do with the Titan’s heart? It’s also chock-full of pipes and technology, the likes of which we’ve never seen before…

So what if the Construction Relic was used to create Belos’ castle… Or even, it took the form of it? And that’s why it’s not present with the other artifacts; Either it’s in another location, serving as the core and foundation for the castle itself… Or it just straight-up turned into it, as the culmination of Construction magic, devising and transforming into a massive fortress!

Alternatively- What if it was Belos’ staff, instead? We’ve all talked about how technological it looks… Perhaps Belos built and upgraded the Construction Relic into the staff we see today, in order to better enhance his magical abilities? Again, he’s associated with the creation of technology, machines, and automatons- Construction magic fits well with engineering, so it makes sense that this would be the artifact most important to Belos, and the only one he keeps on his person… And it’s potentially how he managed to create so many things such as the portal, and even the castle itself!

Furthermore, we see how Belos can essentially ‘create’ fleshy monsters, like the Intro Worm, and those stone and meat constructs when fighting Luz. This could also fit into the speculation of Belos shaping people, such as members of the Emperor’s Coven and Guard, into uniform bodies… His power could be related to that of reconstruction, of transmutation; But he does so with living bodies, and not just buildings or technology! Maybe it could play into how Belos is able to reconstruct his body, how he’s able to create his own version of the portal…

In fact, maybe that’s how Belos would’ve been able to heal Eda; Not with the Healing Hat, but by using his Construction Relic to literally reconstruct her body, back into its original, normal self! Maybe that’s even how the Curse works in the first place; Maybe it’s actually Construction Magic, and it reconstructs the victim’s body into an Owl Beast! Construction magic, but the building materials are the parts of a person’s body… And so all this time, Luz and Lilith were looking for the wrong artifact; The Healing Hat was not the solution, it was the Construction Relic- Because the Curse is Construction-based, and unlike Belos, they never realized this!

In fact, whether or not it’s Belos’ staff, maybe that’s why the Construction Relic is unseen- It’s deliberately hidden so Lilith can’t just steal and use it for herself on Eda, and then be done! Maybe Belos even intentionally put away the Construction Relic, to manipulate Lilith for this reason! Getting into a meta perspective, Dana Terrace says that her choice of Magic track would be Construction, given how artsy it is… And Belos is possibly that favorited masked character of hers she alluded to, in the Reddit AMA; Although it could just as easily be Owl Mask. Additionally, Belos has a bit of brown in his color scheme himself, in the form of his cowl-mask… Maybe THAT’s the Construction Relic, even! And Construction magic fits Belos as someone with a machine motif, who wants to build an entire empire and Coven System.

Construction Relic is unusually underrepresented, despite it being Dana’s choice- Aside from Mattholomule, we barely see any practitioners. Perhaps Belos could help to fill that role in the story, even if he’s also capable of other forms of magic; Coven Leaders notwithstanding, it’d be neat to see each form of magic get fleshed out with a witch tied to it, with Construction being Belos’ favored manner of magic. If the Curse is Construction Magic, maybe it was made by Belos, given the red coloration it gives off; Though whether Belos intended for Lilith to use it on Eda, or if he just lost it and it passed through hands on the black market, until Lily bought it… And then Belos was able to recognize his own work and thus reverse it- I can’t say.

And once again, I’m going to bring up Fullmetal Alchemist; Because if I AM right and Belos and Father have parallels, and transmutation and alchemy from that series helped to inspire the Glyphs… Then given how Fullmetal Alchemist places emphasis on the terms construction, deconstruction, and reconstruction as a central part of alchemy; Perhaps this could factor into Belos, who’s essentially doing this show’s equivalent to Chimeras and Human Transmutation… Possibly on himself, even!

If we got by his ability to create living constructs AND buildings with this theory, then suddenly this could recontextualize all of those buildings in the Boiling Isles that have body parts in them… With Belos either having a hand in their creation, or Construction Magic being foreshadowed as including some meaty bits as well! This could even tie into Hooty, who himself is a meaty part of a building, and is even brown himself! Maybe House Demons are a variety of demon created by Construction Witches, who incorporate body parts into buildings (possibly supplied by Beastkeepers) and bring them to life- And Belos is using the same principle with the Construction Relic, just with more emphasis on flesh!

Buildings probably require a lot of stone and other earthen materials, and Belos can create rock formations and even move statues, or make them out of people... Suddenly I’m wondering if the Petrification Machine is connected to this relic? And if we go by the idea of construction magic assembling and fusing parts together, perhaps House Demons are regular demons who have been disassembled, and put back together with building materials to create a living house! Beastkeepers could supply body parts and demons, and maybe even help tame/subdue the resulting House Demons for usage afterwards- Working with the Construction Coven to create things like living alarm bells, watches, etc.!

And if you even want to get REALLY meta, Construction Magic being underrepresented could be as part of a twist to get the audience to not think about and notice it… Before it REALLY comes into play! I guess amidst the comparisons to Hooty and Construction magic, that’s another similarity, based on @fermented-writers-block and their speculation on Hooty being intentionally played off as a joke for distraction…

Granted, part of the problem with this theory is that the Relics are revealed to actually be pretty weak; Or at the very least, not particularly legendary- Anything they can do, a decent Witch trained in that magic could also do as well, I imagine. It’s why Lilith has no qualms with destroying the Healing Hat… But then again, if the Healing Hat didn’t work because it had no effect on a Construction-based Curse, then maybe it WAS powerful, but Lilith dismissed it as weak, because it couldn’t fix the curse like she needed it to?

Perhaps the Relics are indeed what they’re hyped up to be, but because Lilith misunderstood the Curse’s nature, she thought the Healing Hat was much weaker than it actually was for not being able to fix it… If so, RIP- Lilith DID destroy a powerful artifact, then! Maybe Belos drained the Relics of most of their power, but saved the Construction Relic because of how important it was. Or, the Relics aren’t normally powerful, as Lilith claimed- But Belos was able to perform modifications to the Construction Relic, turning it into the mechanical staff we see today! Maybe the Construction Relic even created machinery that could enhance the original relic’s own magic; Potentially making it the most dangerous Relic, for its powers of Creation that enable it to bypass its own limits, unlike the other Relics!

So of course Belos would want to keep it… And we’ve seen him capable of adding technology to supplement magical artifacts, like with the portal in the Season Finale. And with how Construction Witches from the Emperor’s Coven are clearly vital to Belos’ creation… Then it’s possible that Construction magic will be the hidden, overlooked, but ultimately invaluable ace up Belos’ sleeve, that everyone has been dismissing and underestimating this entire time! Construction magic being overlooked yet so important would be an interesting theme- Especially since out of the Coven Leaders, the Construction Head is the first and only one we’ve seen, and yet HIS appearance was played off so normally, that the viewers wouldn’t have recognized his relevance until The First Day!

Just a normal part of the background, just another witch… But like the magic of his that is underestimated, the Construction Head turns out to be far more important than we could’ve imagined; And initially, we dismissed him as just an extra, as part of some minor world-building and even a brief joke! Suddenly, the Construction Head empowering Tiny Nose, Dana’s self-insert, with a Power Glyph derived from her magic of choice, takes on a WHOLE new meaning…!

#the owl house #the owl house belos #emperor belos #the owl house eda #edalyn clawthorne #the owl house hooty #construction magic #speculation #theory

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idorkish · 3 years

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Piotr “Colossus” Rasputin SFW Alphabet

The SFW Alphabet is from @snk-warriors

A/n: There are no tags because I haven’t started a Marvel tag list really. Check out the pinned post on my page for my Masterlist and to sign up for my tag list! OR just send me a message.

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

In the rare free time that Piotr has, he is in the art room either painting or drawing. If his s/o is available, they are either in the same space working on their own things and enjoying the rare moments of silence. OR, they’re out and about! Want to go to the museum? Let’s go! Aquarium? Mall? Sure, why not. Piotr is willing to power down and just be content in human skin while walking around with his s/o. It’s also a rare time for him to indulge in a bit of bad eating with his s/o.

Beauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

How much time do you have? Piotr is in love with every aspect of his s/o. From the top of their head to the tip of their toes. But it goes so much deeper than that. He loves how his s/o’s face scrunches when they’re concentrating on something. And how their try to hold back their laughs and snort instead. He loves that his s/o is by his side, for better or worse. Their entire essence and radiance is so beautiful that Piotr does find is hard to articulate what is beautiful about his s/o/

Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Panic attacks, depression, anger, PTSD. Being a teacher at the institute and an X-Men, there is not much he’s not prepared to help with. If he knows that his s/o suffers from these ailments early on, he will ask how they would want him to best help them. Does he need to hold your hand and remind you to breathe? Do you need him in the room but not touch you? How about space - do you just need to be alone in a space for a bit of time? Let him know what the best way to help you is and he will do it. If this is your first panic attack though, well, he is known to be a mother hen for a reason. He will be right there, knelt next to his s/o, a gentle hand on your thigh as he guides you through some breathing exercises and have you tell him 5 things to ground you - 5 things you see, 4 things you can touch or feel, 3 things you hear, 2 things you can smell, and 1 thing you can taste.

Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Oh our sweet dreamer! Piotr wants the stereotypical dream life. A spouse who loves him, a house with a white picket fence. A couple of young ones running around, maybe a dog or two to keep the kids active. If that’s not what his S/o wants though, he’s ok with that. Talk to the big guy, communicate what you want! He will find a way to make it work.

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Piotr is pretty passive. He is easy-going and always wanting to please. There are aspects that he takes the lead on - mostly when it comes to his s/o’s health and well being. No, he will not allow you to eat nothing but junk food. Yes, you will have balanced meals. Do you take medicine? Well you can’t find him on it, you’re taking it at the exact determined time, every day. Oh you have a doctor’s appointment you don’t want to go to? Well you will get the disappointed speech and look from him, AND he will throw you over his shoulder and take you.

Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Piotr fights enough with the X-Men. He does not like fighting with his s/o. On the rare occasions there is an argument about something important, he is STUBBORN. He will not back down. If voices eventually get raised, he’s walking away before he says something stupid and unforgiveable. Depending on the severity, he’s sleeping in the guest or art room to cool down. Once BOTH of you are calmed down, he wants to talk about what happened and how to make sure it doesn’t get to that point again. He doesn’t want to fight with the love of his life, nor does he want to make them sad or hurt.

Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Piotr is grateful for everything in life. For the chance to leave Russia. The chance to teach young mutants and to be an X-Men. And most of all? That he had the chance to meet his s/o. He is very much grateful for all the little things they do for him. It’s the small things like making sure his favorite tea is stocked in the kitchen, that his alarm is set in case he passes out right away, and most of all, how they are willing to just sit in the same room with him, quietly, while he decompresses.

Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

This man? Secrets with his s/o? Not really. He tries to keep quiet when he’s hurt from missions. Or when Charles has given him information not to share with anyone yet. That’s about it. Otherwise, he’s open with his s/o and expects similar.

Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helping them overcome personal problems?

Piotr has always been a gentle giant, however no matter how much he’s come to terms with his mutation, he still worries that he scares people or that he’s limited in what he can do. His s/o would help him realize he can still do everything that others can, he just needs to take more care in how he approaches.

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Piotr is very secure in his relationship and rarely, if ever, gets jealous. He trusts you 100%, so why would he ever get jealous? But when he does get jealous, oh boy. Be ready for a pouty and cold Piotr. He will shrug it off and walk out of the room. He will likely ignore his s/o and become slightly passive aggressive and petty. For someone who does so well with communication, this is the one time that he holds it all in and is unsure of how to express himself. Give him some time, then go and give him extra cuddles and kisses to bring back your gentle-giant.

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Sweet. Slow. Sensual. Soft. Rough. Demanding. Desperate. His kisses run the gauntlet depending on his mood. The first kiss with his s/o was slow and timid. He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, so he took his time. Cupping his s/o’s jaw gently, his thumb smoothing across their cheek. Piotr’s other arm was wrapped around his s/o’s waist, holding them gently but close to his own body. Piotr leaned down and ghosted his lips over theirs before applying the slightest bit of pressure.

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

It took a long time, and a lot of help from the other X-Men, for Piotr to finally express his feelings. It honestly was his S/O to make the first move and ask him out, but it is Piotr who is the first to drop the L-bomb on them. They were walking around the grounds of the manor after dinner, exchanging stories of the past week when Piotr stopped and pulled his s/o against him, wrapping his arms around their waist and just holding them. He pressed the softest-feather-like kiss to their forehead

Marriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Piotr has thought about marriage since he was a little boy. When he meets his s/o and their relationship progresses, those thoughts come back. He wants to marry his s/o one day, but knows it is best to hold out until both are ready. He will openly talk about it with his s/o to figure out if it is something they want. If they do? Awesome! Even though he won’t propose just yet, he wants to figure out his s/o’s ideas for both marriage and proposal. If they don’t want to get married? Well, he’s going to be hurt a bit. Piotr will become a little insecure about why his S/o wouldn’t want to marry him, but that is where his great communication skills come in handy.

Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

“lyubov moya” (my love), “zaika/zaichik” (bunny), “malysh” (baby), “lapochka” (sweetie pie), “zvezda moya” (my star)

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

IT is SOOOOOOOOOOO obvious to everyone when Piotr is in love. He is full of heart eyes and heavenly sighs when thinking of his s/o. He expresses his feelings verbally to and about his s/o.

PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

He is 100% up front about his relationship. Why shouldn’t he be? He loves to hold his s/o’s hand as much as possible and likes to keep an arm around their shoulder or waist when in the company of friends. He’s not afraid to press soft kisses to his S/o’s when around students and/or friends. But that’s about it.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Piotr’s s/o is able to make him relax when it comes to some rules - mostly sleeping in, and indulging in junk food.

On the other hand, Piotr brings down the chaos in his S/O’s life.

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Piotr is the epitome of romance - flowers, bubble baths, and potentially, a night out. He takes into consideration what his s/o likes and incorporates that into their dates and daily time together.

Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

There is no one better at supporting their S/o when it comes to goals, then Piotr. He is the best accountability buddy! If the goal is to work out and eat healthy, then Piotr is there helping come up with a meal plan and find exercise that they will enjoy. If the goal is to explore their creative side, then Piotr is taking them to the store to get what they want/need and clearing out a space in the art studio just for his s/o.

Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

The king of routine honestly. There are things that Piotr does that help him and his S/o keep sane. Consistency does not mean boring when it comes to Piotr though. Also, this doesn’t mean that there isn't’t some spontaneity. When his S/o wears a certain outfit, his brain turns to mush and he can’t keep his hands off of them. Was there a bad mission? Well, things change for a while because of that.

Understanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Piotr and his s/o have been together long enough, and talked enough that they know each other really well. Piotr is extremely empathetic, it’s just his nature. Although they know each other so well, it doesn’t mean they don’t surprise the other once in a while.

Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it worth in comparison to other things in their life?

He might not fully leave the X-Men, and he definitely will NOT leave the school, but if things are getting in the way of his relationship, Piotr is willing to step back for a while. Anything else, he will talk with his s/o to determine the issue and see if it is something he needs to be rid of from his life.

Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

When Piotr finally gives in to his S/o’s request to just relax, oh boy watch out. He ends up sleeping in until almost noon. It freaks everyone out in the mansion when they don’t see him at breakfast, nor around the grounds. When he finally awakes and makes his way for food, he’s powered down and in cargo shorts and a hoodie. The students hanging around stare at him like he’s grown another head. Piotr just smiles and waves to them on his way to get food. Once fed, Piotr seeks out his s/o. He finds them lounging on one of the couches, hanging out with their friends and watching a movie. So Piotr nudges his s/o to sit up so he can curl on the couch with his head on their lap, and moves their hand to his hair. And that’s where he spends the rest of the day until dinner.

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Piotr is an affectionate man. He will give small kisses and hugs when he sees his s/o between classes or when on the grounds, and he’s not against wrapping his arms around them. It’s not often that he cuddles up to his s/o in front of others. When in the privacy of his or their own room? Piotr is the ultimate cuddle-bug. He powers down to his human forms and loves to lay his head on his s/o’s stomach or lap and have them run their fingers through his hair while his nuzzles against them.

Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Depending on why he is not around his s/o, Piotr can be a bit pouty. If he’s off on a mission, he keeps his mind at the task on hand. Otherwise, it can lead to mistakes that he’s not willing to take. If his s/o is out on a mission, he is keeping himself busy with work around the mansion and classes. If his s/o is just away or busy doing something, Piotr tries to keep busy. He really, really tries, but he will eventually seek them out if they’re nearby. He doesn’t always need to be touching his s/o but he likes to be in their presence.

Zeal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Anything he sets his mind to, Piotr gives it his all. This relationship is no different. He has his responsibilities and there is no getting around that but he will fight for his relationship. There is very little that will make him hesitate to work on the relationship. Is his s/o feeling lonely and ignored? Well, Piotr is going to Charles to ask for the weekend off so he can shower his s/o with love and affection. Is his s/o struggling with insecurities and trying to push him away? Oh no sweetie. Piotr can be immovable. He will stand his ground and get his s/o to talk to him. He is not easily scared away.

#sfw alphabet #colussus #Piotr Rasputin #marvel x-men #x-men #marvel headcannons #xmen headcanon

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nebraska-is-a-myth · 4 years

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If you would rather die, then you better hurry up and do it - Crime au part 5

Here we go again boys, thank you all so much for the support with this series, its been so heartwarming to see all of you nice comments. Feel free to talk about any of it in the comments, ask me questions, or give your own suggestions for what you think should happen next in the series and maybe Ill incorporate it into the next part.

Masterlist

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‘The person you are trying to reach is currently unavailable’

“Fuck.”

Dream paces in front of the big windows, sapnap isn't answering his fucking phone and after the phone call he’s just had with Wilbur, there is going to be some hell to pay.

He grips the phone in his hand as his footsteps become more unstable, he feels his hands shaking with rage and fear. He knows Wilbur said that neither of the two boys were too drastically hurt but he can't help but think of what could have happened.

The masked man tries to ground himself with good memories to remind himself that the young boy is alive, a few broken bones but alive nonetheless.

He takes a deep breath and thinks back to the time he Tommy rode out to the outskirts of the dream smp in the early days of Dreams rise to power.

They had both taken motorbikes, much to dreams protest, but Tommy had insisted that he knew how to ride. Even if dream didn't believe him, it would have taken too much effort to convince Tommy to ride on the back of dreams bike.

As they revved their engines through the night, the two friends weaved in between cars and ran through as many red lights they could, and Dream would have to admit he was impressed by Tommy's driving skills.

Every now and again he would glance at the younger boy and listen to him laugh over the roaring of the motorbike Dream had leant him for the night. ( When the night finally concluded, he would gift the bike to Tommy and ride back to Dreams apartment together to watch movies and eat pizza with George and sapnap. Neither of who quite trusted the boy yet, but had come to dislike him a little less )

They both drove until they ran out of road and stopped at the very edge of the city where the land met the water. They took off their helmets and sat under the stars, talking about nothing and everything all at once. They shared stories they never thought they would tell to anyone other than their closest allies, and soon came to realise that maybe they were closer than they thought.

Nothing extraordinary happened that night, but dream thinks that's why it's one of his fonder memories with the boy. But he thinks now he may never get the chance to talk to Tommy in the same way he did that night, there were no secrets then, no fights or anger brooding. He hopes that this is just a big misunderstanding and that maybe he will get a chance to see the stars again, but deep down he knows nothing will ever be the same.

At that moment sapnap walks through the door. Dream can smell the smoke sticking to his skin and he sees the ash wiped across his face. His fists clench but his face remains still.

“What have you done.”

Sapnap looks startled at his friend's voice, half expecting the other man to be asleep at this hour. But his stance softens and he half raises his hands as he talks. “Look, I know you said you had it under control but-”

“What the fuck did you do sapnap!”

“Hey dude chill, I'm doing you a favor here.”

“Doing me a favor! You just set a fucking warehouse on fire with two my men in it!”

“Two of your men? But I-”

“You just put two fucking kids in the hospital sapnap! You think that's doing me a fucking favor!”

“Kids, but they-”

“Yeah well they lied sap! But you didn't even think to fucking check did you! They almost put one of the on a fucking ventilator!”

“Ventilator?”

“I didn't ask for a fucking parrot sapnap, I asked you to stay out of my fucking way!”

Dream punches sapnap in the face and the room goes quiet. Sapnap keeps his face turned from Dream and bites his tongue.

“You better fucking hope those kids recover or next time that'll be a bullet that breaks your nose.”

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It's a while before Wilbur agrees to meet with Dream.

Tubbo is back on his feet again, Wilbur's heartbeat picks up anytime he hears the boy cough but it's never usually more than once or twice. It eases Wilbur's mind to know he wasn't too badly affected by what happened, or at least as far as Tubbo tells him.

Tommy's shoulder is mostly healed now and he's able to carry himself on his crutches, although he mostly uses them to fend off fundy when he makes fury jokes and to poke Eret awake when he falls asleep in his spot on the couch. The left side of his face is scared slightly, it doesn't bother him too much but nobody questions it when they see the boy hobbling round in the spare pair of glasses Eret has in his room. ( Eret won't admit it, but he's stopped putting them in his closet now so tommy doesn't have to reach up high to find them )

Dream tried to contact both of the boys after the fire, only Tubbo responded to his apologetic messages, Tommy leaves him on read every time.

So when he enters Wilbur's headquarters to see both of the young boys laughing and joking with one another, he feels a sense of relief wash over him and he's almost glad nobody can see his expression under the mask.

Tommy however, does not hold the same relief Dream does.

( Okay so maybe he has missed the masked man just a little bit, but he’d rather swallow his own foot than tell dream that )

They blond glares at dream as he enters the room, refuses to reposition himself from where he's sat with his cast over the armrest of the chair. He wants the older man to see what he’s done, wants him to know that the scars are still there. It's the only reason he hasn't got Eret’s glasses on, if he didn't know the spare pair where just inches away in Eret’s office, his demeanor would be very different right now.

Dream stands before Wilbur and clears his throat to speak, Wilbur cuts him off however before he can even mutter a hello.

“We want independence.”

Dreams posture changes and Tommy can tell the demand throws him off.

“I'm sorry I don't understand.”

“We want out of the SMP. We want to request that the east side be recognized as an independent city, separate from the dream smp. You can have access to whatever funds you think you may be entitled to from the past few months, and there are a list of men that would like to return to employment under your jurisdiction. The rest will resume work under my command and will no longer be associated with you or your organization.”

Dream stands silent for a moment, unsure of what his command as a leader should be.

“ And if I deny this request.”

“ We will not ask so nicely again dream. We have the manpower and the determination to reclaim this land as our and we will do so by any means necessary.”

Dream scoffs and turns to Tommy who is still staring daggers into him.

“And you're okay with this.”

“Don't address hi-”

Tommy cuts Wilbur off and grabs his crutch to stand, he walks over to dream in silence, never taking his eyes from the mans stupid masked face.

“I would rather die than be a part of your SMP.”

Dream looks around the room at the faces of people who he used to call his friends. He knows deep down this is his fault, that he should just agree to Wilbur's terms and maybe somehow try and rebuild his friendship with each of them. But he knows that the city isn't prepared for the kind of rivalry that having two independent gangs brings. The streets will be chaos, and he tries to tell himself that this will be the safest option, if the smp defeats them now then Dream will stay on top and he can protect his friends for just a little longer. That's all he needs, just a little bit longer to make Tommy realize that he cannot allow this to happen.

Just a little longer

Dream turns back to tommy and slips into his façade

“If you would rather die, then do it! My answer, is no. Accept it, or face the consequences.”

Wilbur steps forward in front of Tommy and stares dream down.

“Then face the consequences we shall. Now get out, if I see you here again, I will gun you down myself.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few days later, karma catches up with Wilbur as he sits in the very same office he and dream spoke in. He receives a letter from the man himself, appropriately titled:

Declaration of war

Dear Wilbur,

I am a man with a large reputation within the city, and your actions against the smp cannot go without punishment. Therefore I hereby declare that we as a nation, are at war. I can offer you no mercy unless you comply with our demands of surrender from your team. We will allow you 72 hours to prepare and evacuate the city before the borders of your territory are to be bombed. If, by the 42 hour mark, you have not complied to this demand we will fire one warning shot into lmanchildburg lmaburg l’manberg. If any of your men are found on smp soil they will be shot on sight. b4tbg. Within this period of evacuation we will allow you to surrender at any point and hand in your resignation as commander of the east side.

Time to face the consequences Wilbur, the lives of your men are in your hands.

Yours truthfully, Dream

#dream team #dreamwastaken #crime au #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #the eret #fundy #georgenotfound #sapnap #arson sapnap #tubbolive #did yall see the techno reference I put in there #yes it is a secret code for tommy for part 3 #congrats to those who fuigered it out the first time #soft eret times to make the betrayal harder #i do actually really love him tho

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thevioletjones · 3 years

Note

48. “You make me want things I can’t have.” 💜

Thanks for the inspiration! 💜

Prompt 3

Buffer

Ian Gallagher was starting to become a problem.

And the worst part about it was that he wasn’t even a problem that Mickey wanted to resolve. No. He just kept holding Ian closer and refusing to push him away like he should. He was just letting him ruin Mickey’s mediocre life. Because something about Ian was unshakeable. It wasn’t just that Ian kept coming back no matter what Mickey ever said or did, either. Ian was definitely persistent, but Mickey had formed an attachment too, even though he did everything in his power to hide it. It was still there, buried under layers of caustic remarks, aloof expressions, and occasional lashing out. He wasn’t proud of his behavior, but it was just who he was, and remaining unchanged in his ways was easier than the alternative.

Ian was definitely too good for him. Sure, he was hood trash too, but they were on two different levels. Ian was buffed up with a certain surface shine that Mickey lacked. Although, he would admit he’d come a long way in his style and hygiene game since his early days as an unwashed miscreant. Mickey was a gay man after all, and not immune to gaying certain things up, despite his tendency to flout homo conventions. If he wanted the ability to get a decent dick in his ass, there were standards that he’d learned to push himself to meet. This was the glossiest Mickey was ever gonna get, and it still came with a pinch of grime and hostility.

Maybe he’d developed enough sense to give a fuck, but he still didn’t give two shits either; a concept that walking contradictions the world over could likely comprehend.

The thing about Gallagher was that he was sweet. Not in an annoying, cloying, obvious way that was anathema to everything Mickey was about, but in a low-key, casual, incidental kind of way that somehow managed to be attractive, even to someone with Mickey’s abrasive nature. Ian played tough, and he genuinely was in many ways, but he had a gooey, marshmallow center that evened him out. Mickey didn’t see himself as having that sort of balance.

But there were these unsettling moments like this, usually in the middle of the night or early in the morning, when Mickey would catch himself watching Ian unawares. Unawares because he only ever did it when the redhead was deep in sleep. Suddenly, Mickey would be Mr. Contemplation, burning a hole into the face of the dude he was banging, daring to wonder what could happen between them if he wasn’t an emotionally stunted asshole. And then he’d reflect on what Ian’s life was like whenever he wasn’t around; the things Mickey acted like he didn’t care to know.

These circular thought patterns never led anywhere good, because at the end of the day, Ian wasn’t his. And Mickey could never be Ian’s. He’d long ago resigned himself to a certain destiny that involved long-term solitude until his dying day, which he’d always been fairly certain would come prematurely and most likely in violent fashion. It would be ridiculous to drag someone else into his vortex of apathy for life and the general traditions of living it. Especially someone like Ian, who was good; who helped people because he genuinely cared about, like, the well-being of humanity and shit. Despite the occasional soft look or revelatory comment that Ian would throw his way, he knew better than to think he’d want to be saddled with Mickey’s non-reciprocating ogre-y ass.

Usually when one of these intense, one-sided staring sessions would take place, Mickey would overcompensate for silently slipping by adding an extra dose of rudeness when he kicked Ian out after the fact. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure why Gallagher still bothered with him. It wasn’t like he couldn’t get laid elsewhere. Ian was the type that would never have trouble finding a willing ass. Yet somehow he kept coming back to Mickey and ignoring all the negatives thrown in his path. It didn’t make much sense on either of their parts… allowing each other in on any terms. Probably meant that Ian was just as fucked up as he was, really.

Blowing out the last hit off his smoke, Mickey glanced at the bedside clock and stubbed out the cigarette butt. 3:26 AM and he was wide awake, just gawking at his slumbering ginger fuck buddy, and trying to repress the multitude of emotions swirling within him. It was truly pathetic.

He could just get the hell up and drag his ass to the living room to play video games or watch late-night TV, but no. Apparently he liked suffering and feeling conflicted. What a pussy.

Not ten minutes went by before there was slow movement from the other side of the bed... Ian turning over in his sleep, reaching an arm out, and searching. Searching for the warmth of Mickey’s body, it would seem.

A big hand landed on his thigh, rubbing it softly as tired eyes blinked open, and a groggy voice sounded, “What’re’y’doin’?”

Oh, just fuckin’ lying here starin’ at your pasty ass for some reason. “Can’t sleep.”

“Didn’t wear you out?” Ian asked with a breathy titter, squeezing the sensitive flesh precariously close to Mickey’s groin.

Maybe it made his dick twitch a little.

“When did one round ever wear me out?”

“Pretty sure there were two rounds. Did you forget about the couch?”

“Random handies while watchin’ mediocre porn barely counts as a round, carrot-top.”

“A, it wasn’t that mediocre, and B, do you only consider it sex if penetration is involved?”

“I mean… it helps.”

“What about blowjobs, then? How would you classify them?”

“Sex act, but not sex, sex. Know what I mean?”

Ian laughed. “Not really. What about lesbians?”

“Definitely don’t wanna have my cock anywhere near those.”

“Har har. I mean, what would you call lesbian sex?”

“Gross? Boring? I don’t fuckin’ know. Never had it, don’t plan to.”

Ian laughed harder and it made Mickey feel good. “Pretty sure lesbians don’t want fuck all to do with you either, bottom boy.”

“Hey, likin’ what I like don’t make me a bitch.”

“No, but you seem pretty hostile toward anything but a real live human cock poking you in the asshole. I mean, naysaying getting your dick sucked? That’s a bold bossy bottom stance to take.”

“What can I say? I’m a simple man with simple kinks. Aren’t you glad I don’t need any freaky extra shit to get me off?”

“What kinda freaky extras are we talkin’?”

“Fuck off, Gallagher. Don’t act like you don’t just live for stickin’ that big red dick inside any tight manhole that’ll accommodate it. Does that make you a hungry top just begging for it?”

“I prefer ‘brutal top,’ since it’s so big, as you were so kind to mention.”

Mickey rolled his eyes into tomorrow. “Gotta remember to stop accidentally complimenting it. You get so fuckin’ uppity about it.”

Ian rolled over and boxed him in, nuzzling around his face and neck, while Mickey tried to bat him away.

“Come on,” prodded Ian. “Big hard cock seeks tight little hole for another round of deep penetration.”

Mickey could feel said big hard cock firming right up against his hip. “Ixnay on the cutesy man seeking man dirty talk, fuckhead. I will make you take that hulking boner elsewhere.”

“No you won’t,” Ian replied, humping down against him.

Of course he wouldn’t, but he had to front at least a little bit. That was the nature of his inner beast.

While they were fucking, Mickey could just let himself get lost in all the appropriate heightened sensations that really good sex immersed him in. Immersed him and Ian in. Ian and him. Them. Reveling in the pleasure of carnality was totally kosher… as long as it limited him from basking in that additional Ian stuff. That feelings stuff that he had no idea what to do with. That unfathomable connection that existed between them.

He let Ian kiss him a lot too. Like, a lot, a lot. That wasn’t customary for him with other dudes. In fact, it barely ever happened. It was just another habit Ian had slipped under the wire to form with him when he wasn’t paying enough attention. Mickey was pretty sure he’d kissed more girls in his life than boys, because that was always an easy, less disgusting way to publicly appear straight during the years he’d spent in the closet. With guys, there was nothing to prove and everything to hide, so it just wasn’t something he incorporated into his casual sex routine.

Before Ian, he hadn’t exactly attracted the kind of dudes that warranted sticking around for in any capacity, or who made any kind of effort to stick with him. There were never any near-miss boyfriends, or pine-worthy hookups. Sex was always transactional and he’d been perfectly fine with that arrangement.

The truth was that once he’d fucked up and invited Ian in for repeats over and over again, he started to figure out that the sex just kept getting hotter and hotter. That when two bodies really took the time to get to know each other, things fit better, motions got smoother, and orgasms got a thousand times stronger. Turned out that one-night-stands were not where the fuck it was at. Those were always crapshoots with odds that were at best 25/75 in favor of mediocrity. With Ian, it was guaranteed total fulfillment 100% of the time.

That was the only explanation he could find for this unexpected addiction he was stuck with. An addiction to Ian and his stupidly perfect cock. The rest of his body was alright too. And when he spoke, he wasn’t completely fucking annoying. His personality and his nature were tolerable. Mickey didn’t want to gouge his eyes out every time he got sucked into a conversation.

They didn’t really hang out, though. Outside of the bedroom, that is. It was like the whole game changed when they were in bed. They could fuck, they could goof around and have a laugh, they could wrestle, they could accidentally say something profound once in a while… but if Ian had a bag of food when he dropped by, Mickey wasn’t about to sit on the couch and watch TV with him while he ate it, and he definitely wasn’t going to accept a portion for himself.

Until tonight, that is. Or last night, or however the fuck time was identified when you were a natural night owl.

Tonight, they’d crossed another invisible line in the sand, and Mickey had found himself chowing down on tacos, while heckling some shitty 90s action film; his part-time lover chuckling next to him with a sloppy mouth.

It was fucking terrifying.

So as soon as he’d realized what was actually happening, and how much he didn’t hate it, Mickey had switched over to some hardcore porn. They’d cracked jokes about it at first, but it’d done the trick of quickly leading to the familiar comfort of sexual gratification. With that justification, Mickey could just sweep the whole ‘watching a movie and eating together like they were on a date’ thing under the proverbial rug without further examination.

At least until Ian had fallen asleep around 2 AM. Then it was dwell city.

By 4:30 AM, Ian had fucked him into the mattress once again, and promptly fallen back asleep without a care in the world. Mickey was more than sated, but felt even more awake than he had an hour ago, his brain full of fresh bullshit about the man next to him and what was happening between them.

He opened his bedside drawer and pulled out his stash, knowing the high would fog up his brain enough to go off on thought tangents, and eventually shut down for at least five hours. Within ten minutes, he felt a little better, or at least more distracted. He was still very aware of Ian’s looming presence in the darkness, though. He wanted to be comforted by it, but he just couldn’t relax.

There’d always been a buffer between them, which Mickey had been diligent in maintaining, and he could see it slowly falling away now. If he didn’t step up and push back, pretty soon there’d be no barrier left standing. Who the fuck knew what could happen then.

He hated it. He felt so fucking out of control, when it should be the easiest thing in the world to control. All he had to do was break it off. He knew exactly what to say and do to make that happen. Knew enough to be able to really hit Ian where it hurt, both literally and figuratively.

But goddamn it, he didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to make Ian sad, and he didn’t want to give into his own desire to try for more. He would always fuck it up, because he was a fuck-up by nature. His goddamn knuckles spelled it all out in block letters.

He wanted Ian, but he didn’t want the responsibility. Didn’t trust himself, because no one had ever trusted him before in his entire life. What kind of dumbass wanted that kind of damaged douchebag for a boyfriend? No sane one.

Against his better judgment, Mickey rolled closer to Ian and wrapped an arm around his middle, spooning him the way he secretly liked it when Ian spooned him. He held him close and breathed in his scent.

“You make me want things I can’t have,” he murmured to himself, exhaling heavily against Ian’s neck.

He fell asleep swiftly, and in the morning, he didn’t ask Ian to leave.

#ian x mickey #fanfic #gallavich #fanfiction #asks #answers

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