#like sure- it might not be the greatest movie in the world and there are issues but it held my attention! it was fun!

[kokomatdoroshi]

every time a perfectly fine movie gets a terrible scathing review it's very clear to me that the writer just doesn't like to have fun

[piedinthepiper]

Prima Ballerina ˖ ⊹

Yandere!Jimin x ballerina!reader

Summary: What’s the difference between a great ballerina and the greatest ballerina? The answer is Park Jimin. And he had his eyes on you in more than a professional way.

Warnings: heavy dubcon, Jimin is super cocky and thinks he knows everything (misogyny?), cursing, corruption, Jimin is also a creep, age gap (reader is of legal age), stalking (non descriptive), smut

Wc: 4.3k

A/n: Written for this request. I love black swan and ballet so I had to do this! Hope you enjoy! Don’t be a silent reader! Like, repost and comment!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

Another disclaimer: I know nothing about ballet except for whatever ballet they show in the Barbie movies. Everything is off Google, so some technical terms and such might be incorrect.

You did a final jump before the dramatic music came to an end. His eyes were piercing through you. Watching your every movement, your every step, your every breath. But he watched you all, you thought to yourself. Everybody had to be perfect for the premiere of Swan lake. The hardest and most demanding ballet you had ever danced in your career. The choreography was almost impossible. So Mr. Park had yet again kept you there for hours overtime, and all of you were exhausted.

“Agh, my feet hurt. I hope this was the last round.”

Your friend, Maria, whispered to you. You smiled at her and was about to answer, when a loud clap was heard throughout the room. It silenced everyone.

“Ms. Sanderson, do you have something to tell the company?”

Mr. Park locked eyes with her. Staring her down from across the room like a predator. She looked a bit tongue tied for a second.

“Ehm- no. No, Mr. Park.”

He nodded at her answer.

“I do think I heard complaining back there, are you sure you didn’t say anything?”

She looked down to the floor and carefully shook her head.

“I don’t believe you, you’re pathetic. Out of my studio!”

He yelled at her and pointed a sharp finger towards the exit. Her eyes continued to stay on the floor. Accepting her fate.

“I said it!”

You yelled back and raised your hand. His eyes turned back to you.

“Bold of you, Ms. y/l/n. Thanks to you all the swans have to practice for another hour. The rest are dismissed.”

The room was filled with sighs and groans.

“Ok, let’s make that two.”

No one uttered a single word, afraid that the time would get longer.

“That’s what I thought. You, come with me.”

He briefly pointed at you, before he started to walk out of the practice room.

“The rest of you can take a 10 minute break.”

Maria looked at you with a apologetic look.

“Thank you, y/n.”

She said and grabbed your hand. You gave her a small smile. Of course you would stand up for her. She was your best friend in the company.

“Yeah, thanks a lot y/n.”

One of the other girls said sarcastically. You didn’t pay it any mind, you would also be furious if someone made you stay two hours overtime when you already were on overtime. You grabbed your leg warmers.

“No worries, you know I got you.”

You comforted Maria, before you started walking towards the exit. You knew Mr. Park went to his office. It wasn’t your first time being scolded.

“Sit down.”

He said once you entered. He was already sitting behind his desk. You sat down opposite of him, leaning down to slide into your leg warmers.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Park.”

You started off with. Trying to sound as apologetic as possible. He sighed.

“Do you think I do this for fun, y/n?”

You got up from your crouched position and looked him in the eyes.

“No I don’t.”

He was one of the best ballet teachers and directors in the whole world. It was obviously an honour just to be able to dance for him. But you knew he had a soft spot for you for some reason. That’s why you were comfortable taking Maria’s place.

“I would much rather be at home as well, relaxing and eating a good meal. But there would be no Swan lake, and there would be no good ballerinas without me.”

He pulled his hand through his black hair in stress. It was slicked back like usual, but throughout the day a few strands had loosened.

“If everyone stopped practicing at five o’clock like scheduled, the premiere would be nothing but chaos. Do you understand that, y/n?”

You nodded. He looked you up and down for a second. Taking in your form. He slowly got up and walked towards you. He grabbed your chin harshly, making you look back up at him.

“I’ve been observing you for the last days, you truly are far too beautiful and talented to be just a swan.”

You raised your eyebrows at his sudden compliment.

“You’re prima ballerina material, for sure.”

His hand slid to the side of your face, cupping your jaw.

“Too bad I have to fire you.”

“What?!”

Your eyebrows crossed as you shook your head out of his grip. His hand went into his pocket, making him look surprisingly relaxed.

“The two of us, let alone the entire company, knows that this isn’t your first time being sent to my office.”

You looked at him in shock. You couldn’t believe what he was saying.

“If I don’t give you the consequences, it’s going to look suspicious.”

You shook your head. He was going to fire you just because something as simple as complaining?

“You can’t do that.”

“I’ll do whatever I want with my ballerinas.”

He smirked again, before walking to stand right in front of you. You looked up and down his long body. Before looking back at him with your most innocent, but still sultry eyes.

“Please don’t fire me, Mr. Park. You wouldn’t do that to me would you?”

He cocked his head at your plea. Scanning you up and down yet again. He had a puzzled look on his face.

“Don’t test me.”

You grabbed his hand as you fell down to your knees. You knew he liked it when you begged. And since this was a life or death situation for your career, you didn’t mind being a little extra.

“I’ll do anything. Please just let me continue to dance for you. I’m nothing without you. I can’t- you can’t-”

You knew what buttons to push. His ego was too big to not take the bait.

“You’re right. It would be a shame to waste your potential.”

He lifted your head up again by your chin. A sudden sexual tension hit you, once you saw the outline of his bulge. You knew your actions had an effect on him, but not to that extent.

“It would be a shame to waste such a pretty face.”

You tried your best to look him in the eyes. It was hard to not shy away at a situation like that, even for you.

“Please, Mr. Park.”

He inhaled sharply, before he broke out in a smile.

“I forgive you, y/n. I can’t live with myself if I don’t give you another chance.”

You smiled up at him as well, preceding to get back up on your feet. But his arm found your shoulder and stopped you in your ascend.

“Wait.”

He warned you, and you quickly sat back down on your knees.

“I like seeing you like this, it’s not often you look so- submissive.”

Chills ran down your spine at his words. You definitely did not take that as a compliment. You were quite fiery, yes. And in any normal situation you would never let a man speak to you like he did. But the fear of losing your job, combined with the reverence you felt towards him, made you defy yourself.

“After this season I want you to take private lessons with me. Every Tuesday and Thursday.”

You nodded carefully, not looking up at him.

“Don’t look so down, darling. I’ll make you my next prima ballerina.”

“He said what?”

Maria half whispered in shock.

“Ms. Sanderson.”

Mrs. Petrova, your instructor, who was so old she probably was alive when swan lake was composed, hushed her. Maria looked at her before looking down at her moving feet. The company was warming up, standing in clean lines against the railing, moving to the rhythm of the slow classical music.

“Not only did he not fire you.”

She whispered once Mrs. Petrova was at the other end of the room.

“But he also said he would make you a prima ballerina?”

You nodded.

“Switch to third position!”

The two of you switched.

“Wow, you are so lucky. Mr. Park hasn’t had a prima ballerina in years.”

You smiled at her, and lifted you head higher when Mrs. Petrova walked by. You remained silent until you knew she was far enough away.

“I’m happy of course, it’s just- I don’t know. There’s something weird about him.”

“Yeah he’s like really cocky.”

She answered and held back a laugh.

“That too, but he’s just eerie. Like I don’t know if I want to spend so much time with him alone.”

“Ms. y/l/n! Would you like to share something with the company? Or do I have to send the two of you to Mr. Parks office?”

Mrs. Petrova suddenly bursted out. You locked eyes with Maria. Not knowing what to answer the old hag.

“We were just talking about-“

“Boys, just boys.”

You interrupted Maria. Not wanting her to say anything about you or Mr. Park. Mrs. Petrova gave the two of you a strict look, before the music started playing again.

“Please focus on your movements, not the opposite gender.”

She scolded before walking away from the two of you.

“And fourth position!”

“He just kept looking at me weirdly, and telling me that I’m beautiful and shit.”

You said as the two of you were walking down towards the cafeteria for lunch.

“Oh my god! He probably has a crush on you or something!”

Maria said a little bit too loud. You poked her in her side with your elbow.

“Please, keep it down.”

She started laughing, and you quickly followed. As you turned a corner you crashed into something. Or rather someone. A hand snuck around you waist, keeping you from falling. You looked up, finding the familiar brown eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Park. I didn’t see where I was going.”

He looked at you for a second, before smiling. He didn’t let go of your waist, and when you became aware of that you awkwardly stepped away from him.

“No harm done.”

He simply said and walked away. You looked over at Maria.

“I get it.”

She simply said as you started walking again.

“Right?”

You asked, looking back at her as she tried to keep up with you.

“What ever look he just gave you was not the look you give to someone you have a crush on.”

The season had ended, for a minute you felt relief. Knowing you had time off now to just relax before the next season. But as you read the message on your phone, you felt that relief fade away.

“Studio 5, next Thursday at 07.00 am. Don’t be late.”

You sighed, was this really what you wanted? Of course it was a dream come true to potential become Mr. Parks new prima ballerina. But you couldn’t help but feel weird about that time in his office. It seemed like he had other intentions in mind. Mr. Park was an attractive man yes, but he was way older than you and you didn’t want his attention in that way. He was your teacher, your mentor. Not a potential hook up. You didn’t see him in that way, and you hoped against all odds that he didn’t see you like that either.

What you didn’t know was that in that moment, outside on the dark street. He was there. Looking at you through your window. Watching your puzzled look at his text. He didn’t know his intentions fully yet either. But he did know they were not good.

“Higher.”

He simply said as he watch you dance to the music. It was your fifth lesson together, and everything was going well. You hadn’t seen the side of him that you saw when he proposed this idea. And you were enjoying yourself, getting these private lessons had really helped you improve. In the next second arabesque, you lifted your leg even higher. Showing him that you listened. But he still shut the music off. You stepped down from your tips, looking at him as he walked up to you.

“Turn around.”

He said once he reached you. And you did as instructed. You looked at him through the big mirrors.

“Do your second arabesque.”

You stood back up on your toes, and gracefully bent into a second arabesque.

“Look at yourself in the mirror.”

He said, and you did. You instinctively pushed your leg even further up, once you saw your own reflection.

“Now back to full position.”

You moved your face upwards again, looking away from the mirror. You felt his hands touch your waist. He straightened your back, before one of his hands went to your lifted leg.

“Look back at yourself.”

He almost whispered in your ear, now with one hand on your waist, and the other holding your leg higher than what you were comfortable with. You smiled once you saw yourself. Your arabesque looked different, more sophisticated.

“When you do your second arabesque, or any arabesque for that matter. Remember this. Straight back and high leg.”

He said in a low comforting tone once he saw your smile. You nodded, and stepped down from your tippy toes. He let go of your leg, but moved that hand to the other side of your waist.

“Think of me holding your waist, it’ll help you stabilise.”

He whispered now, you felt his warm breath on the back of your neck. You turned to look at him.

“Thank you.”

You muttered. His eyes immediately fell to your lips, and in a split second his lips were on yours. You were caught off guard, and didn’t respond at first. But once it dawned on you what was happening you quickly moved your face away from his. You felt his hands on your waist tighten.

“Please don’t ever do that again.”

You looked up at the mirror, wanting to see his reaction. He was looking you dead in the eye, with anger written all over his face. He leaned down to kiss your bare shoulder, still maintaining eye contact. Before he deeply whispered.

“I’ll do whatever I want with my ballerinas.”

His hand moved up to your face as he turned to kiss you yet again. You pushed him away, and tried to make a run for it. But he snaked his arm around your chest.

“Let me go!”

You struggled against him, now scared of what would happen if you didn’t get away. Your fight or flight instinct kicked in and you elbowed him as hard as you could in his side. His hand loosened and you ran. But not quick enough. He grabbed you by your arm and threw you into the big mirror. It was pure luck that it didn’t shatter. His body locked you in.

“Hush, I won’t hurt you.”

He said, and for a second you stopped fighting. You were out of breath, but still managed to give him a death glare.

“Let me go!”

You tried once again. He shook his head.

“Do you think I just give away free lessons? Don’t you think you need to repay me?”

You felt something hard against your abdomen. You wanted to cry, you didn’t know what to do. His face shifted once he saw your eyes watering.

“No, no. I’m not a rapist, y/n! God no. But if you want to be my prima ballerina. You have to get your priorities straight.”

You clung onto the little bit of relief you felt from his words.

“I’ve tried my best to stay away, y/n. I really have. But there’s just something about you.”

You felt his hips grind against yours.

“You make me fucking crazy. I can’t wait any longer. I need you.”

He let out a small moan at the friction. A tear fell down your face.

“Please, Mr. Park. Let me go.”

You sobbed. He hushed you again.

“I’ll let you go. Just listen to me.”

You took a deep breath, collecting yourself as much as you could.

“By next Thursday I want an answer. Either you show up or you don’t. Don’t be late.”

He pushed himself off the wall and gave you one last look before slowly walking out the studio. Leaving you alone in the big dance room. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

“I don’t know what to do, Maria. This is like a fucking nightmare!”

You said sobbing onto Marias lap as she comforted you. You called her the minute you got home, knowing that she already knew most of the backstory. She immediately came over to your place, wanting to be there for you in a situation like this. You were forever great full for having a friend like her.

“You have to report this. Surely the police could do something about him.”

She said in a calm voice, stroking your hair lightly. You sat up in your bed, wiping your tears away from your swollen face.

“Would they though?”

You asked defeated. Mr. Park was a rich and famous man. You wanted to believe Marias theory, but the hard sad truth was that you didn’t stand a chance against him. Especially with no proof.

“Either I don’t show up and give up my career or-“

You paused, collecting your thoughts.

“Or you give that bastard what he wants.”

Maria finished for you. Knowing exactly what you were thinking.

“Look, being Jimin Parks prima ballerina is huge. It really is, but- I don’t know, is it really worth it? Is it really worth loosing your dignity for a life of fame?”

She asked you with a worried face. You blinked away your tears, not wanting to cry anymore.

“What else would I do? I’ve been dancing my entire life, everything I’ve ever done has lead up to this moment. I can’t-“

You shook your head, not letting the emotions take control over you again.

“I have to show up, I have to talk some sense into him. I can’t give up now. I just can’t.”

You looked down at your hands in your lap as you felt a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“You could go to college, get a degree, get a nine to five. Anything but this, please I can’t watch you go through with this. It’s not safe to see him again.”

You looked up at her again.

“And be a complete failure? Not only to my parents, to you, to the company, but also to myself. This is all I’ve ever dreamed of, Maria.”

“You won’t be a failure! You’re an amazing dancer, you have real talent. But it’s not worth it.”

You shook your head. You had already made up your mind.

“I’m sorry.”

You mumbled. Maria sighed and got up from the bed.

“You do you, girl. But you better not call me crying next Thursday. I won’t feel bad for you.”

She said before walking out your room. You were alone with this now. But like you told her, you couldn’t give up on your dream. No matter the cost.

Thursday. You were sweating. A lump had formed itself inside your stomach, and it was impossible to to ignore it. You took what felt like your last breath before you opened the door to the studio. He stood in the other end, hands crossed over his chest, with a smirk plastered on his lips.

“You’re late.”

His voice rang through the big room, leaving an echo. You stepped into the room, the door shutting behind you. Another echo filling the otherwise dead silent room. You didn’t walk towards him, you stayed by the door. The silence making the lump in your stomach grow even larger.

“What are you doing?”

He asked, still with a slight smirk.

“Come here, we have dancing to do.”

You didn’t know what to do. Your entire body was screaming for you to run out the door and never look back. But your brain didn’t let you move.

“Come over here, y/n. Right now!”

He said in a strict tone, once you didn’t listen. Your own feet moved against your own will, as you slowly started moving forward. You put your bag down on your way.

“Good girl.”

He said, barely audible. But you heard it. All your senses were sharpened. He watched you like a predator, as you can closer and closer. You stopped at a reasonable distance. Close enough to have a conversation with him, but still just out of reach.

“Why so gloomy? You’ve made the biggest decision in your life, baby.”

He stepped closer to you. Every single muscle in your body tensed as his hand met your face in a loving embrace.

“I’m going to make you a star.”

He whispered. You shook your head.

“I don’t want to have sex with you, Mr. Park.”

His smile faded at your words. You straightened your back, trying your best to seem confident and not afraid of the man standing in front of you.

“This is all I’ve ever dreamt of. It’s all I’ve ever worked for. But I refuse to think that this is the only way I can get what I want.”

You said as you tried to conceal the shaky breath escaping your mouth.

“Please, I don’t want to sleep my way to fame. I want to earn it. So tell me, do you see a true and genuine prima ballerina in me. Or am I just a piece of meat?”

He looked at you directly in your eyes. You didn’t break eye contact. You were not giving up, not yet. He broke out in laughter after a few seconds of staring into your soul.

“Oh, y/n. Please.”

He continued laughing, as if this whole thing was a joke. You stayed as serious as ever.

“This is what I like about you. You’re so stubborn, so strong. You don’t see that often around here.”

He turned serious in a split second.

“Why would I be lying to you? Huh? I can sleep with whoever I want. If I wanted just a one night stand I’d pick one of the other girls. Someone easier to manipulate.”

His hand slid around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“I’m a man of my word, y/n. I see potential in you, I wouldn’t just say that to anyone.”

His eyes flickered down to your lips. You instinctively turned your head away, opting to looking at the two of you in the mirror. He looked back at you in the reflection.

“I see my next prima ballerina.”

He said and pointed at the mirror.

“You’re not just beautiful and talented, you have a strong mind. You’re perfect.”

You sighed, looking back at him.

“Why would you waste it all?”

He asked and softly caressed your chin. Your gaze flicked down, wanting to look anywhere but him. He was right, why would you waste the opportunity to have everything you’ve ever wanted?

“It’s honestly a package deal. You get fame and fortune, and good sex. I don’t see what the problem is honestly.”

You looked back up at him again. Trying to conceal the ick you just got.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

His face turned into a devilish grin.

“Join me in my office.”

He hastily got rid of your bollero, throwing it onto the floor. The second you stepped into his office his lips were on yours. Your fate was sealed, there was no return now. He grabbed at your hips harshly, digging his fingers into you with desperation and lust. He lifted you up, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He walked over to his desk, leaving your lips for a moment to push whatever was on it onto the floor. It all hit the floor and made a loud crashing noise. He placed you onto the desk, continuing his heated attack of your lips.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long, baby.”

He said in between kisses. Working on your wrap around skirt and tights. You lifted yourself off the desk so he could slide your garments off. Leaving you in your underwear and tank top.

“You have no idea how crazy you’ve made me. How many sins I’ve done in your favour.”

His lips crashed back onto yours. You started thinking of your career as you heard him removing his belt. Preparing yourself for what was to come. He pushed your upper body down onto the desk, making your head dip over the edge of the desk. You looked at his office upside down, staring at the expensive painting hanging on the wall. You felt him sliding your underwear to the side.

“What a pretty pussy you have, baby.”

He said before sliding himself into you, making you moan as you felt yourself being filled up.

“Better than I ever imagined.”

He groaned as he started to slowly move. You continued to look at the painting of the ballerina with a bouquet in her hands bowing down in a gracious pose. Your hands found his forearms, digging your nails into his skin. Your breath got heavy as you felt his speed increase.

But still you focused on the ballerina. You imagined it was you. Maybe that would be you after this. Bowing deeply to the applause of hundreds, maybe even thousands of people in the audience. They all applauding you. You moaned loudly once he hit a good spot.

“You like that? You want it, huh?”

“Yes.”

You said in a shaky voice. You wanted this, you wanted this more than anything. This was all worth it in the end. You would be a star, a prima ballerina. Someone little girls looked up to, and adults wanted to be. You would be like that ballerina in the painting. Gracious and beautiful in every way. Everything you ever aspired to be. Everything you were meant to be.

“God, I’m gonna-“

You belonged here. On that desk. In that studio. Alone on a stage, bowing to the audience after the greatest performance of their lives. You were Mr. Park’s new prima ballerina.

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

[incorrectbatfam]

The time travel fix it trope but it's Alfred. It's been Alfred for a long long time.

Ok but imagine:

Alfred tries to fix things by going back to the day at the movie theater and preventing Thomas and Martha's deaths. He thinks that should be it, that should make everything okay because it was the root of all the problems, right?

He then returns to the present. Thomas, Martha, and Bruce are all older. Bruce is now in charge of Wayne Enterprises. The Manor is always bustling with galas, dinner parties, and visits from important guests and business partners. Alfred goes back to his job as the butler, but after a while, he realizes what he's done.

With Thomas and Martha alive, Bruce has no reason to become Batman. Without Batman, Dick Grayson grows up floating from one foster home to the next until he aged out and was left to his own devices. Jason Todd manages to claw his way out the gutter but he's a completely different person. Tim Drake begrudgingly follows his parents' footsteps and becomes another fake smile on the cover of a magazine. Barbara Gordon pursues an ordinary job that she doesn't like. Stephanie Brown, Duke Thomas, and Cassandra Cain are all lost in the conversation. Damian Wayne never existed. Crime and villainy are rampant but Bruce is safe and far removed. There's no Justice League. No Titans or Young Justice or Birds of Prey. No batfamily. No warmth.

So Alfred goes back. He travels back to when his first iteration was going to save Thomas and Martha, and he stops himself. The Waynes are murdered in that alleyway and it breaks Alfred's heart all over again, but it's the only way to set things straight. Or so he hopes.

Holding his breath, he goes back to the present-day Manor. Of course, the first person he sees is Bruce and of course Bruce immediately picks up that something happened because he is, after all, the World's Greatest Detective. Alfred ignores him and, to his relief, finds the Batcave entrance in the clock.

Dick and Tim are going through a set of cold cases that Tim thinks might be interconnected. Steph is recounting her fight to the Riddler to Cass and Babs. Jason is holding something out of Damian's reach and Duke is giving Damian a little boost. Kate and Bette are helping each other wipe clay off their uniforms while Harper and Cullen test a prototype taser on a dummy. Luke is calibrating his armor. Helena is sharpening her arrows. Selina is opening a fortune cookie from their post-patrol takeout. Ace and Titus are fighting over a chew toy while the cat naps on the keyboard.

They're all there.

Bruce catches up and asks, "Alfred, is something wrong?"

Alfred shakes it off and composes himself. "Not at all, Master Bruce. Why do you ask?"

"Just making sure," Bruce says before he goes and joins the family.

Alfred's family.

Not perfect, but whole.

Just the way it should be.

[astroboots]

Issue #11

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: Miguel brings you gifts.

Word count: 3,600

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist

[Previous] [Next]

Stark’s courier service arrives at your hotel the following day, a crew of four brawny looking men dressed in overalls, carrying in some 13 boxes of equipment, which take up the majority of the floor space of your luxury suite. 

It finds residence in the seating area of the hotel room. Fancy looking gadgets of shiny chrome and colorful LED lights that look like they were stolen from the movie set of Back to the Future. 

Miguel sets up shop, turning the pink girly vanity dressing table into an impromptu workbench. It’s where he’s been seated most of the last 36 hours, hunched over the tiny little table tinkering with the watch and various futuristic looking mechanical gears at all hours of the night. 

The laser scalpel he’s using might be soundless, but Miguel sure isn’t. Last night, you’d been constantly woken up by his growling as he trashes another expensive looking tool with an angry growl. Pacing the room for a few minutes, mumbling and complaining about the cheap quality of Stark tech and how primitive this world is. Then he's right back at it, sitting back down on the little pink velvet ottoman to continue tinkering. 

Tonight is no different. You’re in bed, scrolling your phone to unwind before going to sleep, when you hear him grumble again then stab the laser scalpel into the surface of the table. 

Peeling off the fluffy comfortable quilt wrapped around you, you make your way over to him before he destroys any more fancy furniture you can never dream of affording to replace on your modest salary. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, as you stand behind him. 

“Bastard’s tagged the thing with a receptor that feeds information about any modifications made back to him. It’s booby trapped so that if I try to remove it, the whole thing will disintegrate.”

You lean over to peer at the desk over his shoulder, observing the arc reactor that's pulsing like a beating heart with a glow of blue. 

“Does it matter? Let him have your technology.” 

In the reflection of the vanity mirror, you can see the small muscle in his jaw tic with irritation. 

“No,” he says flatly, picking up the scalpel again from where it’s wedged into the table. “We can’t risk him getting a hold of inter-dimensional technology. I don’t want Stark to be able to locate and come after you.”

Oh Jesus, not this again. 

“I already told you, I’m not interested in Tony Stark." You resist the urge to roll your eyes at part two of Miguel's unwarranted jealousy feud with Stark. Didn’t the two of you have a heartfelt conversation about this? 

“That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?”

He's grinding down on his jaw with irritated anger at whatever it is he’s thinking but not sharing with you. “We can’t trust him.”

“He’s a superhero, Miguel, just like you. If we can't trust him, then I don't know who we can trust.”

Miguel's mouth pulls into a grim and tight line at your words.  For a brief moment, you think you catch a hint of fear on his face, before he breaks eye contact and turns away, back towards the bench. It takes you by surprise because you didn’t think Miguel was scared of anything. 

“Tony Stark is one of the good guys,” you try again.

You rest a hand on the edge of his shoulder, trying to help placate his unease. “He’s an Avenger, remember? It's their job to protect the world.”

It dawns on you when you hear the words from your own mouth. The reason why he doesn’t want Tony Stark to be able to keep tabs on you and come after you.

The Avengers are meant to protect the world from any threats, and right now one of the greatest threats to this world is… you.

“Oh,” the tiny sound punches out of you as a yawning pit of uncertainty and fear opens up in your stomach.

One in every 40 New Yorkers will have a run-in with Superhero in their time in the city. 

You've just always thought that, if your turn to encounter the Avengers came, it would be as a grateful civilian saved from the clutches of evil. You never thought it would be because you were the danger the world needed saving from.

Miguel must sense the moment the realization hits you, because he sets aside his tools and takes your hand, gently stroking the palm of it with his thumb.

"You have nothing to worry about, it’s just going to take some time," he murmurs, and he looks up at you with such warmth it makes the anxiety in you thaw slightly. "I'll be done with it soon.”

He eyes the arc reactor, not letting go of your hand. "Try to get some sleep."

You fall asleep to the white noise of tinkering metal and Miguel’s frustrated murmured curses. The noises should annoy you, but they don't. You find it oddly comforting, being able to hear Miguel move around in the same room as you when you’re in bed. Know with every fiber of your being that his presence means you're safe and easily drift fast asleep.

You don't know how long you stay asleep for or how much sleep you manage to catch before you feel the bed dip beside you.

"Hey," a voice softly cajoles you. There's a warm palm on your shoulder, gently nudging you awake. But you're not prepared to wake yet. Too comfortable in the haze of sleep to give it up.

You bury your head into the pillow, hoping to shut out any interference that's trying to keep you from your sleep.

"Cielito," the gentle voice tries again. "Wake up."

Grumpily and with great resistance, you strain to turn your head, squinting your eyes awake to see Miguel's face filling your vision.

It’s dark in here save for a small lamp left on in the far off corner. In this muted light, his scarlet eyes are illuminated with an otherworldly brilliance. If you had been more awake, you would have wanted to take a second or two to marvel at how beautiful they are.

"I got something for you," he says. 

There’s a barely contained eagerness in his voice as he speaks, and sleepy as you are, it peaks your interest. You blink your eyes properly open, adjusting to the dim dark to see two small boxes set next to your pillow.

"Miguel, it's..." you flick your wrist towards you, when you remember the watch is no longer there. It’s odd how naked you feel without Lyla as your constant companion on your wrist.  

You awkwardly prop yourself up on an elbow with great effort to figure out time the old fashioned way, glancing at the alarm clock on the nightstand. 

In a bright glaring LED, the digits announce: 01:00. 

Past midnight?! Has he lost his mind?

"It's one in the morning! Why are you waking me up after midnight!?"

Unbothered by your outrage, he continues to lean across you to drag one of the boxes closer.

 "I'm finally done modifying the parallel universe traversal device, so I got you something to celebrate." 

You blink up at him in surprise. When he said he’d be done soon, you didn’t think he meant tonight. 

“It’s from that place you wanted Stark to take you," he says, opening the box one-handed to reveal a gaudy looking golden donut waiting for you.

Then he drags the second box over, setting it next to the first and flips the lid open. Inside are half a dozen cinnamon-sugared donuts.

"And these are regular old donuts, from the Lower East Side for fifty cents each. We can do a comparison test. If that ugly golden donut is tastier, I’ll chop off my arm.”

You snort out a laugh. His one-sided feud with Tony Stark is alive and well you see. You don’t understand why this has become such a point of contention for him. Stark had never actually suggested he was going to get you golden donuts. 

Before you have the chance to dig in, Miguel puts out his hand, palm up, on the mattress in invitation. "Give me your hand first," he instructs.

You oblige him, placing your hand in the middle of his, and he wraps the familiar watch around your wrist. Except it’s not as familiar as you remember it to be. It’s considerably chunkier now to accommodate Stark's arc reactor that sits in the middle and if anything it looks more like a cuff bracelet than a watch.   

But you don’t mind, you’re glad to have the comforting weight of it back on your arm, wrist no longer feeling quite so naked.

“It’s bulkier than I would’ve liked. But there’s no helping how primitive Stark’s tech is,” Miguel snarks, clearly pleased with himself even though the man he’s bitching about isn’t even in the room to hear his clever insults. 

In the gloomy light, the bright blue gem of the arc reactor shines back at you like a precious jewel. If you didn’t know better, you’d think you were wearing jewelry fit for royalty. 

"I like this upgrade on the watch. It’s pretty.”

"Not a watch," Miguel corrects, but he's not scolding you. The fondness in his voice is plainly there. 

Looking up you meet his eyes to see the open affection that's there for you. Your face warms under his unwavering attention, until you have to duck your head down, unable to hold his gaze anymore. 

You reach over the bed, to busy yourself, bypassing the golden donut to pick up one of the plain cinnamon ones. In the corner of your eye, you catch his lips curve into a smile as you take a large bite of the regular-non-golden donut. 

He would gloat about that, wouldn’t he, the overgrown childish brat. You grin around the mouthful, as the sugar melts onto the tip of your tongue and you moan loudly at the perfect warm cinnamon that floods your senses. 

Miguel is still smiling at you warmly, face propped in his broad hand as he watches you eat, and the heat in your face reaches an almost feverish pitch under his gaze. 

"So what's next?" you force yourself to ask him over a muffled mouthful to distract yourself. 

"Get some rest, sleep in. We'll take this for a few test drives in the morning to make sure it works the way it's supposed to, and then I'll take you to my home world."

There's a jittery sensation. A mix of exhilaration, excitement and anxiety blending with the sugar in your stomach at the unknown that waits before you. Even though you knew this day was coming since your visit at Wong, now that the time has come you're nervous. 

The only world you’ve ever known is your own. You’re hardly an intrepid traveler. During your gap year in Europe, the use of the metric system was a culture shock for you. You can't even begin to imagine what it'll be like to travel to another alternate reality.

But you’re going to have to do it—and keep doing it, if Wong is correct.

Will you need to get a whole new wardrobe to fit in with the fashion trends of each universe? Will you have to learn new languages? Will there be a thousand sets of unfamiliar customs and quirks you’ll have to learn to adapt to? 

…Will Miguel be there for any of it?

Biting down on your lip, you try to stave off the tight knot in your stomach. 

One thing that's become clear is that even if Miguel takes you to his world, you won’t be able to stay there for very long. You aren’t going to be able to stay anywhere for very long. 

Even if he intends to give you Lyla for good or build you another device that allows you to jump from world to world... what then?

Will he come with you? 

Or will you be left to travel by yourself from one unknown world to another?

The loneliness of that fate makes your stomach hurt. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit that you want him to come with you more than anything, but you have no right to ask that of him. Not after everything he’s already done for you. 

Like he can read your mind, Miguel gives you an appraising look.

"Once we're in Nueva York, we'll stay there for as long as it's safe," Miguel says, leaning across your lap to snag a donut from the box next to you for himself, and you try to ignore the heat that goes skittering through your leg when his arm brushes past your knee. "Then we'll jump to the next location."

You watch him scarf the cinnamony treat down in two mouthfuls, barely chewing. Your heart leaps excitedly until it jumps all the way to your throat. 

"We?"

He grins, crumbs of caramelized sugar dotted on the curve of his lips. "I can't leave you by yourself, can I?"

Your mouth opens and closes, then opens again and you leave it there, hanging in the air, probably looking incredibly dumb and speechless. 

You don’t know what to say to him. Don’t think there are adequate words in the English dictionary capable of expressing how happy it makes you to know that you’ll have him by your side. 'Thank you' seems incredibly lacking.

Somehow despite that you are both sitting down, he still dwarfs you and from your seated position you barely come up to his shoulders. You don’t quite know why you do it, but you move before you think, getting to your knees to lean up and place a small kiss on his cheek. 

A faint pink tinges his cheeks at the small contact. Then it’s his turn to duck down. He scoots over, bringing the smaller donut box closer to you. 

"Eat your golden donut," he says.

You peer up at him. The way his mouth pulls into a tiny and almost shy smile, and happiness buzzes in your chest at the sight.

A dopey smile spreads across your cheeks as you watch him. The way he rubs one broad hand over his jaw to hide his reddening face from you.

Taking the box from him, you look down at the shiny pastry. If your words are failing you, maybe food can speak for you instead. You pick up the golden donut in your hand and hold it out to him.

“You go first,” you offer.

There’s not a second of hesitation from Miguel. He leans down and takes a large bite of the gilded pastry, fangs first, puncturing the soft, squishy dough. 

The whole thing bursts, and you squeal with laughter as the champagne flavored jelly filling squirts across his bottom lip, onto your fingers and drips onto the sheets below. 

“Miguel, you’re making a complete mess!”

You lick up the sticky jam from your fingers as you watch him. There’s dust of gold smudging against his cheeks and even on his nose as he takes another bite. You’re tittering with amusement at the sight of him. 

“Here you got some–” you bring your thumb to help him wipe at the corner of his mouth.

For a man who doesn’t like casual touches, sneering even at the idea of handshakes as a greeting at work, he doesn’t seem to mind yours.

Miguel lets you rub off the flecks of gold from his cheek, eyes dropping half-closed in contentment. His jaw moves under your hand as his mouth drops open, then he presses his lips to the inside of your palm. 

It’s a barely there touch, but it has warmth furl from the middle of your stomach and blooms outward, spreading to the rest of you. 

In this gigantic Wyoming king-sized bed, Miguel is seated close enough to you that your knees touch. He’s close. So close that you can feel the heat rolling off of his big body.

Somehow that's not close enough, because you close the remaining distance between you, until your knee is pressed against the firm inside of his thigh, his broad shoulders brush against yours. 

It wouldn’t take much now. If you leaned up at this moment. If you tilted your head upwards even slightly. Your lips would be on his.  

You shouldn’t, the small voice in your head warns. Kissing him is probably not a good idea.

He might not feel the same. Kissing him might change something irreparably between you, and then who will you travel the outer limits of the universe with? 

But... if you're going to die tomorrow or the next day or next week, then what does it all matter anyhow? What’s a little bit of rejection when the end of the world is hiding right behind the next corner. 

You tilt up and press your lips to his top lip, then the full lower one. It’s chaste and brief, and only lasts for a second. But for a first time it’s familiar and intimate in a way that it can only be with you and Miguel. 

His lips are warm and dry and slightly open under the press of yours and it sends a fluttering warmth from the tip of your nose to the end of your fingertips. 

You pull back with the tiniest movement, nose still brushing against his, as you gather the courage to look up at his face and try to find out if you just made a terrible mistake. 

Those scarlet eyes are staring down at you in that familiar way you catch him doing sometimes. When he thinks you're not paying attention to him and his eyes lingers on your face.

His thumb catches behind your ear, face inching closer, and then he’s kissing you back. It’s sweet and electric, the sensation surges through you with a giddiness that makes your toes curl. 

Miguel presses his lips to yours and holds you there. Long consecutive kisses that don't let you pull up for air. His other hand gently cups your face, thumb stroking the apple of your cheeks like you’re the most precious thing his big hands has ever held. 

You want this to last, that it could always be like this. You want it to be you and him. 

This man who brings you cupcakes when you’re crying. Who saves you the best portion of the food that he likes even though he’s a glutton. Who folds you paper flowers and leaves them on your desk to make you smile when you’re having a bad day at work. A man who stays by your side through the end of the world and never asks you for anything in return.

You love him. 

One large hand covers the back of your neck. He tilts you back, like he’s trying to shield and protect you as he holds you. Holds you like he’s never going to let go. 

Then he stops. 

Why is he stopping? 

He stiffens above you, the whole of his back tensing. You chase his lips but he is already pulling back and away from you. 

Your eyes open to the muted darkness of the room. 

In front of you, Miguel is looking at you with an expression you can't pin down. Eyes wide, and distracted. For a terrifying moment, you think that the look on his face is one of regret. 

Maybe he realized he doesn’t feel that way about you after all. Maybe he's trying to find a way to let you down gently.

You pull back and study his face.

No… it’s not that. 

His expression is the same distant look he had two seconds before a helicopter crashed into your apartment. The same tension in his eyes that will have him hauling you into his arms to protect you from a rogue vehicle. The same pinch in his brow when he’ll stop a conversation with you mid-sentence because the ceiling is about to cave in and he needs to push you out of harm’s way. 

Something is wrong. 

A cold sliver of fear crawls up your spine as Miguel’s face turns, and he stares into the empty space of the room beyond the bed. 

There’s speck of pink spilling onto the sheets on your lap like the color of the sun on stained glass from the outside. 

You follow his gaze in the direction of the radiant dusk pouring in from the window. 

It’s too bright for one A.M, enough to be blinding. 

Pulling away the quilt from your body, you slide out of bed and walk towards the brightness pouring in from the outside until you’re standing in front of the wide glass panes of the balcony.

You look up at the sky, and it’s not the familiar calm midnight-blue. There are vivid streaks of fluorescent pink and glowing purple staining the sky. There are fractures in the sky like someone took a sledge hammer to it and cracked it wide open.

The cityscape looks like it is folding onto itself. Skyscrapers, bridges, and streets are contorted and warped like badly-folded origami. The impossible architecture reminds you of a M.C Escher painting you saw on a school trip at MoMA as a child.

Outside, the pavements of New York is mirrored where the sky is supposed to be. Silhouettes of skyscrapers spring out from below and above and the vast sky is wedged between. Up is down and down is up and nothing makes sense anymore. 

You've seen this scene take place before, when you were under Wong's multidimensional spell.

Your universe is starting to collapse. 

The end of the world is here. You’ve officially run out of time. 

~ Next Issue

Dedications & Credits:

To @guruan for her endless kindness and incredibly talented. I cannot thank her enough for the art she gifts me with that constantly inspires my little squirrel brain and drives me to write like I am possessed.

And @thirstworldproblemss my babe, my bestie, my moose! Thank you for always being there with your pretty face!! I adore and love you, our friendship and time together brings me endless joy. Thank you for going on this ride with me.

[gabessquishytum]

Time and Night Endless have a problem. Their darling son Dream has been dating a man completely not of their class, a shameless and uncouth ruffian, by the name of Hob Gadling. While they did make their disapproval known, they were inclined to leave it at that, as surely this was merely a rebellious phase on Dream’s part; at some point he would come to his senses, end the relationship, and settle down with someone more suitable.

Except they have heard through the family grapevine that not only has Dream not come to his senses, but he is in fact planning on proposing to the dreadful man. That he has in fact purchased a ring already! Clearly something must be done.

They arrange a private meeting with Hob and offer him fifty-thousand pounds to break up with their son before the proposal, preferably publicly enough that they can be sure he did it, and so it decreases the likelihood of reconciliation.

Hob only hesitates for a moment before agreeing.

Time and Night walk away from the meeting feeling incredibly smug that they’ve saved their dear son from an inappropriate relationship with a blatant gold digger.

Hob walks away from the meeting pulling out his phone to call Dream. “Hey love, how would you like to con your parents out of a shit ton of money?”

Three days later, Dream and Hob have a giant blow-up fight in the middle of a friendly gathering—Desire was there filming the whole thing and had gleefully uploaded it to every social media platform they have, so the Endless parents can see for themselves. It’s pretty ugly: there’s accusations of cheating, loud negative allusions to their sex life, Dream even throws in a “my mother was right about you” for good measure. It’s a goddamn disaster of a shouting match that ends in the world's messiest breakup.

Time and Night would be horrified by the scandal if they weren’t so pleased with the results. Hob Gadling may not be an acceptable partner for one of their children, but at least he certainly does deliver. They wire the money to him with absolutely no remorse, considering it money well-spent.

A week later, a new video is uploaded to Hob and Dream’s social media accounts: the two of them side-by-side, leaning into each other's touch like love-drunk teenagers, fingers entwined and sporting beautiful engagement rings, as they announce their reconciliation and engagement.

“Communication has always been the key to a successful relationship, and all we really needed to do was sit down and talk to each other like adults. Any issues we may have had have been resolved, and if it weren't for the people close to us who didn't want to see us fall apart, we might not be here today,” Hob says, grinning ear to ear. 

“I would particularly like to offer my greatest, most heartfelt thanks for our upcoming marriage to my parents,” Dream says with an evil glint in his eye. “They not only engineered our reconciliation, they selflessly gave fifty-thousand pounds of their own money to help pay for the wedding and honeymoon. We can't thank them for their kindness and support enough.”

Hob then grabs his fiance and dips him before kissing the life out of him, and that’s where the video ends.

Night faints and Time breaks a priceless vase.

(Desire also gleefully shares this video on the same platforms as the first one, and helpfully tags their parents with it to boot. It was actually fun scheming with their brother for the first time in a long time, and they may or may not be planning to stitch the two videos together into a small tasteful movie as a wedding present (and perhaps providing a copy to their parents as well))

-🪽anon

I love the "evil parent offers main character a lot of money to break up with love interest" vibe. Whatever happens you just KNOW its going to end badly for the parents!

And really, they should have known better. Hob is a shameless ruffian and an experienced conman, OF COURSE he was going to pull some kind of trick. He's actually really pleased because he was worried that Dream wouldn't get his perfect wedding, because Hob’s meagre salary won't stretch to a big budget. With the "generous contribution" from mum and dad, Dream can make his gorgeous goth wedding fantasies a reality.

Dream has an amazing time at the fittings for all the wedding outfits, and Desire even has a hand in designing the most gorgeous jumpsuit for Dream to wear at the reception. They're totally invested in this wedding and keep feeding Dream and Hob information about their parents latest plans to sabotage the big day. This leads to Dream getting in touch with their estranged younger brother, who is thrilled to a) be invited to the wedding and b) provide security on the big day! He's built like a brick wall so no attempted shenanigans will get past him.

There won't be any trouble at the wedding, anyway. Hob has a few of his old pals on the job, and they will make sure that the Endless parents are tragically prevented from reaching the venue on time. So sad. Its okay though, because Desire will be putting together a beautiful wedding movie for everyone to watch after the honeymoon!

When asked by their society friends about their new son in law, Night and Time will grit their teeth and smile. He's a very... resourceful man. Not what they'd imagined for Dream, but he seems happy enough. And there was a prenup, so it can't be that bad if (hopefully when) they get a divorce.

Yeah.......they're never getting a divorce!

[shuinami]

Jess and Hobie: their defining strengths + their weaknesses

I had a thought about Hobie while I was writing, have been thinking about Jess for a while and then this post about Miguel came out and it made me kind of want to yap. I'll only talk about Hobie and Jessica here because I'm biased + Peter & Gwen have been talked about a lot + I linked a post about Miguel + Miles & Pav have simpler, more obvious flaws that basically come down to youthful naivety.

I also find it really interesting that their flaws are basically opposites, Hobie's comes from "inconsistency" whilst Jessica's comes from stubbornness. And again, both these flaws come from their greatest strengths.

TL;dr

Jess' defining strength is her resolve when it comes to fighting for what's right and tussling with destiny but it causes her to have a one-track mind, even if it comes to dedicating herself to something wrong (from being misguided).

Hobie's defining strength is his optimism (e.g. anarcho-communism) but the extreme difficulty of pursuing those ideals and the struggle against systems can bring that optimism to a breaking point, causing him to be inconsistent or, more directly, to give up.

I think people forget that Jessica's pregnancy is by design and not just a 'feature' of Jessica Drew as a character. She was deliberately chosen to be represented in this stage of her life and I think it is so important to her character, even if it's not in the traditional way that pregnancy is typically portrayed as in media.

I think her pregnancy shows the kind of person she is: most obviously, it's cold, hard evidence that she's a bamf who takes care of spidey business even while pregnant.

More importantly to me, though, there's an implication that, as her universe's one and only spidey, she has been the one to save the day and been the change she wishes to seek, effectively enough that she feels comfortable bringing a baby into the world.

Unlike someone like Peter, she does not make the choice between bringing her child to work with her or leaving them behind. She just has to do what she needs to do to make sure her kid is safe, there's no failing for her. During her pregnancy, it's always going to be a matter of life and death. Jess is well aware and, instead of shying away from action, she's just committed to not making those kinds of mistakes. To get over her losses. She's going to take charge of her own world's destiny as she has always done and she's going to make sure it's good.

Her strong allegiance to Miguel's ideas is her most glaring flaw to us as an audience because A. we're seeing things through Miles' eyes, she's standing in the way of him saving his father and B. we know that Miguel can't be right about canon events - we know they wouldn't make the movies as bleak as that.

Of course, taking a step back from our perspective, it's also a flaw because she is being antagonistic to a teenager as a grown adult. It might make her seem cold and harsh.

However, Jess was the one to vouch for Gwen, to take her in, even though Miguel didn't want her to and they could have left things up to the web of destiny. Jess trusts her own capabilities but she doesn't trust the world to be kind. She doesn't assume Gwen can handle things just because she can, either. On top of being sympathetic, I think her dedication to being the change she wishes to see is why she accepts Gwen as a student; she trusts that a young girl can make the world a better place too, it's not a thing where she wants to micromanage everything. She just wants to know the multiverse is in safe hands. That's her "great responsibility".

The only reason she is following the anti-Miles agenda is because Miles, as far as she and anybody else in-movie knows, is jeopardising the existence of every universe (insidiously via the holes). Maybe, in another position, say, a bright-eyed teen who mainly worried about high school and puppy love, she would be more willing to risk things, to see how it goes.

She's not in that position though. Her world that she felt confident she had the power to keep safe has been made uncertain. One day, it could just go poof, along with her baby, and she wouldn't be able to stop it in the moment. If she makes the right decision now, if she doesn't make a mistake, she can prevent it. It's understandable that she's going to do whatever it takes to prevent anomalies.

What was the canon event chosen to represent her?

Her version of the moment from "The Final Chapter".

It comes from a story that largely focuses on Peter's personal life before spiralling into action to make up for a mistake that has made Aunt May fatally ill. In the panel, Spider-Man is trapped under machinery with the cure - the thing that will absolve the mistake - just out of reach. As the lair is flooded, drowning is imminent.

Against all odds, though, Spider-Man pushes past what should have killed him and rises to the occasion, with the thoughts of saving Aunt May and refusing to have a repeat of Uncle Ben.

"I won't fail you. No matter what - I won't fail."

Jess has had to handle her own fate as well as her world's. Now that the multiverse is involved, it's not going to stop at her own universe. She has to stop this. She won't fail. As per the dialogue between her and Gwen in ATSV, she's made a mistake before (by getting too close to someone) but she tells Gwen "I got over it". Sounds so savage in the moment but she still gives Gwen a chance to make her own situation right before letting her get kicked off the team. Helping Gwen in spite of the anomaly would be a mistake if she couldn't handle this.

And when the Spot gets away and Miles enters the picture? The gloves come off. It's tempting fate at that point. Jess' no mistakes mindset pushes her to even prepare to roll up on a teenager.*

Her greatest strength is her resolve - I mean, hell, she doesn't let even pregnancy slow her down when it comes to saving the world - but it causes her to be stubborn and leads her down a misguided path.

*By the end of the film, she seems to be questioning Miguel's method, though. On top of the fact that BTSV is obviously going to end on a good note, I think Jess' fight against destiny is going to have her come around in the end as Miles is doing the same thing.

Onto Hobie:

I luv luv luv Hobie as much as everyone else, he's definitely my favourite but I feel he has his flaws too (which tend to make me love my faves more lol).

In fact, I think he says what they are when we first meet him, though they are veiled as jokes.

I find that the audience tends to position him as a perfect distillation of anarcho-communism at its best. I think the teen spideys see him in a similar light; they see him as effortlessly cool & charismatic, a wise mentor figure ("use your palms" + his play fighting with Pavitr featured him taking on the stance of a boxing trainer as Pavitr tried to punch his palms) but he's not like the adult adults - he's relatable, he's cool, he's anarchist, he's not always on their case like Jess and Miguel.

He neither calls himself a hero nor a role model... but he is the perfect hero and role model, right? He's the best! He's the only one who's looking out for Miles and, when Miles is getting chased down by the entire society, what does he do?

He... quits.

Wouldn't that perfect hero we all believe him to be swoop in with his cape, know exactly what to do and save Miles, the underdog? He can't have possibly known Miles would manage against the society and, if he knew it was possible, then why wouldn't he lend a hand? He didn't drop off the watch in Miles' dimension, he gave one to his bestie, Gwen, likely in the scenario that she wanted to quit or got booted because 'it [didn't] work out'.**

I think Hobie's major flaw is his lack of consistency, as he famously said himself.

He has a strong moral code - he believes in the right things for the right reasons... but communism and anarchy are pretty much impossible to properly/entirely employ in a system that is consumerist, capitalist and authoritarian. He riots, he fights, but it's never over. London isn't free. In my experience, people with strong moral compasses tend to have issues with themselves because they hold others to higher standards than most and hold themselves to even higher and impossible standards (think Diane from Bojack Horseman).

One of the first comic panels I encountered of Hobie was him getting real with Captain Anarchy about losing morale because, despite killing President Ozzy Osborne, the face of fascism in his dystopia, nothing changes. He wasn't able to save the world like a hero in a movie or like a proper role model. He 'failed'. When you give your everything and nothing changes, no matter how optimistic, clever or read-up on theory you are, it can be hard to keep going.

And what is chosen as his defining canon event?

His version of Spider-Man quitting in "Spider-Man No More". Rather than being fed up with the world antagonising him as 616 is, Hobie is done with an antagonistic world.

The Hobie/Spider-Punk that has been built up externally, as far as I understand, would never give up. He'd keep raging forever and ever because that's the cool thing to do, because it's the heroic thing to do - because it's the right thing to do.

But under the mask, he's just a teenager, imperfect as any other.

He's still a Spider-Man too. Before the bite, he was another lanky black boy in racist-af, peak National Front, send-the-blacks-and-the-Asians-back, '70s England. He's a nerd, as evidenced by his ability to build such a high-tech watch, especially as a teenager who wouldn't have had access to anything like it until joining the society, meaning he had to pick it up quick. And I'm to think he didn't have any Flash-esque characters in his life? "Come out of it."

As Spider-Man with the mask on, he yells to the rooftops; as Hobie with the mask off, he mumbles and whispers. Sure he looks cool now but people don't tend to come out of the womb as Spider-Punk. On top of that, he's still so young and surely has plenty of room to grow.

I believe he joined the society in earnest, optimistic that he could help the multiverse but eventually reached his limits with actively facilitating death and trauma, with saving the multiverse not meaning freedom in his own universe, with being shackled to the web of destiny. I'm not convinced he made the watch in one day; I think he had been planning on quitting for some time and was waiting for the right moment (as he also wanted to support Gwen because friendship is important to him). That's why he tries to dissuade Miles from joining but, when he does leave, he doesn't go out in a riot, he doesn't even leave knowing that Miles has people on his side other than him. Hobie just quits.

I think his greatest strength is his optimism (his anarcho-communism & adamance about "love, joy and freedom" as per the un-permitted performance art pieces in his montage) but he's smart and he's been through shit - he isn't naive like Pavitr or Miles - the great heights of that optimism lead to intensely low lows.

**(I don't really see why or how he would have been able to predict everything that happened in the chase. I know that the watch is set to 1610 but if Hobie believed Miles would make it out of 928 and get back to 1610, would that not be things 'working out'? Or did he predict that he would get to the go-home machine but was the only one who considered that he would be sent to the place his spider came from. Why? And why wouldn't he set the watch to 42 if he knew Miles wouldn't be in 1610? I feel like the 1610 on the interface is just there to be there and that Hobie gave Gwen the watch so she could have the freedom to leave 65 if she wanted to, in the event that she quit the society because they captured Miles or because Miguel kicked her out as Jess kept warning.)

[actuallysaiyan]

Hi again!

Here are the requests for DBZ that I mentioned in my previous ask!

Feel free to write them when you want/can!!!

Dating Vegeta would include headcanon

Dating Future!Trunks would include headcanon

Dating Android 17 would include headcanon

Dating Goku would include headcanon

These headcans can be just SFW or both SFW and NSFW.

It doesn’t really matter to me!

warnings: smut, oral sex(fem and male receiving), mentions of trauma, possessiveness, protectiveness, fluff, vaginal fingering, possible mentions of violence word count: 1.7k pairings: Vegeta x Fem!Reader, Future Trunks x Fem!Reader, Android 17 x Fem!Reader and Son Goku x Fem!Reader a/n: I didn't know if you wanted it all in one post, but I figured it was easier for me to do it like this! I hope you really enjoy!!!

SFW

Don’t expect much in terms of romance. He’s not that kind of man. But don’t fret, he will always be there to protect you and defend your honor.

If you show him any kind of affection, he’ll be so flustered and not sure how to handle it. Usually he gets quite irritated, but in reality he’s loving it so much. He wants you to be soft with him.

That being said, if you were to argue with him and fight as well, he’ll be so happy and so turned on. Saiyans do enjoy a feisty lover and they want to feel challenged.

But Vegeta doesn’t always want to fight. He wants domesticity as well and wants to feel loved just as much as anyone else. Show him the softness of a human lover and he will always come home to you for more affection.

He might surprise you sometimes by offering affection of his own. He’ll be red faced and stuttering, but he’ll offer you his heart and soul when he realizes you’re the one for him. You’ve got a lover for life. NSFW

Vegeta wasn’t the most experienced when you first met him, and he was so shy and flustered the first time you tried initiating anything intimate. His hands fumbled and his mouth felt dry and his brain was blank.

With time, he found the right rhythm and touches just for you. He figured out exactly what you like and became the best at pleasuring you. Even if you are more experienced than him, he shows you just how much he enjoys pleasuring you.

Despite what you initially thought, Vegeta loves to give more than receive. He really loves being between your thighs, tongue gliding so perfectly against your wet folds. He drinks up your nectar like it’s the nectar of the gods.

Vegeta enjoys many different positions, but his favorites are doggy and mating press. Both for different reasons as well, considering they give him different kinds of control and feeling.

Sometimes he enjoys sensual, slow sex where you both take your time pleasuring each other. Most of the time his pace is rough and animalistic. He’s very loud during sex, lots of growling and grunting. 

SFW

He’s so considerate of your feelings, but at times he can be flaky and miss dates. He’s not always the most focused when it comes to those kinds of things, but just know he really means well and never wants you to feel abandoned.

He likes to surprise you with cutesy things. He’ll make you a bouquet of wildflowers, draw you something he knows you find cute, make you a playlist of songs that remind him of you.

Trunks will always have your back no matter what. He will defend you with his life. You are the greatest thing to ever happen to him and he won’t let you slip out of his grasp no matter what.

He enjoys spending quiet time with you. You two can be seen cuddling in his bedroom, watching a movie you’ve both seen a million times over. Or you can be in the forest together, walking around and enjoying nature.

He’s big on romantic gestures and often uses them to excuse his flakiness. He’ll plan romantic dates for you even if it’s not always available to either of you because of the way the world is in your future. Trunks wants you to be so happy either way.

NSFW

He’s good with his hands. Trunks enjoys massaging your whole body first to really get you so relaxed and loose for him. Then he likes to suck on your nipples while he fingers you slowly. You’ll be dribbling all over his hand before long.

He’s obsessed with your scent. It could be part of his Saiyan instincts that kick in, but he loves your natural scent. He rubs himself against you just to get more of it on him. And the scent that comes from your pussy makes him drunk on you.

Trunks likes to act tough sometimes, but he absolutely crumbles if you give him a blowjob. He can barely look down at you as you have your lips wrapped around him because the scene is much too erotic for him to handle.

He’s a big fan of lingerie! Get dressed up for him and show off your body in those silky, lacy bits of clothing for him. He’ll spend so long just admiring your beautiful body and undressing you ever so slowly.

Trunks loves pulling out and cumming all over your ass or pussy. He enjoys looking at you with his seed all over your body parts. If you ask him to cum on your face during a blowjob, he’ll bust right then and there. He views it as marking you up.

SFW

He’s awkward at first. He doesn’t truly believe you’ve got feelings for him. He’s done so much bad in life, he figures his chance at romance was over. But when you show him softness, he’s melting.

Give him time to blossom and he’ll become the perfect boyfriend. He enjoys the closeness of being your boyfriend. He wants you to rely on him whenever you can. He’ll show you he can be so reliable.

Android 17 comes with a lot of baggage, and he never wants to open up about it. He’s ashamed of his past. But from time to time, when he does open up to you, please listen to him. The more you listen without judgment, he will be more open to telling you about his past this way.

If you were to play with his hair while kissing him, he’d be so flustered. His cheeks would be so pink and he’d look away. But he absolutely loves it when you play with his hair and kiss him so softly.

He worries a lot whenever he can’t be around you to protect you. He’s vowed to protect you for the rest of his life. It’s a way for him to cope with what he’s done and how to continue to live for a cause that’s worth it.

NSFW

Android 17 has an obsession with cumming inside of you. When he learned that his sister had a baby, he became a man who was relentless with trying to have his own baby. If you don’t want kids, make sure you get on some sort of birth control.

He loves slow and passionate sex more than fast and rough sex. Being able to take his time with you is the best feeling in the world. He’ll be in missionary position, your legs wrapped around him and all he can think about is how happy he is.

He’s big on kissing you slowly and letting it build into something else. Making out makes him hard like a horny teenager. There’s just something about your warm tongue rubbing against his that makes him dangerously close to busting in his pants.

He may need aftercare after sex. It takes a lot out of him emotionally, so just lay there with him and play with his hair and enjoy the pillowtalk. If it gets too intense in his mind, you can just kiss him and get on top again to let him fuck away the pain.

Android 17 loves to go on and on and on for hours. He’ll exhaust you with his stamina. He is a fucking machine, literally and he uses that to his advantage all of the time. Just remember your safe word!

SFW

He’s not the most clever when it comes to love, but he knows how to show you his affection through actions rather than words. He may come across as really dumb a lot of the time, but he surprises you.

You can expect cute little gestures often. He’ll give you wildflowers, hunt you an animal for you to cook, or even just pull you into his arms after a battle to kiss you all over your face.

Goku is so possessive and protective. Nobody is going to get between you two. He’s going to show anyone who’s interested that you and him are so close and nobody can ever break you up. 

He’s got to have at least one hand on your body at all times whenever he’s near you. He’s also big on hand holding and wrapping his arm around you to keep you close to him as you two are out walking.

Doesn’t always know how to be the most romantic and he might actually ask for advice from Bulma to show him the right things to do or say during a date. He cleans up really good too and looks amazing in a suit. It’s not his favorite thing to do, but he’d do it for you.

NSFW

Goku is needy and wants to fuck all the time. Sometimes it’s even when it’s an inappropriate time. You’ll need to try and get him to behave as much as possible. But sometimes he just wants to shove his hands down your pants and feel your wet cunt against his large fingers.

He loves fast, wild and sloppy sex. Sloppy and wet kisses, snapping his hips so fast and hard, bruising grip against your hips, leaving scratch marks down his back as you try to hold on as best as you can.

Goku eats pussy like it’s his last meal. He devours you like you’re the only flavor he wants on his tongue forever. He’s really good at it too, using his instincts to figure out exactly what you like in terms of getting head.

His fingers slide so deep inside you, reaching places you didn’t even know could be reached just with fingers. He holds you on his lap, fingers deep inside you curling against that sweet spot as his thumb rubs against your swollen nub.

He’s messy with cumming. It’s always a bit inside and a bit outside, just messing up your pussy with his seed. He loves to play with it afterwards, pushing it back into you and then smearing it all over your clit. He’ll easily make you cum again like this after he’s had an intense orgasm of his own.

[lilithtransrights]

I don't think we talk enough about how stupid the demand for apolitical media is. I'm not just talking about the right wing idiots that call every piece of media woke for even daring to include a character that doesn't fit their small group of people they tolerate but also the idea that media can be apolitical.

I do and have always believed that it's nearly impossible to not include your own personal beliefs and world views in your art. Most of these views are just so commonly accepted that we don't really think about them. For example sharing and taking care of those in need is seen as the moral correct thing to do by almost every human, or well at least it is theory. To some degree you might even project your own views on the media you're currently observing and might interpret things differently from someone with a different view.

I've always loved that part of media discussion. Looking at the little things an author, director, musician or artist would include in their art and thinking about why they did it in that specific way. Why did they design the interior of this character's office in this way? Was it coincidentally? Does it reflect the personality of the character? Why did the musician pick that specific cord progression? And don't tell me they just did it because it sounded good, there was a way they wanted you to feel when you heard it.

My favorite example of people going all the way in recent years is the movie Pig. Nothing in that movie feels coincidental. It feels like Michael Sarnoski and Vanessa Block put a lot of thought into their character's personalities, how they would behave in different situations or what kind of car they would drive. And that movie perfectly highlights how pretentious the food industry has gotten.

And fuck it I'm going there, the creator isn't the final authority on how their work is interpreted. Like I already said your work is influenced by the world around you, your personal beliefs and your morals. Stop trying to tell your audience how your work was meant and make sure you put enough thought into it so that they'll realize it themselves.

In the same motion stop looking for validation from the creator for your theories. Your theory might be based on your personal experiences or your expectations and the way you therefore view their art and discussing this with others is some of the greatest joy in my opinion.

Also include more trans people in your work and make them kiss. That's my final message.

[yokohamapound]

howdy! can we get some hcs for ranpo, chuuya, and akutagawa missing (or forgetting) their s/o’s birthday?

FungusWitch: Hello! My best bish, UnluckyAmulet, has once again graced us with a guest post of delicious headcanons, so I hope you enjoy!

Please check out her AO3! She also writes for Bleach, BNHA, Durarara, Dangan Ronpa, and JJK, among others!

Characters: Edogawa Ranpo, Nakahara Chuuya, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

Contains: NSFW, birthday sex, bondage

Edogawa Ranpo

Of the three, Ranpo is far and away the smartest, in both intellect and emotional intelligence. It's very unlikely you can hide how you feel about him missing your birthday from him - even if you haven't been dating Ranpo for long, if you're his s/o, he knows you. He can read your mood like a 3-D pop-up book. It's disconcerting but also oddly comforting.

It is very unlikely he forgot your birthday - it's more probably that he was doing a job for the Armed Detective Agency and got so wrapped up in it that he temporarily set aside everything else until it was finished. When Ranpo is chasing an interesting case it's nigh on impossible to get him to focus on anything else.

Once his hyperfixation ends, though, he does feel a little guilty. You ARE the s/o to the World's Greatest Detective, after all, so logically that means you ought to be celebrated! He gets right to it, roping in poor hapless Atsushi and other members of the Agency into decorating the office for your birthday. Of course he knows what gift you want (and probably makes Atsushi, Kunikida or someone go out and actually buy it. What? He'd get lost if he had to take the train to the mall!) He still takes credit when you praise him for being so thoughtful.

Ranpo tends to be a little lazy and spoiled, but for you, on your special day, he very nobly puts that aside to spoil you for a change. You wanna go do something fun like visit an amusement park or go to a concert? Great! He'll have Fukuzawa pay for tickets! You want to do something more lowkey, maybe chilling at home cuddling and watching movies with him? Awesome, he'll get popcorn! You wanna go out partying and getting shitfaced? Well…he's not much of a drinker, but he'll still come with to dance with you and hold your hair back when you puke. (He'll make Fukuzawa come pick your drunk ass up.)

And don't forget a long, long night of some truly incredible oral - Ranpo's best asset in the bedroom is that tongue of his, so he's going to go to town on you~

Remember to lavish him with praise over what a great boyfriend he is. He needs the validation, okay?

Nakahara Chuuya

With Chuuya he was probably doing a mission for Mori and simply didn't have time to be there or he did forget. His way of making it up to you is simple - gifts. Chuuya is very wealthy thanks to being a high-ranking Port Mafia agent, so whatever you want is yours. That new Prada bag? Done. You want a spa day with all the works? Already booked. Fanciest resturaunt in town? He can just waltz in and get a table whenever he wants.

This may sound all fine and great, but Chuuya may not immediately notice how you're feeling about him missing your birthday - he'll apologise but in a "Oops, sorry, babe!" kind of way and you'll have to be upfront with him if you're actually upset. Chuuya does have a bit of a bad habit of buying your affection when he's too busy to spend time with you, because he's used to people depending on him and being seen as a provider. If you like gift-giving as a love language then you might not consider this an issue, but he does somewhat use his money to assuage feeling guilty and avoid discussing it because he doesn't like seeing you upset.

Also, Chuuya has no memories of before he was seven years old and I doubt very much he got to celebrate his birthdays much when he was running around Suribachi with the Sheep. Sure, he can afford to go ham for his birthday now, and his subordinates gives him gifts (Koyo always buys him wine), but he might not quite grasp the emotional significance of birthdays. Sit him down and explain to him that you appreciate the gifts, but you want him, YOUR BOYFRIEND to be with you, not a credit card.

To make it up to you, Chuuya will give you a birthday fuck that goes on all night. If you have a position or kink you haven't got around to requesting from Chuuya, now's the time, because he intends to make you feel so good you can barely walk the next day.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

I'm gonna be honest, Akutagawa is not particularly understanding or sympathetic. At least, not right away.

He grew up in the slums with his kid sister, surviving off scraps and learning to fight from a very young age. Akutagawa likely had no concept of what a 'birthday' even was except just being another year he's managed to survive in the hellhole he was born into. Even now he's an adult and can afford to do whatever he wants to celebrate if he so chooses, he's not a very birthday person. He always buys a gift for Gin and will get something for his superiors as a token of respect (because it's expected of him), and he'll begrudgingly tell Higuchi "happy birthday", but overall he doesn't consider them that important. He does appreciate being given gifts, but doesn't think of them as a necessity.

So if you get upset or angry with him, he's liable to bite back at first. Akutagawa has trouble apologising because he was never apologised to when he was treated poorly, so he's generally not good at owning up to his mistakes. Like Chuuya, you need to explain to him that even if he doesn't place much importance on birthdays, you do and it hurts you that he doesn't seem to care.

That will get to him. For as grumpy and quick to violence as he is, he does care about his s/o greatly and he doesn't want to lose you. He doesn't even know why you love him in the first place, but he isn't willing to throw your whole relationship away over something trivial like this. So, he'll treat you to whatever you want. He's got the money to really spoil you and he doesn't take much time off, so he'll be able to free up his schedule. (Gin will also remind him next time or help him set up a reminder on his phone so he doesn't miss it in future.)

Try not to force him to come clubbing or some other loud, crowded activity. He won't refuse because he feels bad, but he'll ruin the mood by brooding in the corner like a wilting plant and he gets overstimulated and grouchy quite quickly. But he doesn't mind treating you to a posh meal or going on a holiday or something like that.

I hope you don't mind being tied up, because once somebody explains to Akutagawa the concept of birthday sex, he will go find you immediately and use Rashomon to hold you still for hours while he works you over - that's one birthday tradition he doesn't consider frivolous~

[cloudseeker14]

Wistful Dreams (Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader)

Summary : A good friendship is something that is rare for even the strongest sorcerer in the world to come across. Surely, he'd do anything to keep it, right? Even if his heart was screaming otherwise.

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

TW: Angst with sad ending

Gojo Satoru had never doubted himself of being strong. He could bring down entire hordes of curses with just a snap of his fingers, a mere mention of his name would have the enemies of the Jujitsu world trembling with terror.

Yet, when he saw you, with your wild laughter and the way it rang in his ears like the most melodious tune, he felt weakened.

"Toru, you have no idea how bad that date was!" You chuckle, plopping onto the couch "I don't know what Shoko was thinking setting me up with him, the poor dude was straight up trying to worship the very ground I walk on to get in my pants."

Toru, a nickname that only you had shared for him. The sound of it from your lips, how it seemed to bewitch every single sense of his, Satoru wanted to bottle it up just to keep hearing it again and again.

"Oh yeah?" Satoru grabbed a bowl of popcorn and say next to you, grinning "Well, do you know what can be better than some date you can have with any of those dudes?"

"Let me guess, that popcorn you generously have in your hands right now?" You asked, lips curling into smile.

A part of Satoru wanted to scream that it was him. He could be better than any of those idiots you went out to see. Afterall, how could he not be when he knew every single aspect of you as well as the back of his hand?

Would anyone else know all your favourite shows and books? Would they know exactly how you like your tea, the type of bands you enjoy or how to hug you tight while you weep into their shoulder?

"Yeah and this new thriller movie that's been released." Satoru' eyes gleamed with mischeif but the pang in his chest still remained.

You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead dramatically. "Toru, you know I hate horror!"

The blue eyed man chuckled at your plight. "You can keep whining all you want, but if I say we are watching The Shining, then that's the only damn thing that's going to be playing on the TV tonight."

You rolled your eyes with mock offense and playfully jabbed him in the shoulder, an ordinary routine for you which still succeeded in elciting a deep stirring of longing in Satoru heart.

How would it feel to hold you close, whisper all the frantic thoughts that have been running through his head for years in your ear?

Would your lips taste as sweet as how he imagined them in his dreams?

"You do know that you might be the Jujitsu world's biggest asshole, right?" You leaned over and grabbed some popcorn from Satoru as he grabbed the TV remote, shaking it annoyingly in front of your face.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Satoru smiled, but there was a strange softness in his expression that went unnoticed to your gaze.

It was for the best that you didn't notice because Satoru knew, deep down in the icy depths of his pride and arrogance that was bellowing at him to just tell you, that you deserved a man better than him.

You deserved someone who could give all their time to you. Someone who would usher you away from all the dangers of the world of curses, not someone like him whose very companionship would mean facing countless trials with curses determined to find the weakness of the greatest Jujitsu sorcerer.

By just being a sorcerer yourself, you came home beaten up every weekend from all the curses out for your blood. Being his would be equivalent to signing a death warrant, you'd never get a moment of peace for your whole life.

Satoru couldn't do that to you.

The movie went on for a few hours and with every scream that escaped your lips from all the blood and gore, each time your arm unknowingly brushed against his own, Satoru had to mentally restrain himself from just kissing you right then and there.

Once the movie was over, Satoru sat with you and listened to your remarks, resting his head on his hand.

"And that scene where blood just spurted from the sink was crazy!" You exclaimed animatedly "I'll admit it, this movie was better than what I expected!"

"Now this is why you should have some trust in me when it comes to movies." Satoru said smugly, adoration filling his soul itself as he drunk in your glee.

He couldn't allow himself to be too close to you, not if it meant endangering your life and health. Just being your friend and a part of your life would be enough if it meant just getting to be around you. Even if every thought in his body protested at the sight of you being set up on dates, though his own mind betrayed himself every night with indulgent fantasies of you, he'd make himself be satisfied with just being your friend.

Gojo Satoru could never have a weakness, especially not one as disadvantageous as a lover.

--

Satoru walked through the campus of Jujtisu High, aimlessly going through his phone after returning from one of his missions. It'd been quite simple and hadn't even succeeding in piquing the tiniest bit of his interest.

"God know why they needed me for something so simple." Gojo muttered to himself and put his phone in the pocket of his pants "I swaer to god, it's almost as if they're trying to keep me-"

All his words fell short, lodging in his throat as he saw a sight that he'd been dreading forever. There you were, stunning as always with your face perfectly framed by the setting sun as you kissed some man deeply, your fingers tangled in the locks of his black hair as you pressed your body against his chest.

Gojo Satoru could only continue watching in horror as the man placed his hands firmly on your hips with such familiarity and pulled you closer. At that moment, Satoru didn't even knew who the hell that man was but he could clearly witness that you both fit against each other like missing pieces of a puzzle.

He saw you pull away, your face flushed and lips pink from the ministrations of your lover as you giggled, not even noticing Satoru's presence in your gaze.

Gojo Satoru, for the first time in his life, walked away. He turned on his heel and continued walking in the opposite direction as the bottom of his lips trembled.

What else should he have expected? Of course you'd have someone in your life, someone who'd make you happy in all the ways he couldn't.

He knew that this had been inevitable, but goddamnit the tears that were unashamedly welling up in his eyes paid no heed to that fact.

--

There are certain moments in life where one must control the whirlwind of regrets in their heart.

Gojo Satoru could recall experiencing this when you introduced your boyfriend to him, all smiles and laughter. Your lover had firmly shook Satoru's hand, speaking bashfully of how amazing you are.

When you and your boyfriend looked at each other, as much as Satoru cursed the sight before him in his head, he couldn't deny the attraction between the two of you.

One you obviously didn't share for him.

But the day his very strength, his arrogance and pride as a sorcerer died within him and burnt to ashes on a pyre was when he saw you walk down the aisle.

You'd given him the invitation, practically brimming with joy and blissfully unaware of the tumultuous mirage of emotions as his heart and mind engaged in a tense conflict with each other.

Gojo Satoru felt breathless as you walked down the aisle, absolutely radiant in your wedding dress.

Satoru knew you were beautiful, but at that moment with the way your hair was let down, how the dress clutched your curves and the wind which gently made your veil flutter in the wind, he couldn't deny that you were the most stunning woman that could ever grace his eyes.

As you continued walking ahead, a small part of Satoru wanted you to look at him for just an instant. To give him a sign, anything that you suddenly didn't want this. That he could whisk you away even if he could never fully give himself to you.

But your gaze was far ahead, eyes only for the man soon to be your husband and in all your awe, you didn't even spare a single second for Gojo Satoru.

Satoru's hands trembled as he forced himself to stare at the ground, unable to look any longer. If gods did exist in this world of vicious curses, Satoru was helplessly praying to ones he'd never believed in just for all this to turn out to be a figment of his imagination.

"Y/N, do you take this man as your husband and swear to stay by his side during sickness and health, during all the moments of happiness and sadness that life will have to offer the both of you?"

Satoru forced himself to look up and he could swear that he could feel his heart shatter like glass thrown forcefully against a pavement once he saw you nod your head, tears of joy running down your face. "Yes, of course I do." You clasped your hands, eyes brimming with excitement of the prospects that awaited you in the future.

Unbeknownst to you, there was someone else who was crying in the altar with you. It wasn't your husband, who instead chose to gently caress your face and wipe away your tears with his rough, calloused hand. It wasnt your mother or any of your family members, who were all rather elated at witnessing you during this moment.

It was Gojo Satoru, tears streaming down his face as he bit down the inside of his cheek to choke down the sobs that threatened to spill from his lips. Thankfully, no one noticed him. How could they, when you could simply steal everyone's breath away with a simple flick of your hand?

"Does anyone have any objections?" The priest asked and all the guests smiled cheekily, this was just a mere formality that no one ever adhered to.

But for Satoru, those words seemed to awaken a sense of courage he didn't even know existed to him. Proclamations of love and longing, of how he knew that he could make you happy made its way to the tip of his tongue, only to crumble away as he saw your expression of delight as you gazed into the eyes of the man you loved.

Gojo Satoru was a man of many spades, he was nonchalant, full of himself and always determined to get what he wants.

But he couldn't bring himself to be the villain of your love story, not if it meant seeing that smile disappear from your face on your special day.

"Then I pronounce you husband and wife!" The priest proclaimed, the chance for Satoru to open the dam of emotions that had been welling up within him for years vanishing with just those simple words.

Satoru's eyes never left your face as your husband wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close. Even then, Satoru couldnt let go of the countless 'what ifs' in his head.

What if he'd been selfish and allowed himself to love you? Would he have been the one to be by your side as your husband instead? Would he have been given the honor of waking up to you each morning and falling asleep with you in his arms? Would the two of you have grown old together after having stepped away from the chaos of the Jujitsu world?

A part of him died inside as your gently cupped your husband's face and pressed your lips against his, hues of pink subtly dusting over your cheeks.

You and your husband pulled apart and you squealed as you were lifted into the sky by his strong arms.

At that instant, a cruel realisation dawned upon Satoru.

This was his price for being the strongest, as much as he devoted himself to the entire Jujtisu world, the few people who knew him beyond just the facade of the cocky sorcerer would keep being snatched away from him by fate.

A lonely life was all that awaited him and the words that he desperately wanted to scream would remain locked within the closure of his heart.

I love you.

Those words would never be heard, instead they would only be replaying in his head for nights to come as he'd toss and turn at the thought of you enjoying a sweet life with another man, even though all he wanted was to be the one for you.

There'd be nights where he'd curse the entirely of Jujitsu, detesting his destiny that had been set in stone from the instant he'd been born.

But all of that meant nothing when he saw how you smiled, exactly like the way which had enchanted him when the two of you had first met as you walked up to him, arm in arm with your husband.

And in that fleeting moment, Gojo Satoru smiled back wryly, the gesture a broken attempt at trying to brush aside the throbbing of his aching heart.

"Go on lovebirds, dont keep all the guests waiting!" Satoru chuckled weakly, motioning for you to go ahead, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding as you grinned and rushed over to your mother.

As he continued to watch you for the rest of the night, the alcohol his sole companion for the event, Satoru supposed the old stories he had read as a kid were right.

The human heart was a fickle thing, always longing for the things it simply cannot have the most.

And you, you would be his one weakness.

The only thing he'd still keep running back to, a curse and blessing all in one.

[our-happygirl500-fan]

During the opening of the movie Casey Junior looses his Sensei (the future version of Leo) & while I am by no means an expert on grief throughout the movie it could be argued that Casey Junior is going through something close to the five stages of grief over that loss.

Stage 1: Denial 

Casey Junior: How am I gonna save them all, Sensei? I really wish you were here. Wait, you are! I just need to find you

When Casey Junior finds himself in the past/ present he struggles to know what to do after the loss of his Sensei who had most likely been there to guide him his whole life, however when Casey Junior begins to contemplate that he will now have to live without his Sensei there to help him, he immediately backtracks when he realises that the past/ present versions of Leo is still alive.

Casey Junior: You told me to find the key and stop the Krang

Casey Junior: That’s exactly how you freed all those families from the Krang labour camp

There are multiple moments where Casey Junior talks to Leo as if he’s the same Master Leonardo that trained him because there’s a part of Casey Junior that doesn’t want to admit that his Sensei is gone so he’s trying to act as though nothing has changed by treating Leo the same way he would treat ‘Master Leonardo’

Stage 2: Anger 

Casey Junior: The world needs Master Leonardo. And all we got is this guy

When Leo isn’t able to be exactly the same as the Master Leonardo that Casey Junior knew however, Casey Junior responds in anger to Leo’s actions.

Part of this scene is Casey Junior being frustrated with Leo’s actions but it’s also possible that part of his anger also comes from the fact that Casey Junior is realising that even if he treats Leo like his Sensei, Leo can’t act like the man he knew as the past/ present Leo hasn’t had the experiences that made ‘Master Leonardo’ 

Stage 3: Bargaining

Casey Junior: Leo, please! I can’t loose you again

The confrontation between Leo & Casey Junior gives Leo the push he needs to step up as a leader & Leo begins acting more like the version of Leonardo that Casey Junior knew

Future Leonardo: We’ve still got a ninja’s greatest weapon... hope.

Leo: We still have hope!

Casey Junior: A ninja’s greatest weapon

Leo: Hey I like that

After Leo displays traits that remind Casey Junior of Leo’s future self Casey Junior begins to occasionally call Leo ‘sensei’ again because even though Casey Junior has realised that Leo isn’t the same as the man that trained him & that his sensei is gone, he still sees pieces of his sensei in Leo which makes him want to hold onto Leo as the last pieces of his sensei that he has left

Leo: When I get to the other side, you close that door

Casey Junior: What? Sensei, no!

Even though Casey Junior is no longer trying to pretend as though nothing has changed & act like Leo & ‘Master Leonardo’ are the exact same people, Casey Junior is still wants to hold onto something close to what he’s lost.

Stage 4: Depression

When Leo sacrifices himself & Casey looses the last piece of his Sensei that he had left, all he can do is break down in grief

Stage 5: Acceptance 

Towards the end of the movie Casey is shown to be part of the present Hamato Clan with a new family picture taken to include him, even though Casey might still be mourning the family he lost he’s slowly but surely healing along with the family that he has now

[offonaherosjourney]

The immense rewatch value of Knives Out and Glass Onion

One thing I really love about Knives Out and Glass Onion (spoilers for both movies, btw) is their rewatch value. I love murder mysteries, but I don't think I've seen any more than twice or three times, and yet I've watched Glass Onion 4 times so far and Knives Out so many times I'm embarassed to even type the number. And lately I'd been thinking about what might be the reason why I keep coming back to these movies and about how I'm still enjoying them wholeheartedly despite knowing the dialogue of Knives Out almost to heart, and I think I've figured out why.

Watching a murder mystery for the first time is enjoyable because you're wrapped up in the mystery and in trying to guess the murderer. And then on your second watch you might know who the murderer is, but you still enjoy it because you get to pay attention to all the things you didn't notice or didn't know were clues the first time.

Rewatching Knives Out and Glass Onion is extremely enjoyable not only because you get to spot all the clues now, but also because of the seamless way Rian Johnson weaves humor into these films. After a couple viewings you might get tired of watching Wanetta Thrombey calling Marta "Ransom", or watching Miles place his glass on Dukes hand... but do you know what you don't get tired of? Marta's clumsy attempts to sabotage Blanc's investigation. Ransom telling his family to eat shit. Marta yeeting that piece of trellis only for the dog to bring it back. Or Blanc solving Miles' silly murder mystery in thirty seconds. The hot sauce scene. Blanc calling Miles a vainglorious buffoon.

And since the scripts are so brilliant and packed with little details, further rewatches of the films keep rewarding you with other little things you might not have picked up the first or second time. How, when the Thrombeys recount Harlan's birthday they all put themselves next to him, or when you realize that they don't know where Marta is from, or how they casually hand her their plates as if she's their maid. How telling are the masks each character wears and how they behave in the pier scene, the red solo cup Miles gives Peg, the painting that is hanged upside down, Helen in the end sitting with the exact same pose as the Mona Lisa.

Now, add to that all that the social critique in the films and their clear "fuck the rich" message, made manifest by a cast of unlikeable assholes that holy shit you lowkey wish all were responsible for the murder because you hate them and want to see all of them behind bars. Also, let's not forget about the world's greatest detective in this film universe, who happens to be unabashedly human. Benoit Blanc is an extremely likable character that captivates the audience's heart not because of his superior intellect and deduction skills, but because of his empathy. Because he makes sure that Marta understands she is a good nurse. Because he tells Helen to get the justice she deserves.

The result of all that stuff is that a movie whose greatest appeal might have been its whodunnit aspect on a first watch, on future ones presents a sort of good vs evil stakes. Because Marta is a good person and you like her and want her to learn she didn't murder Harlan and get the house and money she earned by being a good friend. Because Helen deserves justice and you like her and you can't wait to see her cathartic and righteous anger be the spark that lights the fire that burns down Miles Bron's empire built out of lies, theft and murder.

That's why I keep watching these movies over and over and why I'll never grow tired of watching them.

[only-the-moon-will-tell]

The Apparition by Sleep Token

A/N: This as some supernatural elements and yes I LOVE me some sleep token so I hope you enjoy poly!sleep token x reader

“Whenever you appear You leave me with that grace”

The happiest you’ve ever been was when they were with you. The four of them right by your side cracking jokes with not a care in the world. Attempting to all fit on the couch while trying to watch a movie. It ends up being you, iv, and Vessel on the couch, while iii and ii are sitting on the floor in front of the couch. You’re laying with your head on iv’s shoulder and your legs in Vessel’s lap as he rubs your feet. The combination of Ves rubbing your feet along with the warmth radiating off of iv was creating the perfect environment to drift off to sleep.

“Looks like someone is getting sleepy” iii pointed out as he turned back to look at you. “No I’m not” you argued back as your eyelids started to feel heavy fighting the tiredness to prove a point which got you a chuckle from the boys. A few minutes go by the movie turning into background noise as you let your eyes close allowing sleep to wash over you. Iii chuckles and without turning back he says “I told you someone was sleepy I felt their heart rate slow down”

iv and Vessel look up at each other and share a look iv asks “do you wanna wake them up?” “No let them dream…hopefully it’s a dream full of wonder” Vessel says rubbing his hands along your calf.

[time skip]

You have trouble sleeping at night so sometimes you’ll be in the kitchen at like 2am making yourself a sandwich and you’ll feel a pair of pairs wrap around your waist.

“Couldn’t sleep?” ii asks, already knowing the answer

“mhm figured I might as well get something to eat since I’m awake you want one?” you answered and added “How’d you know where to find me?”

“We know you like to wander around when you wake up at night hoping it’ll help you go back to sleep. I would have found you sooner or later and no my love i just wanted to check you and make sure you were ok. ” You always did love it when the boys would mention themselves as a unit more so than just one person, though you’d never tell them that.

As you finish putting your sandwich together you hum a random song while ii sways along to the song. Suddenly he pulls you back from the counter and spins you around so you’re facing each other you must have looked confused cause ii says “Just keep humming i just want to dance with you” and so that’s what you do. In the middle of the night no music, just slowly dancing in the kitchen together, arms wrapped around them too afraid to let go for a fear that they will disappear.

You wake up and launch your hand out hoping to feel someone, anyone and feel nothing but the cold bed sheets. You sit up and bring your knees to your chest. You look out into the darkness of the bedroom and start to sob to yourself.

You have memories of something that never happened with people who do not exist in your life the way that you wish they were.

Oh how the imagination can be the greatest place and still bring you the worst kind of pain.

“I am trembling with fear But I know that you will disappear Just as I awake”

[spearmintsmut]

MY OWN MUDBLOOD 7

So glad I kept writing this ~ thank uuu my loves I’m so glad you like it so far 🤍

You had laid on the warm grass with Draco for what felt like minutes and a lifetime. Like the clock stopped ticking and it was just his heartbeat drumming quietly under your ear and the the sound of his breath in the other. Your mind played the last week like a movie in your mind. It made no sense to you that in such a short blip of time, your essentially muggle life with your mother was uprooted, moving from London, to a mansion with a family you had all but just learned of, and expected to treat them as family. To meet a woman your father was marrying in the same day that you were expected to live with her. To meet a boy who had fought in the greatest wizarding world, on the wrong side at that, to hate him so quickly, and give yourself to him a week later. None of it made sense. You couldn’t possibly wrap your head around it, and trying made you dizzy. You still battled yourself, desperate for your father to finally show pride in you, and accepting that he never would. Even bringing you to his new home was likely in a bid to finally have a daughter who might become even half the witch he wished you were.

It was only when the sun started to set and the sky turned a dreamy orange when you realised how long you had laid there with him, lost in your own thoughts. Seemingly noticing at the same time, he gently sat up, helping you to sit up at the same time.

“We should eat,” he simply said, holding his hand out to help you up. Your legs trembled and you felt sore and weak between your thighs and Draco laughed watching you steady yourself. Your cheeks reddened as you felt his eyes on you. You followed him back into the manor and into the kitchen. It was large, with a marble counter and pots that stirred themself and you realised you had never been in the kitchen before. Only ever in the dining hall.

He asked the house elf, who stood as tall as his hip for some fruit, and it was the first time you had seen the elf smile. It seemed odd to you that Draco could make a being you thought to be below him smile. Was he kind to him, unlike how you’d read his father treating them - or was he that scared of your step-brother that he would paint a smile just for him. They exchanged words and the elf magically summoned a glass bowl of fruit.

Draco took the bowl with a polite but casual “thank you” and you realised it was the first time you had heard anyone in the house thank him. The meals you had eaten, the cleaning you had seen him do, neither Narcissa, nor your father had thanked him once.

You half expected Draco to leave you there and disappear, but even after lying with Draco after he had taken your virginity, you weren’t ready to be alone. You followed him up the stairs, dreading him going to his room and you, yours - but when he got to his room and waited for you to follow him in, you sighed quietly to yourself in relief.

You had gone 18 years of your life knowing men weren’t to be relied on and a large part of you wasn’t ready to challenge that, but you couldn’t ignore the feeling In your chest, the longing that you had to be around him, that hope that he longed for you too, and respected you enough show it.

You stood awkwardly in the doorway, as you watched him sit down on his bed. The line between step-brother and something else entirely had blurred beyond comprehension in such a short time, and you had no experience with either one of those.

“Are you going to sit down or just stand there like a git?”.

You laughed awkwardly and sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. The cherries in the bowl looked like something out of the cartoons you watched growing up. Nicer than real food should look, you thought. You picked one up, popping it in your mouth. There had to be magic in these cherries, you were sure of it. You looked up when you realised you hadn’t asked to eat his food, and when you caught Draco gazing longingly at your stained red lips, his eyes darted away. Though you had seen his mask slip in real time, his walls were built back up in a second, his parted lips quickly closing into a tight line. It puzzled you how he could be so sweet and charming in the smallest ways, and so unrelenting in acting like he wasn’t. You supposed he didn’t know any better, or that he must have had some sort of reputation to maintain. He stiffened up beside you, so you decided to drop your train of thought. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to another person having access to your thoughts. They were the only thing that was ever yours. You had both been trapped by, and escaped into your thoughts your entire life, knowing that if you had nothing else, you had that. Now, your mind was taken from you and your body, you had given him.

He pulled you into him, back against his chest, and you had no choice or desire but to comply. You looked up at him, his jaw sharp and angular even from your angle as he looked down at you.

“Open your mouth,” he whispered, and though his voice was gentle, it was no less than a command and you did as he said, meeting his eyes as you did so. His long, slender fingers picked up a cherry and pushed it slowly into your mouth. Your plump lips closed around it, and he pulled it from the stem for you. The juice ran down the corner of your mouth and he caught it with his thumb, licking it off seductively. You were in awe and the anger you had felt toward him, though you hadn’t let it go entirely, lay hidden below layer upon layer of a new feeling. You had never understood, nor cared to understand your friends pining for the men in their lives. It never made sense to you the way they would talk about the little, unimportant things they would do. Though you had felt you were missing out on important milestones in your schooling years, it never appealed to you enough to chase it. A part of you may have even felt you didn’t deserve it - like it was something so out of reach it wasn’t worth longing for. Now, those little things made sense to you. The way his jaw would clench and it would send your stomach fluttering. His hands, oh his hands. You felt embarrassed that you’d notice them, and your imagination forever following close behind, but you didn’t know how to shut it off. How to avoid him peering in.

You let him feed you more cherries, smiling sheepishly as he watched you intently. Finally you spoke up,

“Thank you for the duel. You didn’t have to go so easy on me, but it got my mind off things I guess,”

“I wasn’t going as easy on you as I should have,” he seemed to be pained at his thoughts. His brow furrowed and you watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I didn’t..,” he trailed off deep in thought.

You realised how uncomfortable he was that he had thrown you.

“You didn’t hurt me Draco. I wanted to learn and I did.” Though you weren’t always sure of yourself in your magical abilities, you knew youhad learned what you did quickly, and you knew he was doing you a favour in teaching you. He didn’t even want to when Narcissa had suggested it. He frowned at your words and you knew he was holding back an argument.

“You did learn quickly. I’m sure you’ll be ready for school by the time the summer is over.”

You looked up at him, assuming you had misheard him but before you could ask him to repeat himself, he smiled and repeated himself.

“You’ll be ready for school when I’m done with you. You don’t think I’m going to let my Mother marry you into my family if you never attend Hogwarts.”

You couldn’t believe his words. You had barely learned a handful of spells and he was suggesting hogwarts? You hadn’t even thought you were young enough to attend. Before you could ask, he answered your question.

“Hogwarts offers 8th year, higher education. Since I was a prefect before the..before last year, I’ll be completing my studies there after the break. I’ll make sure you are offered the same.” He spoke so matter of factly, you almost missed the generosity of his offer. You had dreamed so often of what your life would have looked like had you been allowed to attend. You had fantasised about it almost every day since you had gotten your letter, and after you were told you would not be allowed to, you had held so much resentment toward your mother for it, and even your father for not sending you anyway. Now, you would potentially have a chance at attending and you couldn’t even begin to comprehend the offer he had so casually given you. All you could manage was a “Thank you”, words completely obliterated by shock and overwhelm.

“Don’t thank me. You should have never been stuck in muggle London. Your parents did you a great disservice, even if you’re a..half blood.” He pushed the word out like it tasted foul on his tongue. It stung like the first time he had called you a mudblood, but you were in too much shock for it to bubble under your skin like it had before. He was right. Though you assumed he was disgusted that a witch had deprived their child of an education rather than care how you felt about it, it was reassuring to hear it from someone else.

“Did you know Narcissa was marrying my father before we moved in?” You asked. Though it must have seemed out of nowhere to him, you had been brewing on the question since you had met him. It seemed to you, that you were always last to know about anything your family did. Though you were both only children, it was obvious that you had very different experiences as such. He was the man of the house and you, an afterthought.

He thought for a moment, studying your face before finally answering.

“Yes. I knew. I knew who you were before you stepped into my home,” he answered coldly and you knew he was referring to your “impure” blood.

You didn’t know how to respond, nodding your head instead.

“I’m guessing I knew they were marrying well before you knew we existed too,” he added and your heart sunk. He was probably right, and him drawing that conclusion so easily didn’t help. Of course he did - you envied what he and his mother had.

“My father was barely in the ground before that was decided,” he spat and you were snapped out of your thoughts at his sudden admission. A rare snippet of his thoughts of his late father, and how he felt about the engagement. He lifted you up like you weighed nothing before you could even think to reply, and tossed you back into his bed, moving you out of his way like a light object. He stood up, moving toward a cabinet gracefully. You watched his large hands wrap around a bottle on the shelf. He pulled the top off with his teeth and took a swig. He hissed out a breath after gulping it down, and offered the bottle to you. You had tried a few drinks in high school, but had never drank anything out of the bottle, so you shook your head no.

“I’m having a friend over tomorrow,” he started. “You better have some then. It’ll get your mind off things,” he offered. You wondered if he was the friend you had heard his mother fussing about. You felt nervous at the thought of meeting them. Would they feel the same way about half bloods, or someone who didn’t go to Hogwarts when them? You decided you would likely avoid it all together and just stay in your room.

You thanked Draco again for the lesson, and left to shower the day off you. As the hot water covered you, your soapy hands roamed your body, reminding you of the way Draco’s had earlier that day. You looked down at your body and noticed small bruises that had already started to form on your hips, and you couldn’t help the blush heat your cheeks. You were horrified in your naive and prudish mind when your friends would brag about bruises and hickeys that boys would leave them with, but realising you had been marked by Draco in such a wanton and animalistic way drove you wild - Like a hint to a secret your body kept with his.

[class1akids]

hii, so what do you think will happen to Deku?? ive been seeing soo many people on my tl saying that he'll end up quirkless and i know its not supposed to be like that but now idk anymore and with this last chapter i think he may end up quirkless which i hate btw. Anyways, what are your thots on this and where do you think the memory thing is going?

I'm sorry to say, but I've been a "Deku ends up quirkless" again truther for many years. To me, narratively, it just makes sense for the overall set-up of the main question of the manga: "Can I be a hero?" which has kept coming back in the endgame to come full circle.

In this story, we have learnt that all kinds of people can become heroes: people with "villain quirks" (like Shinsou), people with niche quirks (Aizawa, Monoma), people with troublesome quirks (Mirio), people who don't even use their quirks to be heroes (Hatsume). So I don't see how it would be only the MC, who needs specifically the greatest power in existence to be a hero. Deku needs to be able to face his quirkless middle school self and tell him with all confidence that "you can be a hero too".

To me, given how OFA evolved (the multiple quirks, the shortcuts to 100%, the short learning time), it would make sense if Deku's journey is not to be an empty chalice / tool for OFA, but OFA to be the tool for him to discover his own strengths (physical, mental, battle IQ, etc.), learn how to fight and help him to become a hero.

All Might even did the test run for an Armored Hero, mimicking the quirks of Class A and held up against AFO just as well if not better than people with quirks did. That plot is way more fitting for Deku who has actually been relentlessly studying his friends' quirks and with proto-Deku being an actual tech hero.

And on top of it, I think that Deku staying as ridiculously OP as he is would not give him a happy ending. OFA has no reason to exist once AFO (the quirk) is gone for good. Staying so OP would send Izuku down the road of All Might 2.0 - whether he wants to or not - with no life for himself. He's self-sacrificial enough that if he has the power to do everything, he will keep doing it and run to every corner of the world to help. It's isolating and that rat race is not what makes Izuku as a person happy.

He's someone who likes to hang out with his friends, stop to chat with people he saved and make candy apples to make them smile. That's where his true happiness lie imho.

The only question mark I have is because of Bakugou's ridiculous power-up. I've always thought Bakugou and Deku will end up around the same power level in the end (to keep the whole rivals thing going into post-franchise movies). Probably Shouto too, but that's less of a given.

But now, I'm not sure how Horikoshi will balance this. Bakugou is still nowhere near full-power Deku, but Armored Deku I don't think would be a credible rival to 2xAwakened Bakugou. So because of that, I can imagine, Hori will do the typical Hori-thing and won't commit and will go instead for some half-ass solution of nerfing Deku just so (e.g. having him keep Black Whip or have some asspull of the super strength fuse into his DNA, or get a quirk back from Tomura...) and then keep the fandom arguing who is stronger.

For me, the narratively more compelling story is to have Deku wake up quirkless after the big battle, after he saved the world and getting a few chapters of him getting back to his feet, and not a single soul question whether he still belongs to the hero course because of course he does. And then have absolutely everyone help him - to pitch in money to develop his armor and help him train and everyone (and especially Bakugou) treat him as absolute EQUAL and as an inspiration. And then have him graduate from UA as the first ever quirkless hero ever (and go on to work as hero partners with Bakugou probably).

Hori said that he has a lot of stuff he wants to draw after the war, and I think something like this would make sense.

[aliypop]

Return To Sender

Word Count: 2,155

Writers Note: Meet Cece's new soon-to-be friend Natalya Dyer who's totally not based off of my great friend @sissylittlefeather the Jerry in my life ....

Warning: Sexual content and Language

Pairing: POC OC x Elvis

Plot: It's 1968 and Natalya Dyer a divorcee and single mother is tasked to interview Elvis and Cecelia Presley at their humble mansion Graceland about their spicy relationship only to learn more about them as people.

Chapter 2

Taglist

@darkmoviesquotespizza

@sissylittlefeather

@richardslady121

@thegettingbyp2

@presleyenterprise

@dkayfixates

@rjmartin11

@thetaoofzoe

@your-nanas-house

@zayurir

@60svintage

@sillybookmarks

@leapresley

@everythingelvispresley

@dreamondina94

@elvismylove04

@pocketfulofpresley

@elvispresley1956

Memphis August 1968

" I think that's all of it, ma’am." One of the movers said, placing the last box in her home, the biting smell of her cigarette flooding the room as she took a deep breath. Her long dark brown hair was unraveling from its beehive. She sat down. Her son Jericho would be home any minute to tell her about his first day at school. Of course, she knew that if it was one thing a mother needed was mai tai, some music, and a nice relaxing day,

BRRRING!

BRRRRING!

BRRRRRRING! 

"Damnit. Who's calling me now..." She groaned, walking towards her teal rotary phone, "Natalya Dyer speaking,

" Who's this?" Holding her cigarette in the other hand as she waited for the voice to speak, 

"Nat, how's everything in Memphis." It was her boss, Mrs. Moon, of the juicy gossip magazine Moon and Sun. "It's not California." Natalya smiled, her radio playing softly in the background as she took a deep drag of her cigarette. It wasn't that she didn't like her job. She knew she was destined for great things, like being an author or owning a company. But Natalya might have started considering a new job based on her thoughts about being destined for her boss's words to her, 

"Well, that's great hun. Listen, we want the juicy gossip between Hollywood's greatest couple."

"Sharon Tate and Roman Polanski?" 

"No, Elvis and Cecelia Presley." Natalya knew that the magazine was known as a crummy rumor and sex magazine amongst the stars, but she couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity. Was there anything to report? "Alright, Mrs. Moon, any leads?"

"Nope, I'm just your messenger today. You've got to do the rest of the work." Although she had been considering a new job, the twinge of curiosity seemed to have won her over, and it looked like she'd be doing the rest of the work to get the scoop on the couple. 

"Mama!! Mama!!!" 

"Well, Tata dear." Mrs. Moon hung up, and as she did, Natalya put all her attention on her blonde-haired blue-eyed son. "Hey, Jer-Bear, how was school!" Natalya asked as he hugged his mother,

 "It was good. I made lots of friends, and I think two of them are related to the Presleys." 

"That's good," Natalya smiled as she then zoned back into what he just said, 

"Why's that honey?"

"Well... One's got blue eyes and dark hair." 

"Every white boy who's got dark hair and blue eyes isn't a-"

"And his last name is Presley, and his sister asked if we could come over tonight for dinner!" Would it be this simple for her to get this job done? She wondered to herself, 

"Did they give you a number?" She asked. Natalya had hoped these kids weren't playing a cruel joke on her son, but then again one could never know for sure. 

"They did!" Jericho smiled, handing her a piece of a cupcake wrapper with writing on it. Although, it was weird, as a journalist. She's handled much worse. Natalya dialed the number as she waited. This couldn't be real, she was calling the house of the world's favorite stars, it had to be a- 

"Hello, Elvis Presley speaking?"

"Prank..." She mumbled. "I-I mean, uh, Hi!, I'm Natalya Dyer, and my son, I believe, befriended your children?" She said, trying to remain calm. She was talking to Elvis! A man whose movies she's watched religiously! A man, who she's had posters of!

"Mhmm, One moment." Elvis looked at his son Jesse as he looked up at his dad, "Did you invite a friend over?" He asked as Jesse nodded,

 "Was I not supposed to..."

"Buddy, you gotta ask me and your mama first." He ruffled up his dark hair, 

"Oh..." 

"Can he still come over?" Elaine began to bat her eyes as Elvis smiled, bending to his daughter's will, "Oh alright," He winked, "Uh, Mrs. Dyer, ya still there?" 

"Mhmm..." She nodded trying not to scream,

"Could you come by say 4:30? My wife should be home then," Sometimes it did indeed pay to have a kid, Natalya thought, "Of course, we'll leave now." Natalya hung up as Jericho came back down, 

"Can we go!"

"Mhmm!" Bringing her notepad and a pen, she got her keys and her son and took off. Driving down from her house on Audubon to Graceland was beautiful. There were trees and long stretches of land, a beautiful rustic feel that was different from California and different from her messy life. As she was driving down towards the house, she saw a 68 pink Mustang cruise beside her, as she looked over to see who it was. Her eyes caught a glimpse of who she thought was. "Cecelia Presley?" She mumbled but then shrugged. Maybe it wasn't her, and she was getting herself a little too excited. 

"Mama, look!" Jericho pointed towards the gates as he grinned, 

"Holy shit..." Natalya gasped driving toward the driveway, "Excuse me Ms. may I help you." There was a man at the gate with brown shaggy hair and a warm smile,

 "Natalya Dyer," She smiled as Jericho waved at the man, "Come in, E and C are expecting you." Driving up the driveway. She saw a woman with jeans on and her shirt tied standing next to her pink Mustang,

 "El!" Cecelia smiled, "Oh! Hi!" She turned to face,

"Uh... Natalya Dyer." She stuck her hand out as Cecelia stole a glance at her. She was beautiful and built like Sophia Loren, 

"Nice to meet you, and who's this little cutie!"

"JERICHO!!!" Jesse ran out of the house, Jericho hugged his friend as Natalya laughed,

 "My son,"

"Well come on in, can I get you anything to drink?" Cecelia asked as Natalya nodded,

 "Got anything to make a Mai Tai?"

"Rough day?"

"Just moved in today..." Natalya shook her head, She watched as Cecelia made her drink and smiled, 

"Where from?"

"California, though I'm from Tulsa Oklahoma." She mentioned as Cecelia snickered, Natalya didn't find it funny until she remembered whose house she was in. 

"Is there a Mr. Dyer?"

"No...No... I'm going through a messy divorce. It's just my son and I living in Audubon." Natalya shrugged, 

"Say, uh, I don't wanna make things weird, but," 

"You wanna interview Elvis and me?"

"How'd you know?"

"The pen and pad in your pocket." 

"Touche..." She laughed as Cecelia smirked,

 "Mama, can I have a fancy drink too!" Natalya heard a small voice say as she looked down and saw a little girl who looked like Cecelia. "Of course, sweetheart." She made her a mocktail and sent her on her way,

 "That's our daughter Elaine."

"She's beautiful,"

"She's a minute younger than her brother,"

"Cece is that you?"

"In the kitchen!" She shouted back, 

"Is that..."

"Mhmm, in the TV room, " The two walked down as Cecelia led her down the stairs, Elvis had been watching Football, the news, and a game show. He hadn't been wearing anything too spectacular except for his wedding band, but for once he looked like a normal guy,

 "Whatcha watching..." Cecelia asked, her arms around his shoulder as he kissed her hand, "My damn teams losin again." He huffed as she shook her head, 

"What about you how was your day?"

"Stressful, but enough about that..." He kissed her nose as she blushed, "We have a guest, Ms. Dyer,"

"We spoke on the phone," He got up and introduced himself to her, "Lovely home!" She squeaked, 

"She just moved to Audubon Drive today?"

"I used to live there, it's a nice suburb if you don't hang your laundry on a clothesline," He grumbled, 

"Explain's the price for it." she mumbled, "Well don't be a stranger Nat come sit, turn the TV onto whatever you watch!" Elvis smiled and she felt warm inside, like he was a familiar friend, 

"May I interview you two for Moon and Sun Magazine?" Natalya asked as Elvis shrugged,

 "Don't see why not," He responded as Cecelia sat next to him.

"Alright, I warn you... These questions are a bit uh... raunchy cause Moon and Sun, like that kind of thing," 

"Shoot." Elvis winked,

"Alright, uh... What's your favorite time of day t-to," Natalya couldn't believe she was going to ask her two favorite artists this question, but here she was, 

"To what?" Elvis asked, his eyebrow quirking up, he couldn't lie and say he didn't read Moon and Sun magazine, it was one of the many things that kept the spice in his life going. 

"To have sex...", She got quiet as Elvis and Cecelia paused, the couple thinking for a while as Natalya gulped, 

"I-I don't know, Cil and I are like rabbits sometimes ya know." Elvis laughed as Cecelia blushed, "I'd say early mornin, it's something about hearing the birds chirp that makes it romantic." She grinned as Natalya wrote their answers down, 

"I agree." Elvis winked,

 "And why's that?"

"Well, it's when it's just us and the early morning glow on her skin. It makes her look like a goddess." Elvis mentioned as he shrugged, Natalya nodded, she could remember when her husband was romantic like that, "Get as dirty as you want hun," Cecelia poured a glass of Fanta Orange, 

"You sure?"

"You want people to buy this don't'cha," Elvis smirked as Natalya nodded,

"So what was it like the first time you two fucked," Natalya asked as Elvis lit up a cigarillo, "Mind lighting my cig?" She asked as Elvis leaned to light it. 

 "It was bad," Cecelia giggled,

"You said it was good." He playfully glared at her as Natalya watched them, "Well, it was good then, I mean we were 20 and it was on a tour bus, which is hot, but."

"Not romantic," Natalya added as they both nodded, "We were so awkward, Couldn't look him in the eye." Cecelia laughed, 

"I see, I see, so speaking of that how big is it..." Natalya asked as Cecelia smirked, "Now we're talkin," Elvis went red as he coughed, "I'll be outside by the door..." He smiled,

"So... Is the king packing a scepter..." 

"Mhmm... Think a Cola bottle and a quarter," Cecelia smirked, Natayla gasped, 

"And you take all of it..." 

"Mhmm."

"So... did you like suck it the first time or,"

"Second time, and..."

"It was the best damn head I ever had." He walked back in,

 "Glad to see you're back. Cause, I got a question for you." 

"Alright."

"Did you go muff diving?" She smirked, "I mean it is all the rage now," 

"Course I did," He smirked, "Always do, she got me used to it, "

"I did?" Cecelia blushed, as he winked, Natayla liked the conversation she was stirring, but she wanted to know more, something that wasn't so sexual,

 "Say, tell me about that Christmas Special coming up?" 

"Well, I should let Cece tell you that, I'm just the singer, for singer, but Cece directed it." He gave her praise as he kissed her, "Correction second unit director, Binder directed it, and if I must add, without my help, it would have been shit..." 

"Tell me more," Natalya realized she was interviewing the wrong person really, "I mean as a woman, and of color that had to be tough," She sighed, 

"Well Binders team and my team had a vision, and that vision was Elvis, nothing less nothing more." Cecelia looked at her husband as he kissed her cheek, "Not to mention while taking care of the kids." Elvis chuckled, "But this woman here, is amazin, she won't talk about herself, but I will, My wife put that damn show so ahead on its train tracks all I had to worry about was what location and what outfit, she's a genius she's an icon and she's my hero." He looked into her eyes as Natalya's heart yearned for what they had, "I did nothing except organize and yell action," Cecelia joked, " I mean am I force not to fuck with yeah, but I'm a wife and a mother and-"

"And an amazin artist and songwriter and writer, and guitar player," He turned to Natalya, 

"Man, I wish I had my magazine... I'd cover stories like this you know." 

"Then come up with a business proposal and we'll make it happen." 

"I..." 

"She means it," Elvis winked, 

"You'd do that for me?" Natayla asked, "I mean you two barely know me and-"

"Nat, you're good people, I've never seen our sun that excited unless his grandpa's grillin'"Elvis chuckled, 

"Hey C where's the band-aid's" 

"I'll show you." Natalya looked up and she saw him, the guy from the gate, her brown eyes meeting soft gentle blue ones, 

"Actually, Elvis you wanna come with me..." 

"Hmm?" Cecelia nudged him, he then looked between the two, "Oh... Oh! " He took his wife by the hands as they left, 

"Jerry Schilling..."

"Natalya Dyer." 

Do you think I should make a part 2? LET ME KNOW?