#3) are nowhere near her style choice | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deusvervewrites · 2 years ago

Note

So, I've been thinking about Bakugou (again) and I realized that one thing that irritates me is how much it feels like Horikoshi is/was trying to have his Cake and eat it too with Bakugous arc.

He wants him to have a redemption arc, which is good, Bakugou is nowhere near the irredeemable villain zone, but he also wants him to be a Measuring Stick for Izuku and others, a goal for them to work towards and more of a Rival instead of a villain, and that BEFORE he's had his redemption arc. And as a result he REALLY doesn't want to put him through the wringer or have him fall in the way that the best redemption arcs need.

For example, Zukos redemption arc worked so well BECAUSE he didn't switch sides in Ba Sing Se in season 2, he had to get everything he wanted back at the cost of everything that actually mattered and then had to realize how empty he now felt and that the had made the wrong choice. That's why his redemption works so well. The same can be said for Catra from the 2018 version of She-Ra: She could have switched sides in season 3, but instead she doubled down and rose higher in power while falling even deeper as a character, only to end up all alone and powerless and lost. And that's why her redemption works.

But Bakugou... He isn't allowed to ever really fall, to fuck up one time too much and look back and see the trail of errors in his wake. We get close to that several times, but he is always pulled back up, because "he is just the rival and their classmate, he isn't really an antagonist, this would be bad, right?". Which not only sabotages his potential redemption, it also has the unfortunate side-effect that some of his worst behaviors are implicitly enabled and/or normalized.

The worst part?

There was a perfect opportunity in the Ground Beta fight after the Provisional Licensing Exams. Had Bakugou, after Kamino and failing the Exams and everything else that happened at UA, lost that fight against Izuku, it could have been the perfect catalyst for him to finally reexamine his biases and opinions.

But no. Bakugou magically has zero issues keeping up with 8% Full Cowl Shoot Style Izuku and actually wins that fight AND is then essentially encouraged in his opinions by the teachers.

God damn it.

I think Zuko and Catra are both interesting comparisons

Zuko doesn't realize that he's doing the wrong thing until late Season 2, and he still backslides when given the opportunity for his father's approval. It's not until he has it that he realizes that he doesn't actually like having it.

Catra starts the series well aware that she is the bad guy, and she doesn't care because all she cares about is Adora. She hits her rock bottom somewhere either during the finale of Season 3 or throughout Season 4 depending on your interpretation. Overly Sarcastic Productions has an entire 40 minute breakdown of her arc in Season 4 and how it parallels a protagonist, leaving them both at their lowest and trapped together for the start of Season 5.

(OSP has also discussed redemption arcs on multiple occasions, and specifically cite Zuko's arc by noting how we are constantly introduced to him in sympathetic circumstances, such as interacting with Zhao and humanized through Iroh.)

Both of them get what they think they want and come to realize that what it's not what they actually wanted at all. I've heard it said that Bakugou only wins when it's not important but that's really... not true. I've mentioned before in passing that the school format means that the student characters have limited agency in the narrative. Saying that the Battle Trials wasn't winning in a way that matters is not quite true because the school year will continue regardless of who wins or loses or how. The closest thing we ever really see to Bakugou deciding he doesn't like the way he's succeeding is his internship with Best Jeanist.

There is never really a moment where Bakugou gets what he wants and decides that he really doesn't want it. The only way he could have a moment like that is reaching the Number One Hero spot or something to that effect.

But that's not the only way to do an arc like this. I go on and on about it, but Infinity Train Season 3 really is that good about showing off Redemption Arcs.

Bakugou's whole thing is that he recognizes the flaws in his own behavior without outside input, which is interesting, especially in a shonen, which generally has the kid characters do all the work since that's the target age demographic. Yeah it makes UA come across as a worse institution but that's par for the course in Magical School Young Adult Fiction.

The real issue is that we don't get to see a lot of that reflection. He gives a speech about why he had to be the one to end All Might... while dragging Midoriya out past curfew to beat him up. His final Hero Name is worse and gaudier than the joke names he gave at the start. He nearly failed the Final Exam because he wanted to just attack All Might over and over, and he is currently getting field heart surgery because he... attacked Shigaraki. Over and over.

The closest we get to him showing indications of responsibility is when we get a fucking flashback in the War Arc* to him telling All Might that he used to bully Midoriya, and when he identifies that Midoriya will always put other people before himself without ever mentioning why exactly, the person who he personally called Useless for eleven years might not have great self-esteem, but also I can recognize that Horikoshi does not want to tell a story with themes of mental health, and to complain that the story lacks those elements is not a valid reading of the text.

I feel like Bakugou has a lot of narrative potential in a lot of different aspects of My Hero Academia, but he's not really being used as effectively as he could be. I maintain that him losing his Quirk during this arc but becoming a Hero anyway would be fucking rad

*The sins of the War Arc are incalculable, but the most prominent one is that they skipped over four fucking months to get there and then had to keep flashing back to all the important things that happened

#asks #meta

46 notes · View notes

eolewyn1010 · 3 months ago

Text

Downton Abbey Fashion 3 - Edwardian outdoors fashion

We're still on coats and walking suits pre-war, but we have yet to look at the younger generation of Crawleys. And I will have to begrudgingly admit that while I can't stand Mary, I am in general an admirer of her fashion choices.

Hm. This coat would be an exception. Admittedly, it does have embroidered lapels, but I don’t see the pattern well enough anywhere that it looks other than abstractly flower-ish to me. Other than that, it doesn’t seem to fit quite right? It’s honestly one of the more unassuming Mary looks, but it was also grabbed for her in a haste and I don’t think we see this again afterward. Oh well, on to the prettier bits.

There we go. Usually, Mary’s outdoor looks are spectacular. Look at this tailored suit! So grey and yet so glamorous. I love these little toothed elements around the collar and on the cuffs. Unnecessary buttons are usually the death of me because ew, stitching on buttons. But I can’t deny that the effect is great. Also, the velvet ribbon around the hat pops nicely on the otherwise uncolored outfit.

Thanks, Mary – this is a nice coat. Beautiful color, looks clean and streamlined, nowhere near the shabby chic of the first one. And again, the velvet elements pop very finely. And I definitely need to find out the Crawleys’ milliner; the first hat is doubtlessly one of my favorites. How do you load velvet, tulle, feathers, and a brooch up there without making it look cluttered? It helps that the rest of the outfit, including Mary’s jewelry, is very understated. Also, the coat is a holdover to season 2.

The white London walking suit. Not a personal favorite of mine; I feel it’s a bit lacking in those nice contrast elements the blue coat has, but there’s no denying it looks very good. Love the stitching on the upper part of the collar; it ties in the color scheme of the hat. The hat itself – well, again, this particular asymmetrically drooping style is not my favorite, but it’s perfectly coordinated with the suit, and the ribbon adds up with gloves, shoes and umbrella to a nice framework. Slightly suspicious of the pockets in this jacket though. I hope to someone those are actual pockets and not just decorative flaps.

Another banger! I’m tempted to call this an Eton jacket because of the waist length, but I’m not secure enough in my terminology. And this one comes with contrast elements again; I love it. The collar style is new, and then there are these adorable little turnover-cuffs! And the little soutache embroidery on the front which seems like a nod to military fashions… You know, maybe it is an Eton jacket after all. Mary wears this one a couple times, with various hats as we can see – again, this asymmetrical style, and one of the big plumage spectacles I personally prefer because I’m overfed on modern fashion understatements. Go big or go home. But also, consider: pockets.

I’m not a 100% sure about this; like some of the Dowager’s dresses, it seems to be a liminal outfit. Without a hat, it looks very indoor-sy, but with the hat, it’s fine enough for a stroll in the park. Anyway. High-waisted skirt because Mary meets a potential suitor, so she’s gotta show off her figure, and fluff above the waist because pigeon chest is not quite dead yet. The long pearl necklace in the first picture is foreshadowing the upcoming overlong fashions of the 1920s. No more notes; this looks nice and appropriate for summer, and purple dresses Mary quite well.

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

I don’t know what to make of this suit, tbh. I’m here for the cream-and-black contrast; this is almost a recolored version of Mary’s blue coat and as such very nice. Only, it looks like it doesn’t fit Edith quite right, wrinkling up in the chest area when she’s standing up straight. If this is another attempt in dressing her down, it doesn’t make sense; the Crawleys can afford to tailor every damn thing to the millimeter. At least with the mourning suit not quite fitting Mary, they had established before that it was an unexpected event and they didn’t know if the girls still had fitting mourning garb. Oh, well. Contrary to Mary’s opinion about Edith’s fashion sense, this one looks very nice with the dark blue blouse and hat, and it compliments her hair color. Also, the last picture is of season 2 – one more of the instances where they keep something over a season change.

This one fits better, but I’m not a fan of the brownish grey color. Of course, the situation is unflattering for Edith’s skills in intellectual conversation and flirting, so a not-very-flattering color on her makes sense. Thanks for the subtlety? On the plus side, the collar of that suit has some nice embroidery.

The orange walking suit! Hm? No, this isn’t spectacular or anything; it’s just the first instance of Edith wearing a color that’s going to become pretty iconic for her, although it doesn’t have the same character significance for her yet that it has later on. She pairs it with dark blue a lot; here, she’s going with black and white. Nice hat on the right, only I could swear I have seen it elsewhere before? Did she steal it from Mary? In any case, I like this style better than the little bowl hats Edith predominantly wears this season.

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

And then there’s Sybil, who has her signature color cut out more clearly than her older sisters – she wears more light blue than anything else, outside and in evening dresses. Check out this nice walking suit! Love the embroidery and the cute little tassels and the pleating on the front. Plus the dark blue piping around the collar giving it a little extra pop.

More of the same color, although this is a little more washed-out. I’m here for pinstripes though! This coat is much longer, almost to the knees. Also way more streamlined. I like that she’s repeating the hat, but with a different ribbon on it. The suit Gwen is wearing is technically also Sybil’s, and it’s cut in a much similar fashion as the previous one, but I’m surprised that it’s such a strong color contrast with the rest of Sybil’s wardrobe. It also might have been altered slightly to fit Gwen.

#Downton Abbey #Downton Abbey's costume fund #historical fashion

4 notes · View notes

eremji · 9 months ago

Text

Fic Questions Meme

How do you come up with the titles for your fics?

Is there anything worse than writing a title? Can I interest you in an action scene instead?

2. Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

cw: abuse (and the fic itself addresses pretty dark shit)

each lovely phrase (E) - Outlast - Eddie Gluskin/Waylon Park.

This is a weird vehicle for it, but this was written in part after my experience losing my abusive father to terminal illnesses without receiving any kind of resolution to my grief and anger. My situation was nowhere near as severe as the POV character's – my experience was entirely verbal/psychological mistreatment – and the fic wasn't intended to be a mirror of reality, but the rage and grief I felt definitely informed the POV character's pretty heavily.

3. What character do you identify with most?

I didn't have an answer to questions like this for a long time, but Kim Wexler from Better Call Saul is probably the closest I've ever come to wholly seeing myself in a character. She's a small town escapee with big ambitions, where her choices early in her life led her to some toxic and morally grey situations. There are innate tensions between competing goals – her desire to do something genuinely good, her desire to make all her work worthwhile by being intensely career oriented, and her desire to get one over on the people who have made her life harder – that really resonate with my early adult experience.

4. If you wrote a sequel to any of your published fics, what would it be about?

I'm satisfied with all of the currently published fics as they stand, actually; if I felt like something warranted a sequel or epilogue I generally wrote it directly after the first thing and posted it.

5. How would you describe your style?

I don't actually know how to answer this; I lack the technical vocabulary to define it. I'm sure someone has an answer, looking at my fic externally, but all I try to do is climb as far into a character's head as possible. Sometimes canon makes this easier; sometimes a film, a tv show, or a piece of written fiction has a very distinct voice to it, either in diction or visually, so its easy to match. Otherwise, I tend to do some exploratory writing from a character's POV to see if I can hit on something that makes me feel good.

6. Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?

I don't actually believe in guilty pleasures when reading/writing, because its fiction! It isn't real! I'm unabashedly a monsterlover, robot fucker, dubious consent supporter, villain/hero shipper, and a whole mess of other things.

7. What's the angstiest idea you've ever come up with?

I have a half-written fic rotting in my drafts folder where one of the main characters is dead from the start (they eventually get better, see my addendum to MCD fics in question 16 later on) and the whole thing is just a wild ride through grief and love, and not in any fandom or for any pairing you'd probably expect looking at either my reading or writing history.

8. What's the weirdest AU you've ever come up with?

I desperately wanted to write the Dinotopia!AU for SteveBucky where Bucky was a Skybax rider and Steve was a scholar but I couldn't figure out a good plot for the premise.

9. Got any premises on the back burner that you'd care to share?

I have an Inception fic due for a rewrite that was started based off a bunch of dreams I'd actually had, but the plot has changed (it actually has one instead of being a series of set pieces) so I need to restructure it.

10. Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

I have a few pages of a ST (AOS) WIP that's dom!Spock/mouthy sub!Kirk that explores D/s dynamics in the vein of Spock's enjoyment of having control (after feeling out of control compared to other Vulcans) and Kirk's unresolved issues with authority. Oh – and the entirety of the AOS plot after Kirk's disciplinary hearing doesn't happen, they're still at the Academy, and instead of punting Kirk they assign him to Spock under probation and Spock is actively one of Kirk's professors.

11. How do you begin a story--with the plot, or the characters?

Characters, by asking if there's any story there I'd want to tell for them in the first place. Sometimes that doesn't come along right away, but usually I can cook up a premise. Then it's seeing if I like it enough that I can get a plot up and running.

12. Are you what George R. R. Martin would call an "architect" or a "gardener"? (How much do you plan in advance, versus letting the story unfold as you go?)

Bigtime gardener. Sometimes I plant things that don't ever grow or need to be heavily pruned, but largely I don't write in order OR plot in order. Sometimes I write two scenes on opposite sides of the fic one right after another and use the results of the later scene to fill in the middle.

13. Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?

Robert E. Howard is unquestionably at the top, outstripping any competition by miles.

14. Any fandom tropes you can't resist?

I will make at least a cursory attempt to read any fuck or die fic no matter how much I dislike the writing style. That link will never be unclicked.

15. Any fandom tropes you can't stand?

SO many. I'm one of the pickier readers and both my kudos and bookmarks reflect it. Most in the form of AUs (coffee shop, college, domestic, etc.) are a hard pass for me, but it genuinely varies from fandom to fandom and even ship to ship within the same fandom. If I don't like something generally (i.e. omegaverse) there's almost always at least one very well-written exception to that somewhere.

16. Major character death--do you ever write/read it?

I've only read a handful of 'real' MCD fics. If the canon conceit is that death is actually temporary, I'll go in as long as the condition is guaranteed to be reversed in some way (rebirth, resurrection, reincarnation) for a happy ending. I have a couple sitting in the background that I hope I could turn into something really wrenching (with revival and happy endings!).

#erem writes #this has been sitting in my drafts folder for so long I have no idea if someone tagged me in it #long post

1 note · View note

thequietmanno1 · 2 years ago

Text

Thelreads, Vigilantes 82, Replies Part 1

1) “The Queen is down, the flames are starting to rise on the background, and the prom is tomorrow! Get ready for Chapter 83: High-speed Hero II

…

Huh… They wouldn’t- no, the wouldn’t. They definitely wouldn’t.”- In this case, the title is actually referring to Nomura’s own attempts to pattern himself after O’Clock as his heroic ‘debut’ in the public eye, which again highlights his lack of creativity with forging his own identity and choices in ways that don’t revolve around Knuckleduster’s old heroic persona. This stand in contrast to Knuckleduster’s actual protégée who, despite having a completely different power set, apparently has it in him to keep up with his Master’s original power in a modified body… 2) “Don`t worry Koichi, Texas red is already far away from here, he knows that he can`t match the ranger and your bigger iron”- That would imply Nomura has more common sense than he actually does. He’s smart at the planning and such, sure, but it’s clear he’s also got a few major blind spots in his thinking process, such as not considering other outcomes to the scenarios that he plans and sets up, which leads him to make poorly-thought out choices and reactions when things don’t got how he thought they would. Unveiling himself to Koichi and giving him a big motive rant is very dumb, but he thinks it’ll be fine to do it because he’s about to kill Koichi and disguise it as a consequence of Pop’s Beeombs going off, not considering other alternatives because he’s on the verge of getting what he wants and he just can’t resist the opportunity to rub it in Koichi’s face how h’s beaten the ‘chosen’ successor. It’s handy for him to be unknown when operating in the shadows, but he wants to step into the spotlight, to be noticed by others, and as a consequence of that, he wants Koichi to he’s got a mortal enemy after him as a final twist of the knife before he finishes him off. 3) “I mean, it`s not like things can get even worse for pop. For that to happen the author would need to give her a fucking break first.”- Well, for starters, Nomura’s determined to kill her no matter what to cover his tracks, and to that end, he’s now put this battle on a timer. Either Koichi can evade him and Endeavour long enough to reach Soga and the rest to extract the queen, of Pop explodes. No pressure. 4) “Oh my- are you actually steering your course in mid air rather than just going a straight line after her? Koichi my boy, did you finally learned how to fly?”- It’s all about Falling with Style, and working on a proper landing strategy. 5) “Now that was a cool landing, but how the hell did your shoes managed to take the impact like that? Did you got reinforced stuff for your soles as well? I at least don`t remember that, just the other protection pieces.”- He has force fields active underneath his feet to help with his speed boosting and direction changes in mid-air, so presumably they stop his shoes from getting too damaged whenever he pulls a superhero landing. 6) “Well, I mean, technically they already knew each other for a long time, he was the manager back at the store, but still, I wasn`t expecting him to actually reveal he was actually Backstabbington to Koichi this whole time.”- Asking somebody to pick Nomura out of a crowd is like asking somebody to pick a particular needle out of a haystack, especially with his facial disguising ability and usual genetic countenance. 7) “KOICHI WHAT THE FUCK HOW THE HELL DID YOU NOT RECOGNIZED HIM YOU FUCKING MORON HE`S USING THE EXACT SAME FACE FROM WHEN HE WAS MANAGING THE STORE”- The exact same dull, unnoticeable, nothing-remarkable-or-distinguishing-about-it face? I don’t blame Koichi for not recognising him, especially since he’s nowhere near close to Nomura in that capacity as Pop’s been. 8) “Well considering hoe lenient all the heroes you interacted with were so far I wouldn`t be surprised if this actually worked.”- Another reason Nomura capped all the heroes chasing after Pop was so nobody could interrupt him when he gave Koichi his little explanation of events before killing him, just to his ‘rival’ would know more about the reason he was being targeted out of nowhere. In a twisted manner, it’s almost considerate of him. 9) “You motherfucker you literally just used that gun to kill three heroes, are you telling me that it also can fire trigger-syringes into targets? what?”- He brought a swiss-army gun, prepared to both remotely detonate Pop from a distance discretely as well as eliminate any witnesses to his unsavoury actions. Granted, bullets to the head are a dead giveaway something’s up, but again, Nomura’s smart, but lacking in common sense.

(Vigilantes ch 81) 10) “Wait, weren`t the bees about to fucking explode her?

why he had to fucking shot her? He suddenly thought she had broken free from the parasite or something? Well, tough luck, the bees were still on their way to blow up, they respond to the song, and she wasn`t singing at that moment”-He had to shoot her with a special payload to make sure the bees would blow up as flashily as he needed them to. (Vigilantes ch 81) 11) “Again, why was the shot necessary?

Was to spite Koichi? Or was it to add contrived drama?”- Technically, it was to do both. Man’s got the grand finale all planned out, and he really wants to make it a doozy of a firework show. 12) “WAIT NO KOICHI WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU FALLING INTO HE`S LITERALLY TELLING YOU EVERYTHING HE DID AND YOU STILL THINK HE`S A HERO HERE TO HELP?

WHY A HERO WOULD HAVE A GUN AND A DRUG THAT COULD CONTROL THE BEES? IF THAT WAS AVAILABLE WHY WOULDN’T SOMEONE ALREADY SHOT HER? AND IT`S NOT LIKE THEY DIDN`T HAD A CLEAR SHOT, IF A FIRENADO CAN HIT HER THEN SO CAN A GUN”- I don’t think Koichi’s falling for it so much as he’s tuning him out after getting lost in the revelations Nomura’s trying to hit him with: disregarding these dramatic reveals and melodrama his enemy’s invoking for the sake of his heroic narrative on favour of actually trying to save somebody’s life. For somebody like Nomura, who wants to be acknowledged by others and stand out, that’s a major insult to him that Koichi’s accidentally delivering, but he doesn’t care because it’s finally his turn to be the hero. 13) “why the fuck did you turned all bishonen all of sudden? And being honest, Pop`s life wasn’t going bad before, things were going far, it just so happened that some changes were occurring, it wasn’t like it was the end of the world, not until you showed up that is.”- He turned bishonen here because he’s disregarded his ‘generic’ appearance in favour of subtly altering his looks into his ‘hero’ face, the appearance he intends to take going forward whilst operating as a hero. And he’s emphasising Pop’s life as a ‘tragedy’, despite that not being the case, because that’s the role he’s got planned out of her, and he’s already colouring the perceptions of those he meets into supporting his narrative. 14) “OH MY GOD PLEASE DON`T TELL ME THAT KOICHI STILL HASN`T FIGURED OUT WHAT YOU`RE TRYING TO SAY

THE ONLY THING THAT COULD MAKE IT MORE OBVIOUS IS A NEON SIGN SAYING “I`M THE BAD GUY DIPSHIT” POINTING AT YOU”- Well, in Koichi’s defence he’s being pretty roundabout in his manner of saying ‘I’m framing you as the villain here, pal’, going on tangents about pop being a tragic villain and admitting he shot her out of nowhere, so it’s clear that Koichi’s struggling to keep up with him…appropriately for a speedster. 15) “NOW PLEASE TELL ME THAT KOICHI ISN`T JUST SITTING THERE GOING “HUH?” AT WHAT HE`S SAYING”- You know our dumbass so well. And as an aside, I think ‘2 O’Clock’ would have been a better name for Nomura to pick. Rolls off the tongue better. 16) “Koichi please can you just fuck off from here while he monologues?

oh my god, he`s going to start explaining his whole evil scheme, isn`t he?”- He needs to kill time for the drug to kick in, Koichi’s just trying to make sense of these out-of-nowhere developments for him, since he’s literally had zero context for who this guy is or what would make him do this to Pop.

17) “Huh… *sideglances to Midoriya and Shigaraki* yeah, I start to think that I know where he`s trying to get to. And honestly, that`s not a problem, that is McBee trying to make himself a shonen hero, but honestly, that was a whole lot of convoluted bullshit to do this

So he wants Koichi to be a villain, and him to be a hero. The guy that is incredibly popular and borderline famous around the neighborhood and has been for the past three years as someone that helps and saves everyone in need, is a villain that was leading on Pop. Sure. If you say so.”- Nomura’s plan comes off as something thought up by a guy who read about comic book heroes and wanted to actually become one, but didn’t realise all the little hurdles and real-life obstacles that would stand in his way of achieving that dream. The principle is sound, but the execution and method is very, very flawed. 18) “Yeah we`re on a tight schedule here McBee, can you hurry up, Endeavor is probably on his way to kill everyone, like endeavor is famous for doing as the number two pro hero.”- Tighter than even that, since Koichi now has to outrun the clock on Endeavour catching up to him, and Pop’s self-detonation, all whilst being targeted by Nomura. 19) “Huh- Okay, because you certainly always seemed like the sort of guy to be crazy-prepared and that foresaw that Pop would falter in the last moment.”- He was always planning to make this a flashy detonation from the start, as befits his narrative, so he’d be prepared enough to achieve that at least, as evidenced by his special syringe-launching gun. 20) “Oh thank god you decided it was better to fuck off

Hell yeah, sliding with two contact points! That`s my boy, we`re in the moment to show what your quirk can do.”-Koichi has zero context for all the backstory that’s gone into this conflict and it’s honestly not relevant to what he needs to be doing right now: taking the opportunity to show off his sick skillz whilst saving Pop. 21) “I-

McBee, you don`t really you`re gonna get to him, do you? And worse, you kinda forgot that Endeavor is around here and he is probably getting closer and closer to cooling down, don`t you?

Like, this plan is pretty much set to failure, you won`t be able to fake a glory here.”- Pride goeth before a fall, and if there’s one major different between Nomura and Koichi is that he’s got a prideful streak in him that make him arrogant and overconfident in his capabilities, whilst Koichi’s humble nature actually handicaps all that he can do with his Quirk, because he doesn’t push himself to show off around others. 22) “Meh, I doubt it, I`d give it a week before everyone forgot about her.

And again, you don`t think you`ll be able to do something while Endeavor is here, do you? You`re fast, but he was like, less than two minutes away from getting back into murder mode. No way you`ll catch koichi before that.”-Nomura seems to have good social skills at dealing with individuals, but he seems completely unaware of how to handle the large-scale media attention and scrutiny that would come with being a Pro Hero. He knows he’s unmatched in one particular area, and assumes this means he’s capable of handling anything else that comes his way, when in actuality he’s over-specialised himself and is far less capable than he believes himself to be.

23) “Also, for someone that blew herself up, Pop sure seems whole in that shot, you really didn`t gave this whole thing much thought, did you McBee?”- Actually, going with the fact that Knuckleduster’s a Batman Expy, Nomura’s ‘O’Clock II’ persona is clearly styled after Nightwing, the superhero identity Robin created for himself after he quit being the boy wonder. Likewise, this shot of his carrying Pop’s body is evocative of the ending of Arkham City, where Batman did the same with the Joker’s body.

Like you said, this obviously won’t happen if she’s in pieces, and is a bad PR stunt for somebody who wants to make a career that’s all about saving people, but it showcases the flaws in Nomura’s thinking. He’s put all this thought into creating an evocative spectacle to make himself look good without really thinking it through, and clearly hasn’t actually considered that being known for failing to save somebody is a bad thing, but he’s too wrapped up in his envisioned imagery of his ‘ideal self’ to realise all this. @thelreads

#bnha vigilantes #bnha #my hero academia #thelreads #chapter replies #vigilantes 82

0 notes

makeadealwithdean · 2 years ago

Text

give it a try - s.h.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

words: 5k

summary: steve wants to try something new with his girlfriend.

warnings/tags: smut (18+ only, minors dni), unprotected sex, P in V, horny af!steve, dom!steve (duh it's me), squirting, fingering, oral- fem receiving, dirty talk, dacryphilia, established relationship, aftercare (it's important), hopefully i didn't miss anything

edit: tumblr keeps deleting/doubling my paragraphs, which is really annoying, so for when it inevitably does it again, the link to my AO3 is at the bottom for those of you who want a non-tumblr-edited-original version of the fic <3

“Hey, Y/N?” Steve turned to look at the girl sitting next to him on the couch. His girl.

“Mmm?” she hummed, turning her face towards him slightly, but her eyes remained on the TV in front of them. Movie night. With Steve’s job at Family Video, movie night was an obvious and easy choice for date night, but it was Steve’s favorite for other reasons.

“Can you squirt?” Straight to the point. They’d been dating for several months, so who was he to dodge the question? And with the mood he was in right now, he wasn’t sure he could’ve been subtle about it even if he’d tried. Steve’s head was nowhere near focused on the movie that was playing on screen, and like numerous movie nights in the past, he knew where tonight was going. So why not cut to the chase?

Steve didn’t even bother having the decency to look ashamed at his blatantly vulgar question. He simply shrugged in self-defense, “I was just thinking, baby. You’re so responsive when something’s buried deep in that sweet pussy of yours– my cock, fingers, whatever. Just wondering if that’s something you can do… Or do you even know?” He looked her straight in the eyes now, pupils blown wide with lust, clearly fixated on the image in his mind.

“Oh, um–” she blushed at his dirty words. He only spoke like this when he got really worked up, and sure enough, when her gaze traveled to his lap, his jeans were stretched tight and tenting already. His eyes were still locked on hers when she looked back into his face, and he reached down, palming and adjusting himself as she tried to stutter out an answer to his question. “Jesus, Steve, I don’t know– I don’t think– I mean, I’ve never…before.” She swallowed hard, cheeks red, and at a loss for words.

Steve had stopped really listening after her timid “I don’t know,” and he wasn’t particularly proud of his inability to hold himself back, but as soon as she trailed off, he blurted, leaning forward, his hand on her thigh, “Well, can we try? I mean, can I try– to make you squirt? I think you can do it, Y/N, and God, it would be so fucking hot. Haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since I had the idea, and shit– it’s been driving me crazy, baby.”

Y/N just stared at him blankly, part of her still shocked at his forwardness, and part of her, he hoped, was imagining it too. “I mean, yeah– fuck– yeah we can try it, but swear you won’t be upset if it turns out I can’t?”

Steve turned to face her completely at that and reached to gather her up in his arms. His fluffy and perfectly-styled-as-usual hair tickled her cheek. He placed a kiss on her head, chuckling, “Oh, baby, of course not. I could never be upset with you over something like that. I doubt you could control it anyway. Worst case scenario, you don’t squirt, but you still get a pretty damn awesome orgasm out of it. What’d’ya say, hmm? You wanna try it right now? The movie can wait, but I don’t think I can.”

She giggled at his eagerness, nodding her head, and Steve leapt to his feet, his brown eyes sparkling with excitement, as he dragged her up with him. He took hold of her hand and led her upstairs as fast as his sock-covered feet would let him without slipping. He let go of her hand and ducked into the upstairs bathroom to grab a clean towel.

When he came back to his bedroom, she was sprawled on his bed, on her back, looking like a dream. He dropped the towel on the floor by his bed and ran, throwing himself onto the mattress, landing beside her with a bounce. He turned on his side— head bent over hers, planting quick kisses all over her face while his hands wandered along the curves of her body. She squealed and laughed, squirming away and pushing him back with her hands on his chest like he was tickling her.

“Steve! Thought you wanted to make me squirt, not smother me to death with kisses!” she laughed, and Steve responded by rutting his hard cock against her thigh, letting her feel just how much he still intended to make her feel good, “Oh, I will— but patience, baby, is a virtue,” he smirked against her neck, dropping open-mouthed kisses on her baby-soft skin.

She whimpered as he found her sweet spot, “I thought—” she panted, “I thought, you ‘couldn’t wait any longer.��” Her teasing didn’t have quite the intended effect, though, when her words dissolved into soft whines as Steve suckled harshly, leaving a not-quite-subtle marking on her neck.

“That was before I had your pretty ass in my bed, darlin’,” he breathed into her ear. “Now, I’m gonna draw this out as long as I feel like it, and you’re gonna be my good girl and let me, aren’t you?” Her breath hitched in her throat at the words he murmured in that dominant tone she loved so much. She nodded frantically, any smartass comments she’d been preparing dissolving like every thought in her brain other than Steve.

But her nods weren’t enough for Steve; he wanted to hear the breathlessness in her voice again, the soft high-pitched whines she’d make when she— “Use your words for me, baby.” His tone was soft, but there was no questioning the fact that he expected to be obeyed. So she did.

Her brain was jumbled, but she managed to link enough words together to tell him, “I-I’ll be good for you, Steve.”

He smiled that little cocky smirk of his, “That’s my girl. Now, let’s get you undressed for me, baby, hmm?”

“‘Kay,” she murmured softly, already looking a bit dazed, and he’d barely even touched her yet. Fuck. She looked so pretty laying all sprawled out and ready for him. He sat back on his heels and reached for the waistband of her jeans. His fingers dipped just barely under the fabric brushing along the skin of her waist. No matter how many times he touched her, he knew he’d never get over the softness of her skin. It just made her seem all the more sweet and innocent, despite the fact that Steve knew that she was anything but.

She hummed softly at his touch, hips lifting slightly off the bed, as if to encourage him to move it along. Steve chuckled, a soft “Patience” leaving his lips, and she scrunched up her face at his command, but stopped squirming. He leaned forward, hands still hovering around the button of her jeans, and pressed a kiss to her lips as a reward for listening to him the first time. She smiled her soft, pretty smile, and avoided his gaze, suddenly shy at the display of sweet intimacy. There was that innocent look of hers again.

“Fuck,” Steve swore aloud— that look was gonna be the death of him, he already knew it. He knew he’d just told her to be patient, but Jesus, he was about two seconds away from snapping himself. He popped the button of her jeans and shimmied them, along with her simple lace panties, down her legs, tossing them onto his floor without a second thought. Normally he liked to take his time (even now he was trying) and undress her slowly, one article of clothing at a time, but right now, despite his best efforts, all he could think about was getting her naked underneath him.

He slid his hands up her thighs, squeezing them as he went, watching as his girl lay, still hiding her face under her forearm. He could just make out her smile though, and when he reached the hem of her shirt, he pulled her up into him, “C’mere, honey. Let’s get you out of this, okay? Then m’gonna make you squirt, and you’re gonna feel so, so good.”

She was pliable in his arms, willingly following every guidance he gave her, and within seconds, her shirt had joined the rest of her clothes on the floor of the bedroom. Steve’s fingers had a mind of their own, so after pulling the cups of her bra down and letting her breasts spill out, he pinched and squeezed her nipples before reaching around behind her and unfastening the clasp. Laying her back down with not a piece of fabric left on her, Steve couldn’t help but lean over her and take one of her pretty little peaks in his mouth. His hand covered the other, fingers and thumb rolling her nipple in between, and she moaned, whining as her hands threaded through his hair.

He made his way slowly down her body, kissing, caressing, biting as he went. Her moans only got louder, but he’d only gotten down to her stomach before she stopped him with a gentle hand and a soft whine, “Stevie?”

He lifted his head, somewhat reluctantly, “Yes, baby?”

She tugged lightly on the neck of his shirt, “Off, please?” She gave him her best pleading eyes because she knew that he enjoyed having her naked while he was fully clothed. Fortunately for her, Steve knew he couldn’t resist those eyes, or at least, it was really difficult to, and he didn’t feel like wasting any more time. He was desperate and willing to admit that to himself. He reached back and shucked his shirt off, tossing it on the floor and resuming his worshiping of her body.

Steve licked and bit down gently at the skin around her hip bones. God, he loved her skin, soft and warm, and when he ran his tongue along her curves, she tasted like just the tiniest bit of salt. He loved it– he breathed in her scent and left scattered marks all around her hips and waist for her to fuss at him for later. But he couldn’t help it. He loved seeing his marks on her the next day.

He was always telling her that in his eyes, there was nothing she could do to make herself any more or less attractive to him. She was simply perfect to him in every way. And that was true– there wasn’t anything she could do, but he, he could make her his. And yeah, if that was wrong, then he was guilty as charged, but damn, those red and purple bruises his love left on her just did something to him. He was the type to be proud of his work. The memories of making them and the fantasies of doing it again gave him a thrill he couldn't explain.

Y/N gasped softly as Steve ghosted his lips along her upper thighs. His fingertips pressed gently into the plush of her skin as he pushed her legs up to bend at the knee and then slowly pried them apart. She whined with impatience, but now that Steve was getting somewhere, he was perfectly content to make her wait a bit. He dragged the tip of his finger slowly up her slit and watched as she squirmed under his touch.

Steve tsked at her, “Uh, uh, uh, be still, Y/N. C’mon, I know you wanna be good for me, angel.” She hummed in response and tried her best to be still— her brow furrowing in concentration. Steve couldn’t wait to ruin her. He ducked his head down to blow on her most sensitive area, impressed when she remained still, even though he heard a tiny whine in her throat. His thumbs parted her lips, exposing her clit to the cool air, and when he licked that first broad stripe right up her entrance, she let out a strangled mix between a gasp and a moan.

He left kitten licks all around her slit, slowly feeling her get wetter and wetter until she was practically dripping all over his bedspread. He took that as a sign that it was time to get the towel he’d grabbed earlier. He pulled off of Y/N reluctantly, and she whined “Stevieee,” clearly unhappy he was no longer in between her legs.

“Shh, shh, honey,” Steve hovered above her again in a second, showing her the towel. “I’m not leavin’ you, but I’m gonna put this down underneath you, okay? C’mon, lift up for me, baby.”

She did as he asked immediately, and he settled back between her thighs like he’d never left. “There, now. I’m about to make you feel so good if you let me. You gonna let me?”

“Yes, Steve, just please touch me again,” she begged so pretty, and Steve couldn’t help but oblige. He parted her pretty lips again, and when his tongue made contact with her clit once more, he positioned his finger at her entrance, slowly tracing around it until her breathing hitched just slightly. Once she relaxed, he took the opportunity to slip his finger inside, earning the sweetest moan from her. Damn. She was so soaked with that sweet slick that her pussy practically sucked in that first digit he offered her, so he quickly added another, moaning as he watched his fingers enter her slowly again and again.

He stretched her carefully and gently so as not to hurt her, but with the way she was tossing her head back, hips bucking ever so slightly, trying to get friction from his fingers, he almost didn’t think he could if he tried. God, she was just so beautifully responsive.

But he wanted more from her. He crooked his fingers up into her spongy walls, pressing until he found the spot that made her jump. Her thighs were shaking now, threatening to close around his head, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love that, but he needed them open now. He spat on her clit, and she moaned at the sound. Filthy girl, Steve thought, smirking. He sat up on his knees, holding her thighs open with his body.

His thumb found her clit and quickly pressed and rubbed at it in a circular pattern that had her head thrashing from side to side on the pillow. Her arms came up to cover her eyes as his fingers struck up a rhythm too, thrusting repeatedly into her g-spot. Her hips matched his movements in no time, so that she was practically riding his hand.

He’d never seen something so hot before, and suddenly, he remembered the pain below his belt. He reached down, abandoning her clit for a second, despite protests and whines from her, and popped the button on his jeans, yanking the zipper down to give himself some much needed relief. He was still painfully hard, but at least he wasn’t being restricted by the tight denim anymore, and now that his need wasn’t as urgent, he returned his focus to her.

She was whining and begging, mostly incoherent at this point, unable to say much more than “Please, Steve, please,” with that breathy, high-pitched whine of hers. Thrashing around, thrusting lewdly onto his fingers, nearly in tears with desperation for the same kind of friction he’d given her moments ago.

“Y/N, baby, baby. Be still, darlin’, one more time for me, m’kay. M’gonna make you see stars, sweet girl,” Steve promised her. The noise that fell from her lips only served to make him harder, which he didn’t even think was possible. He placed his hand flat on her stomach, still thumbing her clit, and pressed down. He was convinced he could feel his own fingers curving and pressing up inside of her. He groaned as her head tossed from side to side, and she keened for him.

“Stevie, Steve–” she panted, hands reaching for his as if to stop him or slow down his movements, but her fingers just wrapped around his wrist loosely, trying anything to ground herself. “I think– God, I– think I’m gonna, Stevie– you gotta stop before I–” Her grip on his wrist tightened, but Steve wasn’t slowing down for anything, other than her safeword.

“It’s okay, baby. You won’t. Just gonna come so hard, Y/N– I want you to fucking soak me, princess, yeah? Let go for me, okay? Let go,” Steve leaned forward, careful not to disturb his rhythm, since it seemed to be doing exactly what he’d been hoping for. Her eyes were either wide, watching his face and his forearms as he finger-fucked her relentlessly, or screwed shut so tightly her whole face scrunched up.

He could hear his heartbeat in his ears as she got even louder. Thank god his parents weren’t home, because they’d definitely be able to hear her whining and moaning his name. He wasn’t totally sure his neighbors couldn’t hear it, but with every noise she made, he felt closer and closer to living his fantasy. He wanted her to squirt all over him– he needed it. He wanted to taste her sweet juices more than anything, and when he felt the first clench around his fingers, he couldn’t help but gasp out her name, “Oh, Y/N, that’s right, baby. C’mon, sweet girl. Let it go, I know you can, baby. Wanna feel you soak me, Y/N, c’mon–”

Steve was rambling, but Y/N always said simply hearing his voice helped get her off, so he kept going. He wasn’t focused on what he was saying, but every word seemed to cause her pussy to tighten, and he was so worked up himself he felt like he could come untouched, and wouldn’t that be something?

Y/N made a strangled noise like she was crying, and he felt something warm and wet coating his fingers, dripping down her hole. Fuck, this was it– his biggest fantasy about to come true. She gasped loudly, “Steve!” and suddenly, she was convulsing, her eyes rolling back, and a stream of clear liquid was gushing all over Steve, his hand, his arm, his chest, his face. The towel was soaked, and honestly, with the amount that had just arced out of her, he doubted it did much to protect his comforter, but obviously, he wasn’t upset about it. Her cunt was still pulsing around his fingers as her fucked her through it. She was still moaning as her head tossed gently now from side to side, not violently like before.

Once he was sure she’d finished coming down, he slipped his fingers out of her gently, trying his best not to startle her. Her eyelids fluttered, and she looked at him exhausted. He’d never seen her look more fucked out. “Holy shit, baby,” he huffed, shocked. “That was fucking incredible! Didn’t even know that was actually possible, that much I mean. You’re so fucking amazing, angel.”

Y/N hummed happily in acknowledgment, rubbing her eyes, and opened her mouth, “Taste?”

Steve chuckled in disbelief, “Fuck, baby. Yeah, you can fucking taste, shit, that’s hot as hell, Y/N.” He placed the fingers that were coated in her slick on her waiting tongue, and she wasted no time in sucking his fingers clean, moaning wantonly, like she knew exactly what she was doing to him. He reached down, gathering her juices that had landed on his chest, and licked the taste of her off his fingers. He couldn’t help fisting his cock with his other hand for any kind of relief– it was getting difficult to ignore the throbbing in his dick now. “So sweet, Y/N. Tastes so fucking good, honey. Like candy. God, I wanna make you squirt forever.”

Y/N giggled under him. “You can later, Stevie, but please, fuck me? Wanna come around your cock– Don’t you wanna feel me, baby? So fucking wet for you–” She wiggled her hips to emphasize her point, drawing Steve’s eyes once again to her dripping pussy. He leaned forward, hovering above her on one elbow, still jacking himself, and his lips met hers in a searing kiss. He tasted her slick on her lips and moaned into the kiss, licking into her mouth, opening her up for him as he lined himself up at her entrance. His tip kissed her slit and dragged up and down her folds. She whined into the kiss as protest, for him to hurry it up already, and Steve wasn’t about to argue with her. They’d both waited long enough.

Without breaking the kiss, Steve positioned himself at her still-weeping hole, giving her only a second before he began to press inside. He moved slowly– there was little resistance because she was so soaked, but she was also unbelievably tight, as if her squirting had caused her muscles to contract tighter than before he’d opened her up. He moaned as she allowed his tip inside. She gasped as he pushed in slowly, inch by inch. Eventually, he was fully seated inside her, his head dropping down to rest on her shoulder. He panted, gasping, needing to move more than anything, but determined to wait until she gave him the ‘go ahead.’

Thankfully, a few seconds later, her head was nudging his gently, and she was whining in his ear, “Move, please, Stevie?”

That was all Steve needed to hear. He turned his head to lay kisses on her neck and slowly rocked his hips back and forth. Gently, at first, then faster and faster, until he was pounding into her. The blood rushed in his ears, and all he could hear was her moans every time he slammed into her and the slapping of skin against skin.

He scraped his teeth along her neck, sucking bruises and tiny marks into her skin, before pushing up off of her. He yanked her hips forward, pulling her closer, and pulled her legs up to rest on his shoulders. His hands massaged the skin of her hips, so soft and smooth. God, he loved this girl. His girl.

This new angle allowed him to penetrate her even deeper than before, and by the sweet sounds she made, he guessed he was pounding against her cervix. Like reading his thoughts, Y/N groaned out, “Steve, baby, you’re so deep, I think I can feel you in my tummy!”

She knows me like a soulmate, Steve thought, but what he said was simply a grunt and “Yeah, baby? Bet you like that, dontcha? Bet you love bein’ able to feel me that deep, honey. Such a slut for that, aren’t ya? Such a slut for me, squirting all over me like a pornstar, so fucking sexy, Y/N!” Steve’s hair was damp with sweat, so he shoved it back off his forehead. He was breathing hard, but no way he was letting himself come until she came again, and he knew he couldn’t last much longer.

With one goal in mind, he pulled out, much to Y/N’s disappointment. She whined immediately, “Stevie!” He grabbed her waist and flipped her quickly onto her stomach. She huffed and grunted at the sudden movement, but Steve just laughed, “Oh, really? You’re gonna lay there and fuss at me when all I’ve done is made you squirt–” He gave her ass a hard smack. “Made you come.” Smack. “And fucked the shit out of you?” Smack.

Her moans were muffled slightly by the pillows, “M’sorry, Stevie! ‘m just so close!” She wriggled underneath him, pushing up on her hands and knees, and pressed her ass back against his leaking cock, trying desperately to get him to fill her. His hand came down on her ass again hard, “Be still, sweets. You’ll take what I give you, ‘kay?” She nodded frantically, slumping down so her cheek was pressed into the pillows again, but still very much presenting her leaking hole.

Steve groaned at the sight of her, waiting for him, legs spread, and pumped his cock a couple times before ramming back into her. She made noises somewhere in between a grunt and a moan every time his hips met her ass, but Steve wanted more from her. He slipped his fingers in the crease where her hips turned to thighs and yanked back hard over and over again.

He slammed into her repeatedly, still chasing his goal of making her come again before he let himself go. She was just so fucking tight it was hard for him to focus. Tonight was about her pleasure though– for his pleasure, of course, but if he got off on watching her enjoy herself, then at least they’d both be satisfied.

Steve threaded his fingers through her hair gently, before grabbing on and pulling, forcing her head up off the bed. His hand moved down to her throat then, his other arm wrapping around her waist as he pulled her up to rest against him, her back to his chest. He kept his rhythm steady, but leaned down to press kisses into her neck.

Her head tossed back onto his shoulder, and he couldn’t help growling in her ear, “Fuck yeah, baby. Betcha like that, hm? Love feeling me in you–” He sucked a bruise into her neck, just under her ear, and she moaned at the feeling, her cunt clenching around him. “Ooh, that felt good too, hm?” Steve teased. “My princess likes a little pain, but we knew that, didn’t we?”

Y/N responded only with a moan, but Steve could tell she was close. His hand ghosted over her clit, letting her know he knew what she needed. But he wanted a verbal answer from her first. “Getting close, hm? You gonna come around my cock like the good girl I know you are?” Y/N turned her head to look him in the eyes as best as she could, and Steve felt a thrill at seeing tears streaming down her face. Her mascara was running, and he thought, somewhat guiltily, that she’d never looked more beautiful.

“C’mon, sweet girl, let me hear it. Wanna hear how close you are,” Steve loved how fucking wrecked she looked, and when she stuttered out a choked “Yes– sir. M’so fucking close–” he immediately moved his hand where she needed him most. His two fingers rubbed circles over her clit, falling into a rhythm that had her whining and whimpering against his chest. “Yeahhh, baby,” he praised her. “That’s my good fucking girl. I got you, babe– shit. C’mon, honey.”

“Oh,” she gasped. “Steve! I’m– close, gonna come! Can I, please?”

“Yeah, that’s right, Y/N. Soak my fucking dick with that pretty pussy of yours. Lemme hear it, baby,” Steve was almost at the tipping point himself. How couldn’t he be, with her pretty form writhing against him in pleasure? Her gasps were getting more high-pitched, and he could feel her walls fluttering around him, so he kept his fingers moving quickly over her sensitive bud.

“Steve! Oh, m’coming, Steve!” Her head was tossed back on his shoulder, eyes screwed tightly shut, lost in the feeling of him. “Fuckkkk– so… good!” she panted, her cheek pressed into his chest. Her cunt clenched and squeezed around his dick, and it was all too much for Steve. Between her sighs of pleasure and the milky white ring forming around the base of his dick, he couldn't hold back a second longer.

“Fuckkk, baby! Shit– babe, you’re so– fuckin’ good… for me,” Steve was having trouble stringing coherent thoughts together, but he did his best to remind her just how fucking amazing she was. Fucking her through both their highs, he babbled filthy praises in her ear– first clutching her tight to his chest, and then slowly laying her down on her stomach. Once he was sure he wouldn’t hurt or startle her, he slipped out, still earning a little whimper from Y/N. She always hated the transition from full to empty-feeling.

He rolled off to her side, pressing a gentle kiss to her bare shoulder. She blinked sleepily at him, and he brushed her sweaty hair away from her face with the gentlest of touches. “You’re so fucking amazing, sweet girl. Squirted n’everything. You did so, so good for me.”

Y/N smiled at his praise and nuzzled into him. She looked about two seconds away from a dead sleep, so Steve found the towel he’d laid down to protect his bed and kissed her cheeks to keep her awake a little longer, “Hey, hey, hey, let me get you cleaned up right quick before you sleep, alright? C’mon, honey.” She whined and protested, but eventually let him carry her into his bathroom. He set her down on the toilet because “y’know you gotta get all that yucky stuff outta you, baby,” and wet a washcloth to clean off her tear-stained and mascara-streaked cheeks.

Her forehead tilted onto his shoulder as he crouched beside her to wipe her face. “Aw, baby, I know you’re tired. All finished so we can go to bed?” She nodded bleary-eyed and stood up to flush and wash her hands. Steve didn’t miss the tremble in her legs. He smirked to himself, but scooped her up when she was done and carried her to the bed.

“Okay, princess. Here we are,” Steve laid her down and fixed her pillows the way she liked them, making sure she was tucked in under the sheets before stripping the top comforter off the bed. “Gotta wash that tomorrow, cause making my girl feel good gets a little messy, hm?” Y/N smiled softly, eyes already closed, and Steve grabbed her favorite blanket from where he kept it for her. He spread it over the top of the bed before slipping under the sheets beside her.

He pulled her into his chest, sighed contently, and let sleep wash over them both.

here’s my eddie fic if you’re an eddie stan!

masterlist // AO3

a/n: thank you very much to my lovely betas, @writercole @huffle-pissed @evergreencowboy who read this bravely, since it's the first thing i've written in like 3 months jksjksjs

join my taglist here!

forever tags: @evergreencowboy @deanwanddamons @katelyn--renee @lassie-bird @jensengirl83 @superfanficnatural @deangirl93 @that-one-gay-girl @writercole @flamencodiva

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve x reader #steve x reader smut #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfic #st fics #joe keery #joe keery smut #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #makeadealwithdean #1k

2K notes · View notes

cardanapologist · 2 years ago

Text

Under the Tables

I WROTE THIS BASED ON THIS POST BY @i-admit-i-am-dumb <3333333

***

Cardan watches Jude uneasily take a cup of wine from a nearby servant, nodding her head in thanks. She glances down at it with the usual frown on her face, swirling the red drink around in the cup. It’ll be her first drink of the night, while Cardan has already had 3. He’s nowhere near as drunk as he usually is at revels, choosing to bear the festivities not sober, but Jude is not a drinker like him. Instead, he watches her take small slips, wincing at the taste before setting the cup aside.

The same servant comes back up the dais and bends his head as he offers her a platter of what Jude describes as finger food, though that makes Cardan wrinkle his nose as he imagines unpleasant things.

She pushes the platter away with a small, “No thank you” and then reaches for her cup again, not so much to drink, but to busy herself so it looks like she doesn’t want meddling servants to keep offering her things just for her to reject them.

Several moments later, she catches his eye, and the scowl on her face deepens just a little bit more. “What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Cardan says, resting his chin delicately in his palm. He leans towards her. She’s all too far away on this dais, their throne-like chairs set several feet away from each other. He makes a mental note to amend this for next time. He should have learned of the structure of the dais and seating arrangements before this revel. It’s their first one after all. The staff didn’t know how to seat two royals on the dais.

“You clearly have something you wish to say.”

“Do I?” he replies innocently.

He takes her in silently.

She’s picked out a dark dress for tonight, though he can hardly say she had a choice. All the dresses he’s gifted her after their marriage and her return from the mortal world have been similar in darkness, but not in style. While some dresses have extra ruffles or a distinct neckline, they’re all dark shades of several colors. Maroon, navy blue, black, forest green, and his favorite dark purple.

The last one is the one she wears, a dress that comes down to her feet, her shoulders left bare, and a corset that accentuates her waist. The only thing that stands out from the dark colors is the white of her corset laces, which she may have tied a little too tightly, he thinks, judging by the way her chest rises and falls with each trembling breath.

Or, he realizes, she’s nervous.

“These revels,” he says, gesturing lazily at the crowd and orchestra, “are meant for merriment and celebration. This one in particular is intended to celebrate your return. So why then are you unhappy?”

She frowns. “I am not unhappy. I’m having a great time.”

Cardan clicks his tongue. “Liar liar. What an awful trait to have.”

She shoots him a look. “I am not lying. I really do think all this is great. I’m happy I’m not being hunted or killed or held for ransom.”

“But?”

“But what? Nothing. But nothing.”

“What makes you so uncomfortable you cannot eat or drink properly? Much less sit without fidgeting. Is it the amount of people? I assure you that was not my doing. It was all your sister. I believe she still thinks she has to make things up to you. Take it up with her.”

“It’s not that.”

“Is it the food, then? Does the magic still not allow you to enjoy our food?”

“That’s not it either.”

Cardan reaches for his cup and pointedly takes a sip. “I assure you it is not poisoned.”

Her eyes flash. “I wasn’t too concerned about being poisoned tonight. Not that you’d even notice if you were poisoned. You act the same way drunk.”

He’s grinning now. He tilts his head down so his crown falls a bit lower than his brow, which he catches quickly before it can fall to the floor. “Then what is it? And do not tell me it is nothing. Quickly tell me what it is so I can fix it immediately. Is it the music? Shall I ask them to change it? Is it the throne? I’ve already decided I need to have a word with the staff about the seating. Or is it the–”

“Cardan,” she says quickly under breath, her jaw tense, “it is nothing of concern.”

“It is,” he replies. “Tell me what it is.”

Jude’s eyes narrow, but she doesn't speak. Much to his frustration. She looks back at the crowd of dancing people and drums her fingers against her arm rests, refusing to look at him. Nervously, she tucks her hair behind her ear, revealing the gold jewelry embedded in her unusual round ears, matching the delicate gold chains around her faux horns. She’s made them extra tight today it seems. Usually, by the end of the day, her hair is beginning to unravel, but not today. Everything about her is impeccable, unruffled.

She looks every bit like the Queen.

And yet she twists her fingers anxiously and keeps switching from crossing her legs to crossing her ankles, to leaving her feet flat against the floor.

He will not tolerate it. One night off is what she deserves.

Cardan suddenly stands, making several revel goers glance at him cautiously. A few stop dancing, stepping away from the dais to give him room. Jude slants a look at Cardan and narrows her eyes again.

He holds his hand out. “Come. We’ll dance.”

“What?” she hisses. “Now?”

“Yes. Now.”

“Way to do this in front of everyone. Now I can’t even say no.”

“I do not think you’d want to say no to your husband anyways. Not about a dance at least.” He smiles when she takes his hand, waiting for her to adjust her dress so she’s not tripping over it as she follows him, descending from the dais.

The music continues merrily, many revel goers taking steps back, making a path for the King and Queen. Jude ducks her head to hide her face, nearly walking into Cardan’s back when he abruptly stops in the middle of the floor. He turns back and takes her waist, but not before announcing to the dancers, “Please, do not stop. Keep the festivities alive!”

And with that command from their king, the dancers and citizens resume their dancing, stealing glances at Cardan and Jude whenever possible.

Jude is unmoving, now staring up at him with her dagger-like eyes. He only smiles back and tightens his fingers on her waist, just below her tight corset. He tugs her closer and gently begins to sway. It takes several long seconds before her legs give way, falling into a small step pattern with him.

“This is very obviously a security hazard,” she says, looking around them now. She can’t look over his shoulder due to his height, so she chooses to look around his torso instead. “Anyone could stab you right now and be done with you.”

“I am more at a risk of my own wife doing so rather than a stranger.”

She scowls. “I’ve never actually stabbed you.”

“How many times have you threatened to?”

“Not enough.”

“As for the security,” Cardan says, sweeping her around suddenly, making her clutch onto his biceps. “You’ve done all that you could about it. There are about 10 guards at every entrance of the Palace. I’ve never felt safer, and you should feel safe too.”

“You can never be too careful,” Jude grumbles, letting his arms go. He pauses their movements and reaches for her wrists, tugging her hands so they clasp behind his neck. The movement makes her stumble closer to him, and then he returns his hands.

“Come on, wife,” he says quietly. “We’ve done this before.”

“I hated that night,” Jude replies instantly, her jaw tight, likely from the mere memory of it. But there’s a scarlet blush over her cheeks. He finds it amusing. “I’ve hated several of these revels in fact. They were always fun for everyone but rarely for Taryn and I.”

As Cardan gently moves them, he thinks back about seeing her at the previous parties. He seems to remember what she’d been doing at nearly all of them, and the realization would have struck his stomach in a nauseous way a year ago. Now, he accepts it. He’d always been watching her. It comes handy during moments like this.

He recalls the first revel he saw her at. There were talks about mortals in Elfhame, and at the first mention of the twins, he scoffed and rolled his eyes and groused about them to his friends. He’d predicted what they’d look like. He recalls telling his friends that he assumed the mortals were dull creatures, too ugly and plain to be considered things of beauty to marvel at. He imagined they had bug eyes and unnatural hair colors. He assumed they had sharp teeth and gangly limbs that made them awkward to look at. “I pity them,” he’d said to his friends who had laughed in response. “To be that ugly and stupid…it must be a nightmare. I would simply end my life.”

The night that he first saw Taryn and Jude did little to change his perception about mortals being stupid, but some cracks formed in his ideas about them all being ugly.

“Those are the twins,” Nicasia had leaned in and told him with a grimace. “They’re so plain looking. Look at their dresses.”

“What are their names?” he’d asked, staring at one of them in particular.

“Jude and Taryn. My parents said so.”

“Which one is which?”

“I don’t know. I can’t tell.”

He gave her a peculiar look. “You can’t tell? But they look so different.”

And Nicasia had given him that same look back. “They’re identical. Anyways, I do not care about which one is which. Let’s get a drink.”

They were different, Cardan recalls. Everything from their hair to their face to their dresses. They were polar opposites, and he did not learn who was who until several days later when they’d showed up to lessons, huddled with each other.

Because of Madoc’s status and role, Cardan saw the twins more often than not at the revels. When they first arrived, they looked lost like deer. Their heads whipped anxiously at every noise, trying to hide behind each other. One of them, Taryn, always managed to hide behind Jude. And they always held hands, he remembers, smiling. Their hands were always tightly clasped, making them inseparable.

Jude frowns. “What is so funny?”

“I’m recalling the previous revels.”

“Yes, because the death of your entire family must have been a fun night.”

Cardan ignores the jab. Instead, he turns them around and wraps his arms around her waist, tucking her closer. “I remember,” he says, looking over her head, “the first time you got into trouble at one of the revels. We couldn’t have been more than 12 years of age. You got separated from your sister and couldn’t find her.”

Jude’s eyes darken at the mention of that year. “Mhm.”

“And you’d asked for help to find her,” he says, unblinking, still recalling. “But you asked the wrong people. Some older kids, right? And they’d commanded you to dance instead. It took hours for someone to realize something was wrong and for your father to get you out of the dance circle.”

Jude is quiet for some time, and he blinks, glancing back at her. She has one of those infuriating expressions on, the ones he can’t read. “You knew,” she says finally. “You watched it happen.”

“I did.”

“You were very cruel for not helping.”

“I was.”

They don’t say anything after that, just swaying along with the music. Her skirts brush against his legs, but he always manages to move away before he can step on the expensive fabric of her dress and cause them both to tumble. He continues through his memories.

“For a while,” he starts up again, opting for a different memory than the bombardment of bad memories that arise in his head. Of all the times he watched and did not help. “For a while, I wondered why you and Taryn would hide under the tables.”

He feels Jude stiffen under his touch. She stops moving, frowning up at him. “What?”

“The tables,” he says. “You hid under them. For several hours sometimes. It was intriguing. I wondered why you did that. Why you chose to be away from the festivities and simply talk under the tables. What could be so important?”

He shrugs and gently steers her away from a group of kids dancing so she doesn’t fall against them. She’s staring up at him with her mouth slightly ajar.

“But I know now that with all the people messing with you, it was the only safe place. I just found it interesting. You’d be there one moment and then gone the next. Several times, I thought you managed to find a way out of the party without alarming your father, but it wasn’t until later that I saw you and Taryn crawl out from under a table that I realized it.” He smiles. “Sometimes I grew jealous. I too would have liked to be under the tables with a friend, hidden from everyone’s eyes. Once, I thought about joining you and your sister under. But by then, you weren’t particularly fond of me and I’d already made up my mind about hating you.”

He takes a breath. “You were such a strange child. Now you’re an even stranger woman. Only I’ve become used to it now, I suppose.”

Jude bites down on her lower lip. She swallows. “Is that why you joined me under the table that night?”

“You punched me and made me double over. I did not have a choice. I do not think I could have walked even if I wanted to after that.”

“You know what I mean.”

His eyes refocus. “I think so. I am not sure. I was very drunk. When it all started happening, it became unbearably loud in the hall. People running, children crying.” He winces and lowers his voice. To avoid other listeners, he pulls her closer and bucks his head, his cheek against her hair and mouth against her beautifully round ear to ensure she’s the only one hearing him speak. She shivers but lets him. “I saw the guards by the entrances. I saw your sister. I saw Madoc and Oak and Oriana, but I did not see you.”

Realization strikes her features. “You knew it would be me under the table when you lifted the cloth.”

Cardan laughs though he doesn't find anything funny about the bitter memory. “It took a few tries to find the correct table, my dear, but yes. If anyone was under those tables, it would be you.”

She looks up at him with that expression again, the one he cannot read. “You said…” she struggles to speak as if trying to recall that night. Her eyes briefly flutter shut and then reopen. “You said that it wasn’t safe for me.”

“It was not.”

“What were you going to do? Once you found me? It wasn’t safe, but what else? What else could you do? Do you recall?”

“No,” he replies truthfully. “I don’t remember much from that night.” There’s a reason why they do not talk about it often. “But I do remember feeling glad that I got to be under that table. Even if it were my last few minutes alive. And even if you physically made me incapable of walking.”

Jude is quiet after that. Her legs move mechanically as he sways them closer to the dais. The dancers have made another path for them and while she’s lost in her thoughts, she’s more pliable. He moves her closer without having to argue with her, and finally when they stop in front of the sais, the music pauses, allowing dancers to take a break before the next dance begins. He drops his hands.

“Revels,” he says quietly, “have not treated you well. I see that. Perhaps as Queen, you will not feel the need to hide under tables or away from your people. They are, after all, here for you.”

She blinks up at him. “It’s been hard,” she says, gathering her dress to make it easier to walk back up the stairs to their seats.

“That is why I urge you to take after me and have some drinks.”

He’s relieved to see the corner of her mouth raise slightly as she nods. He takes her hand and brings it to his mouth, dotting light kisses to her knuckles. In response, she gently holds his crown so it does not fall. Then, he clasps her hand and helps her up the stairs and into her seat.

When they sit down on opposite chairs, he glances over at her. She looks more relaxed, though still in her thoughts. Feeling his eyes on her, she looks back at him. Stares for many seconds and then says almost inaudibly, “We don’t have to hide under tables anymore.”

“No, dearest,” Cardan replies softly. “We do not.”

#I HAVEN'T WRITTEN FOR THEM IN SO LONG EEEEEEEE #CARDAN AND JUDE #THE FOLK OF THE AIR #JURDAN #cardan x jude #jude x cardan #THE CRUEL PRINCE #THE QUEEN OF NOTHING #THE WICKED KING

172 notes · View notes

labarch · 4 years ago

Text

Attempt at a Witch Hat Atelier timeline

We are still missing a lot of backstory for our main cast, but I thought I’d try and write a timeline based on what we know so far, and explore where their storylines might intersect.

I am pulling these numbers out of my hat for convenience sake, but here are some approximate ages for the characters: at the start of the manga, let’s say Coco, Tetia and Agott are all 12, Riche is 11, and Qifrey and Olruggio are 28.

20-23 years ago: Olruggio leaves his birth town Godley and moves to the Great Hall, maybe as young as 5 years old.

While many witches are born in the Great Hall, Olruggio comes from a town called Godley in the North. Yet he doesn’t remember Utowin, who came from the same place. We know that young witches usually start their training between the age of 7 and 10, but since witch society is awfully elitist, Olruggio would have been sent there as soon as his talent for magic became apparent.

Being ripped from his home at an extremely young age could explain his fear of being unwanted and left behind: he overworks himself as a way to feel useful and validated, is defensive about his own feelings, and he gets agitated and sometimes aggressive whenever Qifrey hides things from him.

20 years ago: arrival of Qifrey at the Great Hall at age 8. Olruggio befriends him soon afterwards. The both of them start sneaking out at night to chase Brimhats.

8 year old Qifrey was one fierce little thing, you have to give him that. His abuse at the hands of the Brimhats was brutal enough to break a grown man, but he picks himself up and goes right after them like “Alright jerks, you’ve got some explaining to do and I want my eyeball back!”.

Also it cracks me up that Olruggio was carrying this massive book in their flashback. Gotta love that his reaction to Qifrey’s “Let’s go chase some terrorists!” was “Sure, let me just pack my homework =>”.

Finally, there might be a slightly more selfish motivation for Olruggio’s fast friendship and devotion to Qifrey. Olruggio’s self-esteem lies in his ability to help people, so he would naturally be drawn to someone helpless. It’s unclear how much of Qifrey’s memory was missing: apparently he didn’t know about birthdays. How many other basic concepts was he missing? Did he know how to read? Between that, his lack of knowledge about magic and his injury, he was probably completely dependent on Olruggio at the beginning. Given Olruggio’s wish that they go back to “the good old times” when they were always together, I am wondering whether some hidden part of him misses being essential to someone. It’s well-intentioned, but not entirely healthy, especially if he is using Qifrey as a coping mechanism for his own insecurities.

14 years ago: Olruggio and Qifrey make a pledge of (betrothal) friendship, exchange tassels and attempt the Librarian test at age 14. It is their last adventure together, but Qifrey will continue his investigations on his own, to Olruggio’s disappointment and betrayal. Qifrey starts wearing his half-tinted glasses.

In the pledge flashback, they are wearing their old tassels, but they have swapped them by the time they undertake the third test. Also, when he remembers that pledge, Olruggio says that Qifrey’s investigation “should have ended at the Tower of Books”. The tower is the last likely place where Qifrey could have found answers about his past and a non-forbidden way of getting his eye back. Olruggio probably made him promise that he would stop his search afterwards.

Beldaruit says that he thought Qifrey had given up on his search after the third test, but Olruggio tells a slightly different story. Apparently he thought Qifrey “finally stopped causing trouble” after taking in apprentices, which means he was still behaving suspiciously right up until he became a teacher. Alaira also comments on Qifrey’s interest in the Brimhats in the first volume, so clearly his investigations were common knowledge among his friends, even as an adult.

Olruggio’s anger whenever the Brimhats are mentioned would then be caused not just by his own fear of forbidden magic, but by the reminder that Qifrey broke his promise to him, and refused to leave his past behind. Naturally, Olruggio doesn’t know about Qifrey’s change in circumstances: he is no longer looking to retrieve what he lost, but trying to stop an impending threat.

Qifrey’s discoveries in the Tower of Books also seem to have renewed his disgust towards his own scar: he starts wearing glasses shortly afterwards, even though his eyesight hasn’t yet started deteriorating.

14-5 years ago: in that interval, Coco’s father dies of illness. Olruggio becomes more and more famous for his magical items, and is given the title “Shining Torch” / “Master of Lights”. His glowstone paths become widely popular, and are installed around the castle near Coco’s mom. Both Qifrey and Olruggio pass the fourth test and complete their training.

At this stage, I really doubt that Qifrey intended to become a teacher. Whatever information he found at the Tower of Books convinced him he had to stop the Brimhats’ plan. He was probably planning to complete his training and then go straight on to his quest, not really expecting to return alive.

There are also hints that this was a strained period for Qifrey and Olruggio: Olruggio mentions that he would like them to confide in each other “just like old times”, which implies that they grew more distant after the Librarian test. I’m suspecting that Qifrey was trying to slowly remove himself from Olruggio’s life, hoping Olruggio would be so famous and beloved by the time they graduated that he would forget about Qifrey and barely notice his disappearance. Qifrey’s self-esteem isn’t the best y’all.

5 years ago: Coco receives the magic picture book from Iguin at age 7 at the Silver Night Festival. The Brimhats stop showing signs of activity. Qifrey takes on his first apprentice (probably Tetia, age 7). He interrupts his investigation of the Brimhats and creates the atelier. Olruggio becomes his Watchful Eye.

We don’t know exactly how old Coco was when she got her book, but her tiny chubby face makes me think she was 6-7. Alaira also tells us in the first volume that the incident with Coco’s mother is the first sign of Brimhat activity in five years. I am thinking that after Iguin gave away the book, he instructed the other Brimhats to keep a low profile until his scheme could hatch.

I also wonder whether Coco getting her book might coincide with Qifrey becoming a teacher and creating his atelier. Given that Qifrey is probably tied to Iguin’s schemes, how coincidental is it that Qifrey wandered into Coco’s village and set her fate in motion? Perhaps Iguin contrived for them to live in the same area so that they would meet eventually. Either he somehow influenced Qifrey’s choice of location for his atelier, or he selected Coco as his “child of hope” because of her relative proximity as well as her love for magic.

7 years old is when we could expect Tetia to have passed the first test. For now we know little about her backstory, but we can guess a few things: she is enthusiastic and ambitious, but gets easily side-tracked by pet projects and struggles to stick to the curriculum. She craves positive feedback and is worried her spells and interests will be condemned as frivolous. It makes me think that she passed her first test early, but was then mistreated by her first teachers for being too childish.

We’ve seen that Qifrey has a compulsive tendency to adopt children in distress. It would fit his character if he became a teacher on impulse. Maybe he had to pass the fifth test in a rush to be allowed to keep Tetia by his side. This also brought Olruggio back into his life, as he was the only one willing to follow him away from the atelier as Watchful Eye.

The complicity between Tetia and Qifrey, and Tetia taking on the role of a big sister for both Riche and Coco, also make me think she was Qifrey’s first apprentice. Tetia is often shown teasing Qifrey, quoting both Qifrey and Olruggio, and imitating Qifrey’s teaching style: I can totally see them as a little family of three at some point in the past.

4 years ago: Riche starts training under her brother’s master, a creepy asshole, at age 7.

We actually have a clear timestamp for that one in chapter 25, woohoo! Riche’s old teacher can eat a brick.

3-2 years ago: Qifrey and Olruggio learn about Riche’s mistreatment in her old atelier and promptly adopt her. Beldaruit takes on Ririfin as an apprentice. Qifrey’s eyesight starts deteriorating. He adds the light protection glyph to his glasses.

Before that time, Qifrey might have intended to put his quest on hold until after Tetia’s graduation, but now his impending blindness puts him on a time limit. He can’t do a lot about it however, since the Brimhats have been keeping a low profile for years and are not leaving him any clue.

It’s unclear how long Riche stayed at her old atelier, and whether she joined Qifrey before or after Agott. I’m hoping she made it out as soon as possible.

2 years ago: Agott passes the first test at age 10. She gets accused of stealing someone else’s spell, is rejected from her prestigious family’s apprenticeship, and joins Qifrey’s atelier.

Agott has been treated harshly by her family for not being enough of a genius. She mentions passing the first test at 10, the upper end of the normal age range. She was probably given a hard time for starting her apprenticeship so “late”, which explains why she is now adamant about passing the other tests as quickly as possible.

I wonder whether she felt ambivalent about joining Qifrey’s atelier at first. On the one hand, Qifrey was taught by the Sage of Education himself and is clearly very powerful. On the other hand, he has only a couple students and lives in a weird little school in the middle of nowhere, a big fall from grace compared to her prestigious upbringing. I wonder whether Qifrey went to find her after he heard she was the object of nasty rumours (he knows a thing or two about those), and Agott didn’t feel like she had other options.

0 year ago: Coco and Qifrey meet. Iguin goes “F***ing finally, I thought I’d have to watch that humdrum one-eyed twink bake potatoes for another five years. It’s dragon-slaying time now baby!!!”

#witch hat atelier #witch hat meta #qifrey #olruggio #tbna #coco #riche #agott #everyone has a horrible time at the Great Hall: a wha timeline #Olruggio the wonder child arriving at the Great Hall at age 5 wrapped in an anxiety blanket and clinging to a plush toy #protect him #no mention of treefrey this time what are the odds

271 notes · View notes

kordeliiius · 3 years ago

Photo

Starting a series of Crewmates AU character profiles!! Under the cut you’ll find basic info, story details, design notes, and various headcanons for each character pictured in a post

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

(I should note that heights may not be exact; scaling in this world is weird because even though the Transmission stretched the kids past their would-be natural heights, they still look small against all the oversized architecture and furnishings…. So through a combination of researching average heights by region and game images and also general feeling I’ve reached some okay approximations)

((also!! feel free to send me asks about my AU, depending on how much energy I have I can talk for hours))

Six Age: 19 Gender: Agender (they/she) Ethnicity: Japanese Height: 5’8

Story Info: A mysterious stowaway responsible for (unintentionally) overthrowing the Lady of the Maw. Now with nowhere else to go, Six has no choice but to commune with the Maw’s prisoners and work together to create a new way of life on the ship. She is admired by the other children for “freeing” them, but also feared for her new powers and cold exterior persona. After years of slowly opening up their boundaries, Six forms a close familial bond with her companions and is informally referred to as “captain.”

Roles: Captain, shadow mage, energy analyst, relations

Magic: Shadow magic – Inherited from the now deceased Lady; The ability to harness life energy, even the soul itself, and transfer it from one vessel to another. Six can use it to steal energy to sustain herself, but also bring people back from the edge of death.

Wardrobe: Six’s typical style is very youthful and they hold little regard for gender association. Clings to yellow as part of her unwavering persona, but isn’t a stranger to shades of orange. Sometimes dons the Ladies’ signature kimono and a custom mask for business, but ultimately prefers the hakama.

Runaway Age: 21 Gender: Nonbinary Man (trans; he/they) Ethnicity: Malaysian Height: 5’11

Story Info: The resident sarcastic middle child of the prison, who acts notoriously independent but struggles to resist turning a blind eye to someone in need. Obtained the referral of “the runaway kid” from attempting more prison escapes than anyone, and is more athletic than he looks. His latest attempt landed him with a stronger sense of empathy after spending time in the nomes’ hideaway, but also a rude encounter with The Lady, who tore his soul from his body as punishment for trespassing. His attitude towards Six wavers between animosity and respect, since she nearly destroyed his body before ultimately saving his life, and is constantly reminded of this fact by the scars on his face and neck.

Roles: Groundskeeper, defender, archivist, primary translator, what can only be described as nome herder

Magic: Shapeshifting – An newer form of shadow magic performed on oneself. Can shift between human, nome, or a number of forms in between by displacing his shadow (soul) from his body.

Wardrobe: Mainly wears basic loose clothing (often sleepwear) that accommodates transformations, but also has some semiformal pieces such as fitted vests. Signature sky blue remains front and center when possible.

Flicker Age: 23 Gender: Woman (she/her) Ethnicity: Indonesian Height: 6’6

Story info: One of the oldest prison children, who’s practically assumed the role of big sister to all. A kind and caring soul somewhat hardened by her first and only escape attempt, in which she embarked unprepared with nothing but a flashlight, and barely escaped the creatures in the Depths. Cares for Runaway deeply as if they were her own family, to the point where she’s partially responsible for saving their life. She also holds Six in high regard, being able to sympathize with how they’ve suffered and acting as a major source of comfort.

Roles: Medic, primary translator, moral compass

Magic: Blood magic – Acquired from a near-death encounter with a pack of leeches; Flicker possesses fast-acting blood that allows her to quickly self-regenerate, or heal others by transfusing it. She lets her own blood from an old bite mark on her left arm, and it can be easily manipulated in a telekinetic sense if it’s in close range to its source. It also runs purple and glows depending on the light it’s exposed to.

Wardrobe: Primarily androgynous style in contrasting monochrome, and some bits of purple maroon. Likes mismatched but balanced patterns.

#little nightmares #secrets of the maw #ln au #crewmates au #ln six #ln runaway #ln flicker #character profiles #character design #worldbuilding #keiArt

155 notes · View notes

missymurphy1985 · 3 years ago

Text

The Extra (part 9)

Warning - illness, mentions of death

Authors Note - I have personal experience of this horrific disease - I hope I don't upset anyone with it, but it's a topic very close to my heart.

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton

A month had passed since you'd deleted his number and blocked him. You were staring at the letter in your hand, shaking. You knew this day was coming, but you'd pushed it so far down that you had only truly thought about it when Cillian had told you he loved you.

You'd told Liane the truth. Why you couldn't commit to him, even though you desperately wanted to. Truth be told you'd fallen for him just as hard - and that's exactly why you'd pushed him away. It was bad enough you had to live with this, you couldn't force someone else to. She'd encouraged you to get tested - and you knew she was right. It was time you took your life in your hands once and for all. You'd spent too many years since your mother's and sister's untimely deaths burying it.

Picking up the phone, you dialled the number, heart pounding. The receptionist answered.

"Morning. My name is y/n y/l/n. I had some tests. I've had a letter to say the results are in?"

"Can I ask what the test was for?" The receptionist asked.

"My GP referred me. It's for the breast cancer gene. I'd like to know if I carry it."

"Let me check our records Miss Y/L/N. Yes, I have your results here. Would you be available to come in this afternoon? We've had a cancellation?"

"Can you not tell me over the phone?"

"I'm not allowed to, the doctor has requested to see you in person." Your heart lurched, that was never a good sign.

You immediately wanted to call Cillian, but remembered you didn't have his contact details any more. You called Liane instead. She would pick you up at 2pm and go with you to the appointment.

Sat in the waiting room, Liane held you hand to calm you. Your nerves were in tatters. This disease had already taken so much from you - your mum, your older sister, two cousins... You knew there was a strong chance it was going to take you, too. The doctor called you through.

"Your results are here y/n. And I'm pleased to inform you -"

"What?" You gasped. The doctor smiled and took your hands in hers.

"Y/n, you don't carry the gene. It isn't there - your chances of developing breast cancer are no higher than mine, or Joan Bloggs on the street. You're going to be okay." Even the doctor had tears in her eyes. Liane was gobsmacked. You just burst into tears.

"I'm not going to die?"

"Oh honey if I had the cure for that I'd be a millionaire!" She laughed, you did too. You felt like the world had just been lifted off your shoulders, taking a dark cloud with it. A dark cloud you'd been living with for nearly 10 years. The real reason you'd split with your ex. The reason you refused to get your breasts out for auditions. The real reason you backed away from a life in acting. You didn't see the point if you weren't going to be here for the long haul... But now?

Now you'd been given a new life. A new start. And your thrown away the best chance of happiness you'd ever had in one stupid click of a button.

Liane noticed your sadness in the car on the way home. You suddenly realised you weren't actually heading home though, you were on the M6 heading to Wolverhampton.

"Erm.. where are we going?" You asked, seeing the sign for Wolverhampton fly past.

"Road trip."

"Destination?"

"It's a surprise!! Do you trust me?"

"Always..."

"Then don't ask questions."

You rolled your eyes and figured you were probably en route to Bicester Village in Oxford. That was your happy place - a day of shopping, good food, few drinks in the evening... Before long though, your eyelids grew heavy. You always fell asleep on car journeys, this one was no different. Within ten minutes you were out cold.

You felt Liane nudge you gently, waking you. Opening your eyes, you looked around, expecting to see the car park. Instead you saw terraced houses, a green park, and a street sign with 'London Borough - Kilburn' on it.

"Why am I in London??" You asked. Liane shrugged her shoulders.

"Fancied a change - never been before! Just got on the motorway and drove. Been years since we've done that hasn't it! Just drove with no destination?" You grinned, remembering the random road trips you used to take years ago. You'd ended up all over the UK, even catching a ferry to Amsterdam one Friday night just because you were bored!

"So what's the plan?"

"Let's go explore!" She paid for the parking via an app on her phone and you both climbed out the car. The houses were all Victorian style and beautiful. The park was glorious - the sun shining on it beautifully. Liane suggested a picnic in the park first to line your stomachs, then cocktails.

"Aren't you driving us home later?"

"Yes - I'll be on the mocktails! Come on, let's go find food... There's loads of little deli places over there!"

Picnic done, it was cocktail time. Sadly, there didn't appear to be a cocktail bar anywhere near... But there was a nice looking pub over the road. Settling on a normal G&T, you both made your way over. Liane sent you inside to get the drinks while she sat in the beer garden out the back.

Heading outside with two G&Ts, you looked around for her but she was nowhere to be found. You quickly scanned inside again just to make sure you'd not missed her. Setting the drinks down on a bench outside, you waited. Must've gone to the toilet. Taking your phone out you sent her a text letting her know where you were.

Ten minutes passed - still no sign. You were worried now. A ping on your phone.

"For god's sake woman open your eyes and look in the corner!!" Liane... What the hell? You looked up and nearly dropped your phone. Sitting ten feet away from you, on his own... Holding his phone in his hand and staring at you the same way you were staring at him. In complete disbelief.

He looked back at his phone and shook his head. Both of you realising you'd been set up. Completely played.

He stood up, you were convinced he was going to leave but he didn't. He sat opposite you instead.

"Hey," he smiled.

"Hey..."

"Can I talk before you do?" He asked. You nodded.

"I know... I didn't... Fuck this makes so much more sense in my head..." He laughed.

"Can I talk instead?" He nodded. You took a deep breath and told him the truth. About your family. The deaths. The illness. The tests.. and the results.

"That's why I pushed you away. That's why I push everyone away. But you were the first one I pushed that I regretted... I regretted it so much because no one had ever made me feel as alive as you did. No one made me float on air like you did. No one made me forget about this cloud hanging over me like you did..."

"You thought I'd leave you if you had the gene?"

"My Dad left when my mom was diagnosed. He couldn't handle it so he bailed. Wasn't a great role model."

"Your dad's a dick. I'm not." His brutal, dead pan response made you laugh. In fact you didn't just laugh, you were in hysterics. He laughed with you, and took your hands in his.

"If I promise not to tell you I love you, will you let me see you?"

"No."

"Erm... Okay?"

"I want you to tell me you love me, if you mean it. Then I'll decide."

"Y/N... I. Love. You. I fucking love you. I adore you. I've had the most miserable four weeks of my life thanks to you!" He laughed.

"Yeah I'm sorry about that.."

"It's okay. You can make it up to me."

"You're giving me a second chance?"

"I never gave up on the first one. But this time, we take it slow. Get to know each other. I'll start by asking if I can take you out to dinner tonight?"

"I have nothing with me... All my stuff's at home..."

"Fair enough. Then we have two choices. You go shopping with Liane and get yourself something.. or go home and we can arrange to meet another time?"

"I'm already here, and shopping was on our to do list. Dinner tonight sounds lovely."

"Unblock my number. I'll text you the details later, okay?" He finished his drink and pulled his jacket on, quickly typing a text as you unblocked his number. If only you'd known it was that easy to get his contact details again... The message pinged through.

"Thank you..." You smiled reading it. He leaned over and kissed your cheek softly, before walking away. Glancing back, smiling, as he left the pub.

Liane was with you in seconds.

"You sneaky little shit, how did you do this??" You laughed.

"Anto contacted me last week, said he was sick of Cillian moping. We kinda worked together... Are you mad at me?"

"Not at all. Where's Anto?"

"Right here." Anto appeared out of nowhere and you threw your arms around him.

"Thank you. For everything?"

"No need to thank me. This was Liane's idea. Bit of a rush to sort once you'd got those results but luckily you live 3 hours away and you sleep like the dead!" He laughed. "Now get yourself gone - you have a date to prepare for!"

#cillian murphy #cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian fanfic #cillian x smut #cillian murphy x smut

77 notes · View notes

curiousb · 3 years ago

Text

The Fairfax-Morland Family Album: Volume II

Catherine Morland: clairvoyant by day, wannabe mystery novelist by night.

But Catherine’s literary ambitions are rudely interrupted by a baby bump - she and wife Jane Fairfax are about to become mothers, thanks to the wonders of modern Sim science!

What could be sweeter than being greeted by a love letter from your wife when you arrive home from a long day at work?

It’s a boy! Hello, James Morland. (I love how his babygro matches the wallpaper.)

Given their teeny, tiny bungalow, the original plan was to stop at one...

...but they decide that little James should have a sibling, and it’s Jane’s turn this time.

Everything then happens at once! James grows up with a very interesting sense of personal style, while Jane is a little preoccupied with giving birth to baby number two.

A girl this time - welcome, Hester Fairfax!

Look at that beatific smile!

James’s toddler stats:

~ Scorpio 6 / 3 / 7 / 6 / 7

~ Athletic / Brave

Hester isn’t far behind - love her hair (well done, game)!

~ Pisces 7 / 7 / 9 / 6 / 8

~ Daredevil / Kind

Aww!

Unfortunately, their age is against them, and it doesn’t look like a third child is on the cards for the couple.

The Matchmaker strikes again!

After their recent disappointment, Catherine knows exactly what to wish for - peace of mind (although now I wish she hadn’t, as it’s nowhere near as much fun having a Permaplat Sim!).

Story time with the little ones.

James is still a cutie!

~ Scorpio 6 / 3 / 7 / 6 / 7

~ Athletic / Brave / Loner

~ OTH: Tinkering

~ Favourite Colour(s): Blue

He might not be the most outgoing Sim, but he knows a shrewd business opportunity when he sees one, and swiftly puts his birthday gift to good use.

Hester is of course right behind him again!

~ Pisces 7 / 7 / 9 / 6 / 8

~ Daredevil / Kind / Dog Person

~ OTH: Sport

~ Favourite Colour(s): Turquoise (good choice, Hester, it’s my favourite too!)

Even though she’s not much younger than her brother, Hester really looks up to him, and would love nothing more than for them to be friends.

Sadly, her efforts to impress him fall flat. Literally.

Poor Hester! Perhaps they’ll find some common ground as they get older?

#sims 2 #gameplay #merybury #fairfax-morland family #jane fairfax #catherine morland #james morland #hester fairfax

19 notes · View notes

xxtoothachexx · 3 years ago

Note

Hi! Hope you’re doing well can I request for breaking up with Daki but they get back together drabble? I just want some angst with a happy ending with Daki right now. Thank you so much!

a/n: thank you anon, I’m doing well!! had a tiring day but I had enough time to get this done, thank you for the request and I hope you like it <3

although daki is shown to be more whiny and throws tantrums I feel like if she’s really really upset she goes cold, so this drabble is dedicated to that

the title is also from the song “how do I tell a girl I want to kiss her” from modern baseball!

Just another face

(Daki x reader)

Is she bored of me?

It was normal for Daki to not pay much attention to you for some weeks. She had things to do already and it was hard enough for her to spend time with you when she can’t even step out beneath the sun. It was alright, your relationship was complicated and you couldn’t really be upset over her lack of time spent with you.

In all honesty it wouldn’t be shocking. You were just a mere human, destined to grow old and pass. You had no special skills, not even the breathing styles the human demon slayer corps used. There were almost no special qualities to you that would catch the upper moon’s eye.

Of course she was bored with you. Your own “special” duty was to await her in the infinity castle until the sun rose and she returned. At most you would snag random jewelry you would come across when you went out during the day, but you’d only be met with Daki shaming you for putting yourself in a potentially dangerous situation

“I can’t go out in the sun!” She had snapped at you the day you almost got caught. “If you get hurt or in trouble I can’t do anything.” She scowled at you as you apologized then angrily stomped out of the room.

You didn’t want to burden her. She spent her precious time that she could’ve spent catching humans on gathering necessities for you instead. You felt like a bothersome pet that she had no other choice to care for than face the guilt of it dying

You weren’t sure if the air was colder than normal or the anxiety of what you were going to do caused goosebumps to ripple up your arms. Daki was dressed in her kimono masking herself as an orian for the night. Her slitted eyes flicked your way as you stepped through the doorway but she made no motion to greet you

Does she know? You worried yourself with possibilities but her hard stare drove you to spill your guts on what you’d been planning to say. “We should break up.” You blurted out and then immediately slapped a hand over your mouth.

“We should what-?” She asked and rose to her feet. As intimidating as she looked, you clung onto the reassurance that she would never hurt you.

“We should break up, I don’t want to keep being a bother to you Daki. It… It just isn’t working out. I’m really sorry but- but I just can’t.” You stared down at your feet, terrified to see how Daki would react but she stayed uncharacteristically quiet.

“Fine.” She muttered, walking past you without another single acknowledgement. You felt colder than before.

——————————

You’d returned to your old house that surprisingly had been left alone and continued to live there on your own. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit you were lonely. There were times where you caught yourself slipping up when you went to call out to someone who was no longer there.

Night had fallen and you padded back to bed. It was still cold and the sheets were nowhere near as luxurious as the ones that Daki had gifted you for your very own comfort. It would have to do, you just needed rest.

A slam against your door and the sound of claws sinking into wood dragged you from your sleepy state. Your heart was already lurching in your chest and you stumbled back onto your feet.

Uncertainty coursed through your veins as the bangs got louder and what would most likely be your death tried to force its way in. You had no skills, how in the hell would you defend yourself when it gets in

You hadn’t even noticed you started crying until tears started blurring your vision, making it harder to find the axe you had left somewhere in the house. You were going to die, the thought made your whole body run cold like ice.

Frozen in place, silence suddenly fell. Had it given up? Or had it gotten in, now lurking in the shadows to pounce? You forced your stiff legs to move and rushed towards the door ripped off its hinges

Instead of a blood thirsty demon standing at the door, there were instead pieces of it. It was torn to shreds by some blade or…… obi.

Daki stood there, white hair glowing in the moonlight. Her eyes were still steely and boring into your soul but she grasped the demon's head in her hand then tossed it to the side, ignoring its howls of anger and accusations of betrayal. “Just because we aren’t dating doesn’t mean I want you to die.” She whispered and raised a hand up to cup your face.

You nuzzled into her touch. “How long have you been watching over my house?” You asked curiously.

“Since you left. I didn’t want any of those other disgusting demons to get their claws on you.” She sighed and turned to walk off but you stepped out to catch me.

“Do you still love me?”

Without even looking back she nodded. “I wasn’t the one who broke up with you. If you felt you were better off without me then so be it.”

You scrambled to find words as you tried to fight off the warmth that filed your chest over her words. “Daki, w-wait. I still love you, I thought you were bored of me. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to stay by my side till I died, forcing yourself to look after me. I’m sorry, I should’ve talked to you.”

She raised a brow at you then her face fell into a prideful smirk. “If I wanted to just take care of something without any return I would’ve gotten a mutt. It gets lonely being a demon, it makes me happy when you greet me every morning and pull me into cuddles. I don’t just keep you around for nothing.”

Oh. “I’m sorry, w-would you still be willing to take me back?” You asked.

“I should make you my temporary mutt for a few weeks for playing with my heart like that, but I will take you back.” She smiled at you. “Stop being stupid though y/n.”

#demon slayer #demon slayer headcanons #kimestu no yaiba #kny daki #daki x reader #demon slayer imagines

85 notes · View notes

slashingdisneypasta · 2 years ago

Note

(May I join T or D game? 🦊)

1) I'll eat the whole thing in one bite and risk a brainfreeze! Then I'll look him straight in the eyes as I snap the stick in half! Hopefully he'll get the message...

2) If I brought a boy home then he must be a very good friend! I wouldn't bring just anyone home! I'll find someone else for Jenn (seems like a good way to get rid of some creep/douche/sleezebag lol)

3) Bubba better sit his ass down and go nowhere near that thing! I'll handle the feeding!

4) Are noise conceling headphones an opinion?! Or playing music on speakers so loud I don't hear my own thoughts?! If not, I'll shut him up myself! He'll feel the rage of an s*x-repulsed asexual who didn't get a good night sleep in weeks! I will put a fear of God into him (even if he's not religious)! *Angry tired ace noises*

5) I'm pretty small and skinny so I could probably slip between Jason and Michael with them barely noticing me! Or I'm sure Jason would be polite enough to step aside for a second if I ask nicely, his mother did raised him right after all! There's no point in asking Michael, he'll either just continue to stare or even attempt to stab me, so no thank you!

6) Call me crazy but BJ! I'm not familiar enough with Drayton. Besides, my special talent is being able to ignore someone completaly no matter what they do! He'll be wondering if he's invisible again 😈

7) *runs into the kitchen at lighting speed, grabs the snacks and runs out*

8) I'll do my best to try calm Carrie down! I'm pretty sure she's more scared then I am! Such powers can be overwhelming and it's not her fault if she still sometimes can't control them! (If I fail, I'd like INK and Aurelio Voltaire to play at my funeral)

9) (I picked the Slasher before I saw the list) So now Jason is fighting Pennywise! Damn!! I wonder how that would end?!

10) There's absolutely NO WAY I'm getting any help from Freddy! I'll admit what I did to Pam! It was a honest mistake and hopefully she'll understand. Ofc I'll clean all the mess and pay to fix/replace if anything is broken

11) I'll choose truth! I'm super honest (sometimes too much) and don't mind any question they throw at me!

12) I like Jerry's style more, so I'll pick him! He better not mess it up though, or Elijah will be hearing about it!

13) The Clown does not scare me at all! I think the idea is hillarious and choose opinion B *evil laughter* I have camera ready 🎥 ʘ⁠‿⁠ʘ

You can always join, Fox Anon!! Hey! ^^

Omggggggg, I love your answers so so much XDD

Omg, I think he's got it!!! XDDD

You make a VERY good point... And they're going to a better place anyway XDD Jen's stomach.

You're so brave!! But yes lets protect the Bubba XD

Get him, Fox anon!! I've got your back. From way back here, far far away from Patrick... I've got your back... but I've got it!!

Y'all have so much faith in the manners of a man who's forte is just flingin' people out of his damn way

6. Oh!! You took that class too?? XD Haha. Omg XD I love the little devil emoji you put at the end, too, so funny XDD

7. XDDDDDDDD Zoom

8. I've got you.

9. Oooh, I dunno- but I hope Jason wins!

10. Good news! That was a test- and you passed. Pamela likes you and you may befriend Jason XD ^^

11. Hey, at least people know where they stand with you! I love honest people!

Hmmmmm, here's your truth from Billy and Stu: If you had the choice to leave this universe and jump into the A Nightmare On Elm Street universe... and you got to be a dream demon with all that power, as well... but you had to spend your eternity with Freddy- would you go?

12. Oooh, do you mean the original version?? He does have good style. The red scarf?? Perfect accessorization XD Which Chucky then copied.

OOF, Jerry better do his best then!

13. Ohhhhhhhhhhh this one made me cackle XDD Freddy's is going to DIE, man!!

Thank you for playing and sharing your answers!! They're great!! XD

5 notes · View notes

codenamed-queenie · 5 years ago

Text

Nap Time

Hear me out.

When you work the graveyard shift busting baddies and crushing cases, you likely average about two, maybe three hours of sleep a night. At most. There’s only so much time in the day, right? And Timothy Jackson Drake is not the only member of his family who’s dangerously sleep-deprived.

So, upon Alfred’s insistence (and many isolated incidents involving brick walls, hot coffee, shaving cream, and a lack of pants)--

A bargain was struck. Deals were made. Schedules were rearranged. Employers and Teachers were generously bribed.

All for one minor, but critically crucial thing:

Family Nap Time

It was actually Duke who had the idea, to everyone’s surprise. He stepped into the manor one day and witnessed a state of chaos on a scale only achievable by a family of the World’s Greatest Detectives:

Dick had climbed on top of the fridge and curled into a fetal position, clutching a cup of coffee like his very life depended on it.

His eyes were unfocused, staring into the eyes of demons nobody else could see.

Jason was screaming at the toaster in Portuguese and hitting it repeatedly with a whisk. Said toaster was on fire.

Steph was dutifully trying to put out the fire with the extinguisher Alfred always kept within reaching distance of the oven (for obvious reasons).

The only problem? She was nowhere near the toaster.

Instead, she was spraying the potted Ficus on the opposite end of the kitchen, screaming ‘aaaaayyyyyyyyyy’ in complete monotone.

Harper, who’d ‘spent the night’ to catch a quick hour and a half of sleep, was perched, bird-like, on the bar stool at the counter squeezing mustard into her Frosted Flakes. She stared, unblinking, at the bowl.

Whether she thought it was milk, or whether she was perfectly aware of what was in her hand and just didn’t care what she was doing is unclear.

Damian was hugging a struggling Alfred the cat like a teddy bear, and standing with his face in the corner of the room. Unmoving. Just...standing there.

Tim was wearing swim trunks (they were actually Dick’s, and had little yellow rubber duckies on them) and sitting in the kitchen sink. Said sink was running. Tim’s head was tipped back. He stared at the ceiling while water continued to overflow onto the floor.

Cass was nowhere to be seen. At least, at first.

Bruce walked in, wearing nothing but a pair of his best underwear and Selina’s fluffiest bathrobe. He was holding a carton of orange juice. He nodded at Duke, and, as the most lucid of the bunch, said,

“Morning, son. Breakfast?”

He stepped over to the fridge, and Cass was clinging koala-style to his back.

Whether Bruce was aware of this fact was also unclear.

Duke was fine. He operated during the daylight hours, and therefore had the best REM cycle in the family. But still...he had Concerns.

So, collaborating with Alfred (a.k.a. the Only One Anyone Actually Listens To) they came up with Family Nap Time.

The rules are simple:

At exactly 6am EST report to Wayne Manor

Family Nap Time shall take place at least three (3) times per week

Refer to the Family Group Messages for more info

Bring:

Your fluffiest blanket

If you do not have a fluffiest blanket, one will be provided for you

One or more pillow(s)

Body Pillows are Highly Encouraged

(But if necessary, a younger sibling will serve the same purpose)

Fuzzy or Comfy Pajamas (and Socks)

Not required

(But you must be wearing CLOTHES, MASTER JASON)

A raffle shall be had each week to determine who gets to pick the white noise played in the background.

Those who would like to opt out of background noise will be supplied with foam earplugs.

No, Master Timothy, the Bee Movie Script is not adequate white noise.

Master Jason, please take this seriously. Sirens, car horns, and explosions are not conducive to a positive sleep environment. I don’t care if that is what helps you sleep at night, why can’t you be more like Miss Cassandra and select wind chimes or ocean waves?

Everyone shall gather in the living room.

You are free to sleep anywhere you would like

Couches, the rug, by the hearth, all are excellent choices.

No, Master Timothy, you may not sleep in the chimney

Master Dick, the coffee table is an...interesting choice, but--

Miss Brown, please keep your hands to yourself

Especially within view of young Master Damian.

No cellular devices allowed

This means all of you

Yes, ALL of you

Even you Master Bruce, don’t give me that look

The Lights will be dimmed, and the curtains drawn.

This signals that it is time to Sleep

Glowsticks are banned, Miss Brown, I’m sorry.

Everyone must sleep for at least 3 hours, but you are free to stay as long as you would like.

Within reason

We made an exception one time, Master Timothy

But you cannot continue to spend the week on the sofa, no matter how little sleep you’ve gotten this past month.

There’s actual work that needs to be done

Failure to attend shall result in Mandatory Leave from all patrols and other related Vigilante Activity, to allow for the opportunity to sleep on your own time.

Either way, Sleep is a NECESSITY not a SUGGESTION

Needless to say, there’s some bumps in the road, and a few debates to be settled and rules to be tweaked. But all in all? Family Nap Time is a huge hit.

The rest of the heroes in the Super Community are well aware of this practice, as well.

Tim was teased about it at a Titans’ briefing only once. (The other Titans are still attending group therapy.)

Roy negged Jason about it a few times, then stopped once he started to notice how the dark bags under his friend’s eyes started to slowly disappear.

The Birds of Prey pick up the slack while Babs heads over to Wayne Manor to join the siesta festivities (Siestivities?) She always helps Alfred make chamomile tea for the others.

And lastly,

Barry Allen, the poor fool, burst into Wayne Manor one day and shouted something about an emergency in space that the League needed Bruce for, asap!

Twelve heads perked up out of a nest made of pillows, sheets and blankets set up in the living room, glaring daggers

It was at that moment, Barry knew

He. F****d. Up.

All he remembers is the unholy sound of shrieking, fingernails, fists, and being stuffed somewhere dark (the broom closet)

Anything past that? Gonzo.

Wally had to pick him up after Alfred gave the all-clear.

It’s become a sacred, but unspoken, rule for any hero outside of Gotham:

Let the Bats Sleep...or else

3K notes · View notes