#also tried to make everyone look relatively the same age

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 17: "I hate it" "No, you don't"

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

It was late when you received the call from your boyfriend. It wasn’t unusual for him to call and ask if he could spend the night at your place after work (when there wasn’t a case that took him to another state), and of course, you gladly accepted, eager to see him for a bit longer. Your relationship was relatively new, just past the six-month mark, but Spencer’s noble and chivalrous character had allowed you to trust him quickly enough to let him into your space.

You had met in a book club, and he had captivated you with his analysis of "Man's Search for Meaning" by Viktor Frankl. His eloquence, the way his hands moved, that whole vibe of an intelligent college student... it was inevitable that you would approach him to talk. That’s how you both started chatting occasionally, and as the months passed, what was meant to happen, happened.

“Good night,” you murmured softly as you saw him standing at your door. “Come in.”

He smiled widely when you took his hand to guide him inside, and he made sure to respond to your greeting. The first thing he did was take his briefcase off his shoulder and place it on one of your wooden chairs, accompanied by his checkered scarf.

“Were you already asleep?”

“No, I’m just finishing some things. You know, my thesis work and all that,” you exclaimed, lacking much enthusiasm.

Not everyone was a genius like him, so if Spencer wanted to hang out with people his age, he had to endure the academic struggles of a college student.

“Poor you.”

You enjoyed his compassion, and it was at that moment that you moved closer to hug him, a contact he reciprocated with great pleasure. You didn’t want to be rude enough to say it out loud, but from the very first moment you formalized your relationship, you realized how starved he was for touch. And not explicitly in a sexual sense, but simply to be caressed in any way. To someone from his usual circle, it would have seemed extremely strange that Dr. Reid, so well known for his aversion to germs, constantly sought out someone’s hand, asking for kisses on the lips or pleading for a warm hug.

When he told you, slightly embarrassed, that you were his first girlfriend, some things started to make sense in your mind. But it was sweet if you thought about it because it meant he was choosing you to teach him many things about love.

To be honest, you were willing to give him whatever he wanted. After all, he was a good-hearted guy who devoted himself to adoring you, a type you don’t find easily. And it had to be said that his intelligence wasn’t the only trait you had noticed, as his physical attributes were also quite (too) appealing.

Once you both felt satisfied with the contact, you separated, and then you looked at him with a smile.

“How was work?”

“Same old,” he expressed as you guided him to one of the dining chairs where you had been working. “Today we did reports and reviewed some cold cases, just in case we could still help in some way.”

“That must be so exhausting. I wouldn’t have the willpower.”

“For what?”

“To endure so many cases. To know how horrible humanity can be and keep going as if nothing’s wrong.”

“Everything leaves its mark, even if it doesn’t seem like it.”

There was a hint of pain hidden behind those words that made you feel compassion for his work. He tried to keep you at a distance from everything that was happening to him, and he still didn’t dare confess many of the things that troubled him at night. He didn’t want to scare you, of course; that’s why he thought it prudent to wait a little longer in the relationship.

After all, if you truly loved him, it would be with all those flaws and traumatic events that his life entailed.

“Well, I admire you for helping capture those despicable people.”

Your sincere tone was pleasant to your boyfriend’s ears, and he thanked you with a smile that spoke volumes.

Suddenly, your gaze drifted to the laptop on the table, and he hurried to murmur:

“Do you want to continue? I don’t mean to disturb your schedule.”

“Doesn’t bother you?”

“Not at all.”

“I have to submit a progress report this week, analyze some data, strengthen the theoretical part…” You sighed, letting yourself drop into the chair, ready to continue with the task. “Have you eaten yet? You can go to the kitchen and prepare whatever you like. The place is yours.”

Spencer took you up on your offer, and while you continued typing away on your laptop, he took the liberty of preparing something light for dinner and serving it on two separate plates.

When he finished, he brought them over to you, placing your plate beside you in silence. You murmured a small thank you, and he ate while seated in one of the adjacent spaces, watching you from time to time simply because he liked you so much.

At some point, he gathered your empty dishes and carried them to the sink, washing them himself. He was so sweet.

“Do you need help with anything? You know I don’t mind,” he offered.

At that, he stood behind you, able to embrace you since you were sitting in a rather unnatural position in your chair, and the wooden backrest wasn’t a hindrance.

“I need a new brain; this one’s dried out.”

Spencer laughed at the exaggeration, knowing that it was impossible, and shortly afterward, he left a kiss on your cheek. A small giggle escaped you as you felt his hands sliding toward your waist, knowing what was coming next.

“Spencer…”

“Yes?” he replied innocently, as if he didn’t know what he was doing.

Doing that had become a constant habit since he discovered that you were extremely ticklish. Literally, every time he placed his hands on you, you would burst into laughter.

“Spencer,” you repeated, more seriously this time.

But in the smile you wore, he saw that your threats didn’t really carry any weight. Carefully, the tips of his fingers began to drum against your waist, your belly, the area of your ribs. Simultaneously, his lips began to leave fleeting kisses on any skin they could reach: your cheeks, neck, jaw, shoulder.

The room filled with laughter from both of you as a sort of game ensued, where he tried his best to tickle you, and you desperately attempted to escape him. His face was buried in your neck, and you had lifted your legs onto the chair in a futile attempt to defend yourself.

It wasn’t until you gasped for air, complaining that you couldn’t breathe, that he finally showed you mercy and stopped. You inhaled heavily, trying to catch your breath, and even though he stopped touching you, he didn't move away.

“I hate it!”

“No, you don’t.”

It was obvious that you didn’t hate it. You both knew it, and it was a silent pact that this kind of playfulness was part of your love language as a couple. Every time Spencer held you in his arms, he felt he was holding the world —his world— because after so much time, he felt he had something to love and to be loved by. You were his treasure.

He kept hugging you from behind, exhaling warm air into the crook of your neck. When you were finally able to calm down, you turned slightly to ask for a kiss on the lips. He gladly obliged.

“You know? I think I’ll leave this for tomorrow. For now, I just want to rest…” you continued, closing your eyes and stealing another kiss. “Take a bath, spend time with you…”

“But you have to work on your research.”

“And how can I do that if you’re here? Everything about you distracts me,” you complained, raising one of your hands to hold his cheek and receiving a kiss as a reward.

“What if we do it together? It’ll be good for both of us; I want to distract my mind.”

“Only a brainiac relaxes with data analysis,” you huffed playfully, and he scattered another kiss before pulling away. “But I accept, with the condition that afterward we only focus on sleeping.”

“Deal.”

You didn’t know how lottery winners felt. But you assumed it was something similar to what you experienced every time you looked at Spencer.

[kingtomura]

Fantasize

Summary: working in a coffee shop sucked, but watching the man of your dreams walk in makes it all a little more worth it. wc: 5.4k content: dabi x female reader, explicit content, AU - no quirks, masturbation, overstimulation, vibrator, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, brief oral(f receiving) , nipple play, hair pulling, dabi has a tongue piercing also crossposted to AO3

It was way too crowded in here. 

The morning rush always had a way of bringing out the worst in people. Everyone was always in a hurry. They have to get to work, they have to get to school and even your coworkers fell into this notion. They have to get the orders out in a timely manner or else you’ll have an old business man three times your age staring down at you with his face twisted up into a scowl. 

You hate this job. 

The man before you stared long and hard as if you could magically make his dumb coffee – double shot espresso, two sugars, no milk– appear out of thin air. If you were in the business of magic tricks you would turn him into an inanimate shoe and go on with your day. But you’re no magician, he is not a shoe and you really hate this job.

“Order up!” A voice behind you rang, as an overzealous coworker bushed by you, hot cup of coffee in hand as she tried to smoothly hand off the drink to the irritated man. 

Whether she noticed the look of irritation on his face or not, she didn't mention it. Only smiling and waving him off so that the next group in line could order. You thanked the stars he was out of your hair, muttering a crude you should smile more under his breath before shrinking out the door. 

Yeah, turning him into a shoe would have been a good move. 

You rolled your eyes, going back to the uneventful duties of taking orders and ringing up customers. The small coffee shop you work for maintains a steady crowd, the rumble of chatter flowing through the store. You can't help but feel yourself go on autopilot. Taking orders but not really retaining faces while the smell of coffee grounds flood your nose, the sounds of the steamer and other machines going off in the background. 

It can all be overwhelming at times. But you needed this job, this was the only job with relatively flexible hours while you finished school. 

“We need a refill on cups!” 

That was your cue to drag your feet away from the register and search for more cups for the never satiated customers. Mind drifting back to your current situation. Today was Wednesday, you had a project due on Friday, and you haven't done a lick of it. Couldn’t be bothered. 

Grabbing the cups, you squeeze by two more employees, one manning the drive through and the other frothing milk for a drink. Everyone was too close to one another. This place should be bigger. You sigh, setting the cups up in a pretty, neat line like your manager coaches you to do, and hear the chime of the door bell. 

You could have sworn the time seemed to slow as the sticky sweet greeting from one of your coworkers fell on deaf ears. Ambient chatter of the room ceased and the shrill noises of the machines died out as you watched a boy with white hair and vibrant tattoos step into the store. You've never seen this face before, blue eyes bored and posture giving signs that he would rather be anywhere but here. 

He was cute, he was indifferent and he was walking right towards you.

Holy shit.

It was in that moment you remembered that you had a job to do. A job you were paid to do, and staring at potential customers could be considered weird. It takes a second, but you regain composure and remember the dry utterance of the man before. Smile more. Right. So you do and you pray it doesn't look as forced as it feels. “Hello, what can I get for you today?” 

Your rehearsed question is met with the same indifference as the man simply stared down at you. 

At this point you began to wonder if there had been something stuck in your teeth that everyone knew about but you, because the staring today was starting to get ridiculous. But just as your world brightened, it came crashing down. Another younger customer came crashing into your store and nearly crashing into the boy before you. 

“Dabi! I told you to wait for me.” The girl whined, blonde hair with two buns in disarray as she caught her breath. Even though she looked like she would heave over she still had a smile on her face. It was pretty, bright, and a little creepy. 

The man in question only shrugged, apathetic tone giving no indication of care. “Not my fault you fell behind.” 

“Whatever! “ she huffed, turning to you with her grin too wide and eyes alight. 

Judging from his indifference of the impact, you take it they know each other. Or worse. You feel your heart drop to the floor, and sweaty palms now grow cold. She wasted no time bouncing up to the counter, order prepped and ready on her tongue. She was cute, in an off putting way, you couldn’t lie. But the way your heart fluttered and broke in the span of a second gave you whiplash. 

“I would like one cookie butter latte with cinnamon and whipped cream!” she looked to Dabi, “do you want anything?” 

“No.”

She turns back to you, “Make that two please!”

If it hadn’t been for the mini argument they had over how to pay (“I’m going to use the company card Tomura gave us! That's what its for.”) you would have wondered just how this duo came to know each other. Coworkers. Of course. You quickly rang up their order and pretended to busy yourself with wiping the counters in hopes of getting a little more information about the man of your dreams. 

Okay, maybe that's a little delusional, but what is delusion if not optimism. 

With your amateur spy skills you have deduced that they are not dating. The girl is actually begging to be introduced to his little brother, so that his little brother could introduce her to his best friend. Wild and bold of her, but you couldn’t judge. And since they are not dating you conclude that it is perfectly fine to marry this man in your head. 

And just like that, their orders are up. You hand them their drinks, looking a little too long at Dabi while they begin to make their way to the door. But not before the girl, Himiko, sends you a knowing look with a smirk that makes your blood run cold. She was observant. 

Your blood only ran colder when she leaned towards Dabi, whispering words to him that made him turn back to you for half a second, eyes locking with yours, before leaving. The bell on the door rang in your ears as your heart dropped to your feet.

You really hated this job.

—------ 

That night was your only solace for peace. You found yourself looking for any and every reason to stay busy, mortification still flowing through your veins. It shouldn’t be such a big deal, it’s not like Dabi could read minds. You would probably never see him again after today so that’s also a plus. 

None of your reasonings calmed you down as you paced, spending most of your time overthinking an irrelevant situation. 

Eventually, you began buzzing around your small apartment, cleaning things that were already spotless and dusting invisible dust bunnies away. At one point you even took it upon yourself to start and finish the project you had been dreading. Anything to take your mind off of today. 

How you let such a small situation take over your mind is beyond you.

But then it clicked. 

You would never see him again (probably), and he’s not a mind reader (hopefully), so you are free to do whatever you want in your own head. This resolution is the only one that quells you. It's freeing. So freeing in fact, that you decide to relax. Fully relax and enjoy the quiet of your apartment.

It was cramped and a little outdated, but it was yours. 

Your bed welcomed you as you crashed into it, worries and problems melting away between the soft sheets.

The night was still, stars glimmering through your window and you couldn't help but let your mind wander to the boy from before. Dabi. What an odd name. He was kind of an odd guy, tattoos all over and piercings shining. Inviting. You slid your hand under your shirt, imagining it belonged to the mystery boy instead. 

How would it feel, if it were him caressing your breasts and tweaking your nipples. What kind of touches would he prefer? You slip your other hand into your panties as you imagine it were dabi’s bigger, rough hands teasing your clit. A gasp escapes you as the sensation warms your body.

You thought of his facial piercings and wondered if there was shining silver on his tongue or if that had been a figment of your imagination. Slick coated your finger and you rubbed lazy circles onto your sensitive nub. 

There was so much about him you wanted to know. Was dabi even his real name? What kind of company did he work for? Certainly nowhere uptight given his bright tattoos and piercings. You wonder what noises he would make as you slip a finger into your entrance. His fingers would probably fill you up, the idea of it making you moan. 

“Fuck this,” you breathe, tired of teasing yourself. You reach over to your nightstand, opening the drawer and pulling out the black bullet vibrator. It was your favorite, one that always got the job done. Wasting no time, you clicked the power button, keeping it on the lowest setting first. Not wanting to cum too quickly.

Your thoughts drifted back to dabi, the sound of his voice playing in your head. It was rough, and indifferent, cold and carefree with a monotone ring. The vibrator buzzed in the silence of the room as you placed it on your clit, the new sensation making your breath hitch. It wouldn’t take much more to push you over.

The vibrator hummed louder as you turned it up a notch, slick coating it. 

You thought of his dark clothes, the way his shirt hugged his chest in all the right ways, the chain-link bracelet on his wrist complemented the rings that donned his fingers. He was stylish and the look suited him well. Your end was nearing and your toes curled as you bit your lip to hold back another moan. 

Being home alone in your own apartment did mean you were shameless. 

Pressing it against yourself harder makes you toss your head to the side, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. It was unbearable how close you were. The vibrations spread throughout your body, setting your nerves on fire. You turn it up one more notch as you writhe in bed. 

Your body felt like you were on a rollercoaster, in the moment right before it drops from its massive height. Anticipation sends your adrenaline spiking as you wait for the inevitable fall. 

The drop was near and in that moment, the flash of dabi’s blue eyes meeting yours, knowing and sharp, sent you crashing over. The roller coaster cart racing down and heart soaring with the wind of the ride blowing past your ears. You can't hold back the cry as your body trembles as you come undone. Thighs quivering with the force of your orgasm. It was euphoric, one of your best in a while and the aftershocks running through you had been proof of that.  

You sigh, reeling from the feeling and put your vibrator away. 

You’ve gotten it out of your system and now your life can go back to being boring and mundane forever. As long as you never have to face him again. The odds of a guy like him coming back to your silly little cafe while you were there were slim to none. The thought brought a lazy smile to your face. 

You were stressed over nothing.

—-----

Someone above was playing tricks on you. Lowdown, dirty tricks and if you didn’t know any better you would think you had been cursed.

Dabi is there, in front of you, bright and early with a younger boy in tow. The latter looking over the menu as you force that fake fucking smile on your face and wait patiently for them to order.

He was staring right at you. You’re pretty sure he’s staring right through you. Eyes never breaking contact with yours, knowing and smug. At least, you thought it had been smug. That could very well be your mind playing tricks on you after your awful, sinful deed from last night eats away at you. Dabi doesn't know. He can't know. He’s no mind reader. Not omnipotent. Just a man. With tattoos. And muscles and god, you have to get yourself together.

“Hm, does your butterscotch silk latte have real butter in it?” The younger boy pipes up, completely oblivious to the question finally breaking the staring contest between you and Dabi. 

You almost laugh. Of course it doesn’t. They’re all syrups. Sugary sweet and addictive. But you answer him anyway, not wanting to come off rude and risk another ‘coaching’ from your manager.

“No, but it has the flavor of butterscotch candy,” you beam, trying too hard not to look weird. You pray no one notices.

“Alright, I'll take that one.”

You nod, looking back at Dabi. “And for you, sir?”

He takes his time thinking, bringing a finger to his chin to mockingly emphasize just how hard it is to come up with an order from a cafe menu. You want the ground to open and swallow you whole. 

He looks back at you, a smile gracing his features and you feel your heart skip a beat. “I dunno. What do you recommend?”

You stammer, unsure of what coffee would suit him best. This was a test of some kind and you were sure to fail. “Well, do you prefer a sweeter coffee or something with a bit more bite?” You ask in desperate hopes to get something out of him. Some kind of clue to help you. 

Dabi only shrugs, heavy lidded eyes giving the illusion of boredom, but the smirk on his face showed otherwise. You knew better. He was definitely toying with you. “Dunno. How about you just make me your favorite drink and we go from there?” 

“Um, yeah, okay. I’ll just ring it up for you and they’ll have it out in–” 

“Oh, I want you to make it.” he cuts you off. 

You don't make drinks. You run the counter. You are a cashier and not a drink maker but when someone as good looking as Dabi asks you to… well, it's worth a shot. You know exactly what goes in the drink. You've had it made dozens of times. 

So you nod, ring them up and get to it. Your fumbling movements only show your amateur status as a drink maker but you push through it. Combining syrups and coffee and trying your best to still eavesdrop on the guys waiting for their drinks at the counter. 

“Thank you for inviting me here, Touya.” You hear the younger boy say. Touya. You thought his name was Dabi. You’re not sure, but you assume this is the little brother his coworker may have mentioned. They look similar. 

“Yeah, just don’t mention it to Natsuo, he’ll have a fit if he found out.” Dabi (Touya?) responds, checking his watch.

You were almost finished with the drink, the last missing piece being the whipped cream topping, but the can was giving you a hard time.

It was unwilling to open and you were not willing to give up. After a small splatter and a concerned look from a coworker, you get the pump to work. Effectively spraying the whipped topping on the drink and taking it over to dabi. The younger boy already had his drink made and it was only you keeping them waiting. 

“Iced mocha latte with whip cream. Hope you like it.” you say, extending the drink to the man before you, praying he doesn't notice the slight waver of your hand. Dabi stares at you for a moment and you’re pretty sure you blew it. He won't even think the drink is worth trying. 

He leans forward, close enough that you smell the faint cologne he’s wearing, and reaches a hand forward. His thumb brushed your cheek, revealing a drop of whipped cream. Your face heats up, and heats further as you watch his tongue dart out, a glimmer of silver taunting you as he licks his thumb. The eye contact is electrifying as he pulls back, taking his drink. “Thanks. I'm eager to try it.” 

You’re stuck watching his back as he walks away, brother in tow as the familiar chime of the bell announces their departure. 

That night, in the cool quiet of your room you pull out your faithful vibrator and cum so hard you see stars, fresh and woodsy scent of Touya’s cologne still lingering in your nose.

—-----

He keeps stopping by. 

Every time it’s with a different person and it's almost like he's taunting you. Playing a game or teasing you. But he’s never alone. 

Every time he asks for the same thing – iced mocha latte, your style– and every time you rush to make it for him.  

Until one friday. 

He came in just as your store was closing. The perks of working in a coffee shop is that they close at a reasonable time. This time it was four in the afternoon, sun shining and the day was still looking promising. You greet him as usual and prepare yourself for his order. Today is no different from the others.

Except this time he doesn't leave right away. 

The shop is closing and he's still standing there, staring at you as he sips his coffee. You weren't sure what he was playing at, but you continued your work. Finishing up and pulling out your keys to lock up the shop. You would have to walk past him, inform him that the store was closed and he would need to leave as you did, since it was your unlucky day to close. 

You gather your nerves and walk towards the door, turquoise eyes following your every move. Steeling yourself, you inhale ready to politely kick him out and run to your home. 

“What are you doing after this?” He starts, cutting you off before words could leave your lips. His gaze is unfazed as you’re taken by surprise. 

The keys jingle in your hand as you furrow your brows in confusion. “What?”

He shakes the cup of coffee, ice crashing together and liquid sloshing around. “I said, what are you doing after this? As in, plans.” 

“Oh, I have to go home and study,” you answer lamely. It was the truth. The whole reason you had this job was for the hours and free time it gave you to study.

He only smiled, eyes alight with mischief. “How studious of you.”

You walk towards the door and surprisingly Dabi opens it for you, following closely behind. “Well, yeah,” you reply, finally locking the doors with a huff. “It’s almost like I'm a student or something.” 

There was a scoff at this. “Snappy.” 

You look away, dried leaf on the sidewalk being the most interesting thing you have at the moment. Not the man standing before you, sipping the coffee you made and analyzing your every move. 

You move to walk past him, he steps in front of you. You try the other way, only to be met with him in front of you, again, sipping his nearly empty coffee drink. You can’t believe the metaphorical man of your dreams was this childish.

He calls your name, catching your attention. 

Shock stains your features as your eyes meet his, “how do you know my–?”

“Name tag.” He points out, sharp and clear. Heat rises to your cheeks. Right. Name tag. You were sure that now would be the perfect time to be swallowed up by the ground. 

He speaks again, interrupting your train of thought. “Let's hang out.”

“Why?” You ask before you think.

He shrugs, “‘cause I'm bored and you shouldn’t waste a Friday afternoon buried in a book.”

Are you dreaming? You have to be. There was no way he was asking you this. Dream or not, you weren't going to let the opportunity pass you by. “What did you want to do?” You humor him. 

He grins. “We can figure it out.”

“Fine.”

—---

Your tiny apartment never felt more cramped as you watched Dabi make himself at home. 

“Did you want anything to drink?” You ask, forcing yourself to ignore the blatant invasion of privacy as he scanned over the notes scattered across your coffee table. 

“Sure.”

You drag yourself to the couch, two glasses in tow and hand one to the man before you. This felt like a prank. Surreal. The guy who’s plagued your mind for weeks is here, in your home, fresh cologne and fluffy hair distracting and endearing. 

It was strange, but you learned a lot about Dabi on the way to your apartment. He prefers the name Dabi and not Touya. Only his family calls him that. He works for a computer company and he hates superhero movies. 

Your dream man had a lot of odd... quirks, but they were charming.

“Do you know that you have a staring problem?” 

The question shakes you from your thoughts, condensation from the glass wetting your fingers as you realize you hadn't even taken a sip. Way too focused on the man before you. Watching him as he watched you back, eyes light and teasing. 

The heat rising to your face gave away your embarrassment as you turned away from him and focused on drinking your water. It was refreshing and distracting as Dabi relaxed into the couch more, turning towards you and letting his arm rest on the couch space above your head, almost caging you in, the space between you quickly becoming nonexistent. 

You stood to your feet, abrupt and hoping to diffuse the air between you both. Your head started to feel fuzzy and you needed a little space. You reached down to grab Dabi’s empty glass from the coffee table, hoping to put it away and put more distance between you when you noticed his expression shift to one of surprise.

“Oh? What’s this?” 

He’s up before you could register the curiosity in his voice. Your eyes followed him as he walked over to your nightstand and you felt your stomach turn. 

Your breath hitched as you immediately recognized the small object in his hand. It was your bullet vibrator. The one you forgot to put away last night and now the man of your dreams had it, holding it up for all to see.

The mortification is suffocating as you drop the cups back on the table and rush towards dabi, desperate to get the device from him. 

You fall short as he holds it above your reach, the grin that filled your dreams now becoming one of your nightmares.

“Dabi! Put it down!” You yell, standing on your toes and pressing against him, ignoring your close proximity as you reach for your vibrator. 

This only seemed to amuse the man more, “What? So you can use it?” 

Your words caught in your throat as you continued to push and reach, taking another step forward as he took one backwards. 

Dabi must have underestimated the closeness of your bed because in a second he goes down, now sitting on the bed and you take the opportunity to climb into his lap. Almost snatching the device, but he was faster. Instead, his free hand pushes you further in the direction you were reaching, effectively knocking you down onto the bed and onto your side. 

He wasted no time, crowding you and caging you beneath him, the vibrator tauntingly being waved in your face. 

“What’s all the fuss about? Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed.” You could do nothing but helplessly stare up at him and pray he didn’t notice you press your thighs together, arousal soaking your panties.

The man of your dreams was here, in your home, in your bed, above you and teasing relentlessly. 

“You want me to give it back?” He asked, you could only nod your head, scared to make a noise in the fear of anything coming out in the form of a moan. “Okay, beg for it.”

You felt goosebumps dance across your skin as your face burned. “Please.”

Dabi only raised a bow. Not enough. 

You swallowed, your pride and shame flowing out of your head and down your body. “P-please give it back.” His smile makes your heart race.

“Give what back?” God he was driving you mad like this.

“Please Dabi. Please give me my v-vibrator back.” 

Dabi sits up with a satisfied huff and you think you’re finally free of this nightmare. 

Your thoughts are shut down as you hear the familiar buzz of your vibrator stirring to life. You shoot him an incredulous look as he just gives you that grin. Pushing your thighs apart and pressing the humming device to your clothed cunt. You can't stop the gasp that escapes your lips.

“What? I’m just giving it back to you like you asked.”

Your brain is in system overload. The sensation of the device was dulled by the fabric of your jeans but that didn’t stop the pleasure from reaching you. 

Dabi leaned in, tongue piercing flashing as he wet his lips. Your eyes followed the motion. That damn tongue piercing has been haunting you for weeks. 

Your line of focus is not lost on dabi, his eyes alight with mischief, 

“See something you like?” He teases before diving down, tongue running a wet streak from your collarbone up to your jaw, the ball of metal sending shivers down your spine. “You’re such a cute little whore, I’ll show you what else it can do.” 

You weren't sure if you should feel insulted by the name or elated by the promise, you didn’t have time to figure it out either as you were lifted and your clothes were stripped, cool air of the room meeting your heated body.

Dabi had you on your back again and wasted no time pressing his lips to yours, teasing tongue darting out and you were eager to taste the sleek metal. You could only mewl into his mouth as the once tossed aside vibrator found your bare clit. The intense and familiar feeling is only amplified by the object of your affections holding you down.

You were so wet the vibrator had no issues gliding back and forth across your clit, slick soaking it and Dabi’s fingers. The man in question pulled back, bringing his free hand to your tits, kneading and massaging them as his mouth met your budding nipple. 

The cool glide of his piercing was invigorating, causing heat to pool in your belly. Your hands shot to his soft hair, gripping tighter than you intended. You were so close to cumming and it’s almost embarrassing how fast you were going to meet your end. 

Dabi paid no mind, groaning at the grip you had in his hair and giving your nipple a particularly hard suck. 

The combination of sensations leave you breathless as the orgasm crashes over you, pulling a cry from the back of your throat. 

“Ah,” you hear him breathe, your thighs twitching from the sensation of it all. “I missed it. I wanted to see the look on your face when you came.” 

You could only whimper as he pulled away, vibrator still humming. “Guess I'll have to do it again.” 

Your eyes widened at his words and you opened your mouth, desperate to get a word out, before he clicks the device again. The whirring is louder as the settings are ramped up and pressed to your already overstimulated clit. 

You couldn’t bite back the cry as he pressed harder onto your bud, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure jolting through your body. 

“D-dabi, please,” you cried, “I’m gonna–”

He only laughed as you reached a weak hand down, in hopes of slowing the inevitable. It's effortless, the way he takes your wrist and pins it down with his free hand. Instead choosing to focus on getting another orgasm out of you. 

It doesn't take much more than that, eyes rolling back as the second wave of euphoria wracks your body.

“Aw, look at the mess you made.” His voice drags you out of your thoughts, the hum of the vibrator finally ceases as it's shut down. Dabi leans down and places an open mouthed kiss directly onto your clit, smooth piercing slipping across the bundle of nerves and causing you to gasp. 

You felt weak, thighs twitching as you came back down from your high. You’re not sure how much more your body can take, but Dabi seems to be in the business of finding out. Pressing a finger against your entrance and pumping it. The feeling makes your breath catch, hands gripping the sheets. 

You can only watch as his other hand strokes his cock in anticipation, giddy feeling budding in your lower abdomen as you take notice of the shining silver piercing there. 

Of course his dick is pierced too. Just your luck. 

Dabi is as observant as ever and follows your gaze, pressing a second finger into you, the stretch pulling a moan from your lips. He curls them and you squeeze your eyes shut in pleasure. 

After a moment of this, he’s had enough, sliding his fingers out with a wet pop and leaning over you. A pathetic moan escapes you as you feel his erection rub against your cunt, wet and waiting. He stalls, looking down at you with that grin that drives you mad. 

“Ready?” He asks and you don't have a chance to respond before he’s pushing forward, tight muscles stretching around his cock and sucking him in further. Your toes curl in pleasure, feeling overwhelming as you gasp. 

He presses on, stretching you further and finally bottoming out within you, head brushing your cervix. He doesn’t give you a chance to adjust, pulling back far enough to make you want more, but not enough to pull out completely, before slamming forward and starting a ruthless pace. 

Your hands grip his back, trying to find any kind of purchase to ground yourself. Dabi is having a blast, dropping his head onto your shoulder as he enjoyed the warmth of your walls pulling him in. The rhythmic drag of his piercing massaging the spot inside that makes you see stars.

It was too much. You felt yourself on the verge of coming undone for the third time and desperately clung to the feeling.

“You got another one for me, slut?” He mocked, tone only pushing you further as he grabbed your hair, roots burning while he whispered into your ear, “Do it, show me how desperate you are.” 

And you do. You feel your legs shake as electric energy washes over your body, back arching as you pull Dabi closer. There’s a groan from him as your walls tighten and it only takes the erratic flow of his thrust to signal he was getting close too. 

It's only a few moments later that he’s coming undone inside you, bottomed out as his balls press against your pussy. The warm feeling of being filled spreads across your body as your cheeks heat with the realization of what just happened. 

Dabi takes a minute to catch his breath, softening inside you before slowly pulling out and it's impossible to ignore the emptiness left behind. 

You’re not sure what to say as he takes his place beside you on the bed, eyes closed and face satiated. 

“You know,” he starts, catching your attention, “your favorite coffee sucks.”

You scoff in disbelief, the randomness catching you off guard. “Could have fooled me, that's the only thing you order.”

“Yeah,” he turns his head, blue eyes meeting yours, “but I liked to watch you make it, so that makes up for it.” 

You roll your eyes, masking the way your heart flutters, “yeah, well, I guess I’ll have to make you something else.”

He smiles, lids falling shut, “yeah, I guess you will.”

[siddyyyyyyyy]

University Romance

Johnny 'Soap' McTavish x female!Reader

part three; two, one

wc: ~3k

summary: You and Johnny are two professors at a university, and he often catches you working late in your office. Also, you're just really good friends and there's probably more to it.

warnings: none, no y/n used, 'crazy' chemistry professor Soap, Johnny and Reader are about the same age, the name of the university is fictional

a/n: this is probably the most cheesy and frustrating part of them all. Have fun!

Redcrest High Acedamy, Friday 12:30 PM

»Dad wants to grill tomorrow. Some relatives are joining too.«

Johnny is thrown out of his thoughts, not having seen you approach him. He puts his empty food tray away and processes your words, finally looking at you.

»Oh, nice... and I'm invited, I guess?« You huff at his question, crossing your arms at him.

»I wouldn't tell you if you weren't.«

He nods again at your words, pretending to have been sarcastic about it.

»Right, right... I'll also be there tomorrow. Just text me when.« You stop walking at his words, expecting something more from him. He also stops, looking at you confused.

»We'll go shopping before that. Together.« You clarify, making him feel dumbfounded. Of course you'd need to go shopping together. How was he this stupid to miss out on that? Seriously.

»Oh, right. Yeah, right... um, when's that?« He asks this time and rubs the back of his neck, probably trying to come as casual as possible in front of you. In reality, Johnny is experiencing five stages of grief in his mind. Grilling with you and some relatives, also going grocery shopping with you before that? There's absolutly no reason for him to try and create another personality just for that occasion at all.

From the day he got to know your father, he also found out about the so-called relatives. All very close friends from your father that had a history in the military or CIA. He knew he was doomed. Not exactly knowing why, but he is sure everyone would be at least a little spooked by your family once they hear about their professions.

Eventually, you decided to go straight to the shopping mall after the last lecture. It was a little over seven in the evening once you arrived in the grocery store; it had the perfect temperature for a nice walk. Finally, you are inside the store and can start following the list your father sent you this morning.

Going around the aisles, you made Johnny carry the basket while putting the items into it. It's mostly him following you around and inspecting the grocery store at the same time. Once you get to the meat section, he can't help but make a joke.

»Oh, I know bigger meat than that.« You pause at his comment, keeping the pack of raw ribs in your hand, and look to him beside you, puzzled.

»...Those are ribs, Johnny. What do you mean?«

By the dumb smirk on his face, it's not clear if he is more amused by your confusion or his own joke. He tries again, taking a subtle step closer to you.

»You know, the-«

»Soap? Miss Price?!«

Another voice from behind you luckily interrupts you both, making you glance behind your shoulders. The rather annoying voice is instantly recognised by Johnny; you are having some trouble with it, however. But judging from the way the younger man had used the nickname his students gave Johnny, it's not hard to put the pieces together.

»Carl...« Your colleague sighs out, his shoulders slumping down as he looks to his student. Of course, you had thought about possible students spotting you in the grocery store, but you've also never thought there would be actual students of your university in here.

»What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be doing the assignment I gave you?«

Johnny continues in a more firm tone, but Carl is definitely not fazed by it, instead looking between the two of you briefly. It must be weird for him to see his professors at a grocery store, only having seen them in the university. They have a life outside of that building?

»Yeah, but I also have to take care of my groceries. I'm also an adult, you know?« Carl counters back easily, his eyes fleeting to the basket Johnny is holding and at the ribs in your hand, briefly.

»Oh, are you preparing for the grill party you talked about?«

Now this makes you look to Johnny with a rather scolding look, having thought he stopped talking about you in his lessons. Johnny scoffs as he senses your look, really needing to get out of this situation. He eventually shakes his head and tries to say something appropriate, even when he wants to curse his student out and make him fail all his classes.

»Carl— really bad moment. Do you really want more trouble? You already failed that experiment and almost caused a fire, I would just walk away in your position.«

Finally, Carl nods and looks sheepishly to the ground. A brief moment of silence goes by before he speaks up, more quieter this time.

»There are steaks in sale in the last row... Just so you know.«

He mumbles before finally stepping off and possibly making his way out of the store. However, very unfortunate for Johnny, you are still there and clearly bemused by the situation.

»I thought you stopped talking about me in your classes. We talked about this.« You put the pack of ribs with less gentleness into the basket, huffing out slightly.

»Look, I know... this, well...I really just told them about a grillparty. I never said your name or anything.«

Johnny is trying his hardest to not make you any more annoyed by him, being angry towards his poor student now. He hovers his hand by the small of your back, subtly guiding you around the store to try and keep you close, at least.

»I really, really didn't say anything about you. I promise you, I just said, 'I'm going to a grill party this weekend, don't expect me to grade all your stuff 'til Monday.' That's literally all I said, and the boom-box just had to be noisy.«

He rambles out while you keep your eyes on the grocery list in your phone, not being able to actually be upset for long. He is practically using the beat up puppy look on you now, which is why you won't look at him. After a few silent seconds, you relent by rolling your eyes and exhaling softly.

»Just tell your 'boom-box' to stop being so noisy and loud. And, for the love of God, stop talking about your private life in your lectures.«

Johnny smiles relieved and finally puts his hand on your back properly while guiding you to the last row. He apologises again and keeps closer to you this time, as if afraid you would change your mind if he went away for a minute.

In the end, you brought all the necessary stuff from the grocery list your dad wrote, standing by the cashier now. The elder lady scans the products while you go through the list one last time, noticing you're missing an item.

»Oh, Johnny, could you grab some mushrooms, please?«

He nods and eventually lets you sort the scanned items into the basket for now, making his way to get mushrooms. While he is away, the cashier smiles warmly at you and finally speaks up.

»You guys are lovely! I love seeing fine gentlemen like your husband; I really wish my son was as nice as your husband, he really needs someone to settle down with. But I am really happy you have such a man like your husband, there needs to be more men like these.«

Before you could respond to her ramble, Johnny was already back with the mushrooms you sent him to get, taking back the basket from you and continuing to sort the items into it like before. He is oblivious to your flusterness from the lady's words. Johnny, the fine gentleman he is, ends up paying for the groceries and carries them back to his car with you.

While driving you back to your place, he can't help but notice how quiet you've become. Did you change your mind and are still upset about him and Carl? Should he actually let his student fail at his class?

He decides to not address it for now, hoping he is just overthinking again and shouldn't even think in the first place.

----

House of your Dad, Saturday 2:16 PM

The time you should all meet was 2:15 PM, however, Johnny is one minute late. He is also the earliest one. Always has been by far.

You're preparing the stuff for the grill in the kitchen with your dad, hearing the door ring. John, your father, makes his way to greet the first guest, already assuming it's that chemistry freak of yours.

And after opening the door, he's greeted with Johnny McTavish, in his flesh. They greet each other as usual, a strong bear hug, followed with the usual small talk they have as they're catching up.

They finally arrive in the kitchen, helping you out with getting the ingredients ready. Both John's are now setting up the grill, while you get to greet the other guests; Laswell with her wife arriving at second.

Nikolai, or as you call him, Uncle Nikolai, arrives almost right after the pair and gives you a warm hug as well. He settles on helping on the grill while catching up, a cup of a sweet drink in his hand. Lastly, Frank arrives, or as Price usually calls him by his nickname, 'Woods'. Or Uncle Woods, for most of the time, for you.

The names really are bizarre, but you've stopped questioning them after the third time of asking as a kid. Seriously, Woods? Like, the one's in the forest? Price? Like, the tags on stuff? What kind of names are those?

Besides the funny names, all these close friends of your father were and always are nice to you. Even with their obscure, horrifying, and action-filled stories that they carry around, these are always people you can trust and feel loved by.

Laswell takes you out of your thoughts, as you're all sitting at the table in the backyard, while the others are standing by the grill with a few drinks in hand and making sure everything is nicely cooked.

»How's work, sweetie?«

As always she smiles kindly at you and waits for your answer, her wife sitting beside her as she also waits for your answer. You three mostly talk about the typical stuff, getting into small talk before Laswell gets to tell you a story from probably a few years ago, when she still worked with your dad together before retiring.

»... But Nikolai didn't know and thought he just fell out, informing John, and he almost lost his mind! Imagine; your father stressed, while following the vehicle that I was taken hostage in; finding out his sergeant fell out of the helicopter. Insane, right? But luckily, they rescued me and nothing bad happened.«

You listen to the story as your aunt laughs lightly, finding some kind of humour in that horrifying 'story'. It was clear that your father and his friends had a broken humour, hardened by all the things they saw, but it always manages to amaze you.

»He did have his safety-rope on, right? Nothing happened?«

You ask, wanting to hear her clarify that again, and they aren't laughing about somethig tragic now. Nikolai joins by, sitting down on the chair beside you.

»Oh, he did, he did... He was as fine as a cucumber.« He answers your question with a soft chuckle, seeing the rather worried look on your face before you relax again.

Soon Johnny is placing the grilled meat and sausages on the table, your father joining at the table with more sweet drinks and glasses. Woods also joins eventually, sitting down with a small grunt besides your dad. Everyone is settled, getting some salads on your plate and the grilled goods, enjoying the light atmosphere as some R&B playlist is softly playing in the background.

»When are you getting married, son?« Nikolai nudges Johnny lightly and waits for his answer. Of course, the most dreaded question on the table comes on. Johnny just shrugs, trying to answer casually and shrug it off as best as possible.

»When my students will stop giving me grey hair.«

Uncle Woods barks out a laugh at the opposite of the table, looking to him. »Don't. You'll wait until retirement if you keep that up.«

»When I was your age...« John, your father starts, not meaning to sound like a total boomer but still gets interrupted by Laswell.

»Yeah, you were almost working yourself to the bone at his age and locked up one of the most wanted terorrists. Don't start talking.«

She scolds lightly, taking a sip of her drink while Johnny sulks secretly beside you. Your aunt didn't mean to sound mean or as if Johnny didn't achieve anything in his life, but it still makes him stare at his plate full of regret for a brief moment.

The evening goes by with fun chats and more unbelievable stories from the time from their military time, eventually sitting contentedly at the big table. The sun is lower on the sky now, making up for a casual orange tint across the backyard. After talking some more, you decided to clean up the table together, Nikolai helping you while doing so. Johnny tried to help out as well, but got held back by Price, letting him sit at the table for now, while you and Uncle Nik are preparing to put the cakes out and get some warm drinks.

»Now, son... I've got a mission for you.«

Price starts in a low tone, turning to face him better and make sure the message comes across. Woods leans his forearms on the table in front of him, also looking seriously to the oblivious chemist.

»If you won't make a move on my daughter, I will force you. We already talked about this, you know? Either now, or never.«

Woods joins on it, speaking up while putting his most serious and threatening expression on. »Damn right. And keep in mind; Price doesn't let anoyone get this close to his daughter. You are lucky we even like you.«

Johnny gulps as he hears these men talk to him like this, feeling his own body tense as they size him up him. »Just promise me to finally grow a pair and ask her out.«

Your dad doesn't say anything more and awaits his response. Laswell and her wife can't help but crack a small smile at the whole interrogation act they pull on him, but not interrupting for now. Finally, Johnny answers with a calm tone. At least he hopes he comes off as calm.

»I will, Mister Price. I'll... I will do it soon.«

After his response, the go back to being normal like before and seem satisfied with him for now.

»You know, it took me one year to take up my courage and speak to my wife. Don't be so hard on yourself.«

Price waves her comment off dismissively, looking to Lawell now. »You're lesbian, Kate. That's different.«

The table resonates with laughter once you walk into the backyard with Nik, a simple cake in hand while your uncle carries the few cups in for some coffee and tea. You're oblivious to what they were discussing just now, seeing them all laugh and have a good time.

You set down the cake in the middle and cut it into eight pieces while Nik and Woods are pouring warm coffee and tea into the cups, handing it around the table. The sun is slowly sinking on the sky, creating a more calming atmosphere as it's getting a little chilly out. Eventually, you're sitting beside Johnny again, eating a pieece of cake while chatting with the rest.

----

House of your Dad, 8:07 PM

After some longer while it's time to say goodbye, finally cutting the chemist some slack. As your dad guides everyone out, you and Johnny are cleaning up the table in the backyard before loading the dishwasher in the kitchen together. As you're at the last few dishes, Johnny takes up his courage.

You're washing your hands by the sink as he steps closer beside you and lean against the counter while looking to you.

»I've been thinking about this for a while now, and... do you want to go out some time? Like... in the new restaurant by my place?«

As you're drying your hands, you look to him too and nod without hesitating or thinking too much about it. You two have been talking about that restaurant before, having planned to go there for a while.

»Sure, we could go there sometime. I won't mind.«

Johnny smiles, feeling his heart stutter in his chest at your words. He can't believe this is real, you agreed so easily to it.

»Really?«

He asks, trying his best to keep cool and not totally freak out from the surge of excitement he feels right now. Finally, it has been so easy all the time, and he was too afraid to actually ask you out. He could jump out of happiness.

»Yeah, we're just hanging out, right? I'm sure I'll have some time for that.«

You ask and watch him, waiting for his answer. He, on the other hand, freezes at your question. Did he really need to mess up this badly?

»Uh... sure. We'll just hang out. And stuff.« He manages to answer, gripping the counter for dear life he is leaning on. You notice the way he seems pained, but your dad walks in, checking in to see if you both need some more help. Eventually, you three guide Johnny out and watch him drive off to his own home finally.

»I would marry him if I were you.« Price pats your shoulder before he enters the house again, leaving you on your own at the porch. ...what?

a/n: this is very frustrating, but I promise you, the next part will be longer and better. Hope you ennjoyed it!

and yes, the black ops and helicopter mission reference is real

[gaykarstaagforever]

1970

Another proto-Elseworlds, 100% about Superman and Lois breeding.

The Bronze Age of DC comics, featuring less nonsense like this, started around 1973. You know, when America's broken boys started returning from the Killing Fields of The 'Nam? Which Marvel also turned into a comic book of the same name, in 1986. Because wtf, you lunatics??

They got seven years out of this. That's two years longer than the actual colonial war we inherited from the French.

Amazing.

Is the Silver Age ending when that war did a huge coincidence?

Probably. But it is funnier to pretend otherwise.

This story is exactly Superman and Lois giving birth to Stewie Griffin, and shenanigans ensue. Granted, Stewie didn't exist in 1970 (and probably only exists because Seth grew up on this garbage), so it may have hit harder back then. I have no idea. Ask your favorite Vietnam vet.

Otherwise, the story here is mostly just inexplicable stuff happening, that may or may not have anything to do with the plot. Like this:

The implication is that the Freak Baby results from Lois's probably-a-real-car-I-can't-identify getting exploded by lightning hitting a gas tank.

But then no. It is just some guy with weird hair, doing things with rays to Lois's womb.

And if that isn't gross enough, he also watches Superman and Lois in their bedroom.

The baby is born with a giant head, and is super-intelligent and evil from the rays. Which is all part of a really stupid plan by the weird guy to "Take Over the World". In the most convoluted way possible.

Suffice it to say, it takes Superman approximately one million years to figure out something strange is going on. During which time, he keeps trying to stuff baby food into the mouth of an obvious monster who keeps yelling at him.

Enjoy this panel as you will, Tumblr.

My nerdy favorite part of this comic is how no one at DC in 1970 could figure out how to draw striped wrapping paper, but tried anyway:

Another highlight is this fascinatingly irresponsible Superman feat:

I'm sure you're desperate to know how Superman stops his evil baby from helping the weird guy conquer the world.

...Well, okay. First, this happens:

Space is involved. They try to explain it and it just makes it worse.

To the point. The weird guy's whatever plan immediately falls apart, the moment Freak Baby figures out what is going on and decides to enslave him as a henchman as part of a NEW plan, to force the Government to pay him millions of dollars or he won't let any flying planes land. Which isn't bad, relative to the rest of this nonsense.

It is looking pretty good for him until he just...falls asleep.

See, my first thought was probably the same as yours: he's still a baby. He just got all tuckered out.

But no. That would make the barest amount of sense. He passes out because Superman secretly drugged a jigsaw puzzle he played with days before, with some kind of special sleepy toxin that he invented, specifically to make his monster baby pass out days later.

Because there was literally no other way to deal with this, before the kid started crashing airplanes and making public ransom demands.

At the end, the baby is "cured" of being a monster, and everything is fine. In a universe where everyone now knows Superman and Lois had a monster baby who probably killed people.

...Was the weird guy recording the footage he collected from Superman and Lois's bedroom? I feel like he probably would have.

I bet Lex Luthor has it now. Luthor, and Batman.

And maybe Jimmy Olsen.

[menwrittenbywomen]

I’ve seen a few posts talking about how it’s such a tragedy that Sirius never got to know his brother died a hero.

But what if Sirius did know.

What if Sirius found out right before he died that Regulus tried to fix things. Tried to make things right.

And if the day Sirius found out also happened to be the day that he died, then doesn’t that hurt a little bit more?

Maybe he had woken up that morning, not yet ready to start the day, sleep still calling to him.

And maybe that sleep was rudely interrupted.

Because the incessant noise downstairs was too loud to ignore, and the tenth or so time Sirius heard it he had to go investigate.

When he found the source of the noise, he quickly went from annoyed to confused. Kreacher doing everything he could to spite him wasn’t anything new, but the strange object in his hand certainly was. It didn’t look anything like the other old family heirlooms lying around the house.

And when Kreacher quickly tried to hide the…the something, Sirius knew he wasn’t going to let up until he knew what it was.

A verbal game of chess was started then. Anyone else most likely would have given up after the many insults and vague responses. Not Sirius. He despised anything that connected him to his relatives, but he couldn’t deny the stubbornness was a Black trait through and through. Every time a question was evaded, he found a new way to make it so that he got the answers he wanted.

Or, the ones he thought he wanted.

Because as his questions started to be answered and the truth began to unfold, he started to regret ever prodding in the first place.

The thing, which Sirius discovered to be an enchanted locket, couldn’t have really been the reason his brother died.

Regulus would never sacrifice himself for something so ugly. He liked pretty things, Regulus, and would always collect them. Rocks. Seashells. Coins.

Sirius used to think it was adorable. And he had been sad when Regulus eventually stopped the habit. How strange it was that people change so much you could barely recognize them.

So, of course Sirius didn’t believe the elf at first.

Why would he?

It was ridiculous. How could his brother, who used to cry when it stormed outside, have had the guts to defy the most evil wizard of their time?

No, Regulus was much too soft to ever do something insane like that.

Wasn’t he?

But then Sirius found out his Godson had snuck into the ministry and was in danger…and he didn’t have time to think about the past.

Then there was a lot of fighting. And his only priority was keeping Harry safe.

Harry, who was about the same age Reggie was when…

No, he couldn’t think about that.

Harry was nothing like that traitor.

Maybe they both had a sarcastic demeanor and were fiercely loyal to those they believed deserved it. Not afraid to tell someone what they thought of them.

They both liked to add honey and lemon to their tea.

But they were very different.

In the most important ways, anyway.

Harry was much more similar Sirius’ real brother. James. The only one who mattered in the end.

Or rather, the only one who should matter.

Regulus made his choice. And idiotic one. One that got him killed.

Harry still had a chance. He could be better than all of them, if he got the opportunity.

Harry was only a child. Fifteen and still figuring out the highs and lows of life. He still had time.

Time.

Something that not many people had a lot of. Almost everyone Sirius ever loved ran out of theirs much too quickly.

Even, he begrudgingly had to admit, his little brother.

It was a bit strange when he thought about it too much. Whether Regulus deserved his fate or not didn’t really cross his mind sometimes. Because Sirius was older it only made sense that he would be the first to go. First one of the two of them into the world, first one gone from it.

Funny, that.

Even more strange was that Sirius’ anger at Regulus had somehow fizzled away into something else. Something a little softer in nature but much more painful. Because the truth was, he knew he would never truly understand how he and his brother turned into what they became. He would never know what truly happened. But the fact that maybe, just maybe, his little brother died doing the right thing healed something within him he knew was broken but didn’t know could be fixed.

But dwelling on the ghosts of strangers he knew too much about wasn’t going to help him now.

And even though Harry might have reminded him of Regulus, there was one thing that made all the difference.

Sirius knew he could still save Harry. He hadn’t lost him, not yet. He was alive. He had his whole life ahead of him. Harry was another chance for Sirius to prove that he was capable of saving someone he loved.

Harry, with his glasses a little too big on a his face, a slightly crooked grin, and perpetually messy hair.

Harry, who looked just like…

Like…

“Nice one, James!”

[amberjazmyn]

butterfly kisses 🫶 (part two of slipping through my fingers)

pairing : charles leclerc x fem!leclerc reader

summary : madaline and her husband noah are now married and at their reception hear all the speeches and then get the surprise of her life when their daddy-daughter first dance is called.

warnings : other than some tears, older brother x charles leclerc, wedding fluff, emotional wedding speech, emotional first dance, not much 

a/n : i mentioned in the first part that i wanted part two to follow up with another abba song so it'd make sense but, the only other song i could relatively think of was "my love, my life" but at the same token, it didn't make sense to use in a wedding. so, i decided to do westlife's version of "butterfly kisses" for this second part of this little two-parter

madaline smiled with tearful eyes, in her second dress of the evening, as she listened to her two brothers-in-law finish their speeches, squeezing her husband noah's hand to reassure him that she was okay even though he was just as emotional. giving taylor and damien, her two brothers-in-law hugs after their heart-warming speeches that praised their brother but also welcomed madaline into the family, a clinking of a wine glass from a seat away from madaline reverted everyone's attention away from the brothers. 

breathing in deeply, madaline turned to see that charles, lorenzo and arthur, her brothers, had stood up to say their speech since charles was actually noah's best man, not damien and taylor. but charles had been stalling his speech for the majority of the entire reception because of how nervous he had suddenly become, hence why lorenzo and arthur were stood there with him. already bracing for even more emotions charles' speech would be in comparison to damien and taylor's, she held a tight grip on her sangria glass. she watched as charles tried to compose himself before thinking about saying anything as noah kept his hand in madaline's right hand, comforting his wife, which they both knew they needed and was very helpful.

smiling at the brother and sister, noah relaxed as his brother-in-law cleared his throat before speaking into the microphone as everyone's attention was quickly on charles. and poor charles, who almost looked like a deer caught in headlights, quickly again composing himself before he spoke up

"--umm, hello everyone. for those of you who may not know me, i'm charlels leclerc, i am one of the older brothers of our very gorgeous bride, madaline castellano *cheers*. however, something that may seem a little bit shocking about madaline and i is our slight age gap between the two of us *laughter*. for those of you who may not be aware of it, please, hold onto your pearls because i was one when madaline was born..." breathing in to compose himself, and allow him to hear the giggles of his joke, charles smiled and continued on

"...which, i know, a year between me and madaline isn't that shocking but, because i was one, the shocking part about this whole thing is that i remember the very day that our parents told me, lorenzo and arthur that they were thinking of giving us another brother or sister. i know it sounds like absolute bull that i remember that day because i was a literal baby but, even lorenzo, arthur and mum can all vouch for this *giggles and head nods*. and i just remembered being so excited that i was going to have another little brother or sister. however, for some reason, i have this distinct memory of lorenzo saying "it better be a girl this time, i can't spoil charles and arthur any longer!" *giggles*. and whilst he made a fantastic point, it seemed as though mum knew that question was going to arise so, she told us that she knew straight away that it was going to be a girl and, obviously, because i was only a year old, i was happy? i mean, i have got no clue, that's just what it looked like i felt from what mum said *giggles*. then, fast-forwarding to the day that mum and dad came home with who would be our fourth sibling, we had come to find out that mum was right. it was most definitely a baby girl and it was during this time that i was learning how to talk, apparently *giggles* i mean, it's not apparent because it is very well documented thanks to everyone in my family that when i first saw the baby, baby madaline, that my first word - well, attempted - first word was 'little mads' *coos*. and ever since then, that's what i've called her and at the time, mum nor dad had even revealed to lorenzo, myself or arthur what the name of our new baby sister was. i just apparently had a feeling that i knew her name and little mads is what i said. that was when mum lit up, saying that 'yes charles, that is your little mads, your little sister madaline!' and ever since then, i don't think i've been so protective of anyone more than i have with madaline..." charles' chin wobbled as madaline placed her sangria glass on the table, getting up from her seat and joining her brothers, wrapping her arm around him for comfort - which she could tell he appreciated and that gave her equal comfort 

"...so, ever since that day that we found out we were getting a little sister, i knew that this little girl, at the ripe old age of one, that she was going to be my whole world and that i had to do everything i could possibly do as we got older to make sure that nothing bad would happen to her. and, in all honesty, there were certain times where i wasn't able to keep my promise to madaline where i couldn't do everything possible to stop bad things from happening. but, i've realised that there is absolutely nothing that i can do to stop those things from happening. however, nothing breaks my heart more than how much today has made my heart hurt *small scattered sobs and sniffles*..." charles sniffled as he tried to catch his breath, madaline squeezing him close, arthur and lorenzo as well, as they all braced themselves, only knowing the next thing that charles was about to say 

"...having to watch my little sister get married without our dad alive to walk her down the aisle, having the knowledge that my godfather, our beloved jules, isn't here to see this and then made fun of for getting emotional over it, just like i am right now *giggles and muffled sobs* hurts. it hurts more than i think the four of us leclerc siblings could admit to anyone. whilst we still have our lovely mum with us, and we're ever so grateful for it, we know the dark cloud that hangs over this day because of the fact that we are missing these two important people for my sister's biggest day. and, as much as i wish i could say i'm crying only because of the two people we're missing, i'm also crying because my little sister's married *giggles*. i still wish everyday that our dad and jules were here to see this but, there are never really too far away. but, in saying all that, getting the blessing to walk my little sister down the aisle was the best thing in the world and it was an unforgettable moment. watching my little sister get ready alongside francisca, lily and kelly was beautiful and i'm so glad they had that time together because mum unfortunately had to make sure lorenzo and arthur weren't causing any trouble before helping the rest of the bridesmaids *giggles*. getting to look at madaline, properly look at her, seeing our matching eye colour reminded me of the day when i first met her all the way back when i was also still a baby. i remembered that i was always going to look after my little sister and i'd never intentionally let her be placed in a tough situation. i mean, we unfortunately can't control the losses that we go through in our lives, including what happened to jules and then our dad two years later. i'm sure we all wish we had superhuman powers and able to prevent those kinds of things from happening but, we can't do that and even though it hurts, it's okay because we're not superhuman. and, in all honesty, i have never ever seen someone as emotionally strong as my little sister madaline. however, this is when i do have to give some acknowledgement to her amazing husband, noah *cheers* because i do truly think that it was all due to this very man that my little sister is the happiest she's ever been..." charles breathed in as before continuing as madaline and noah watched intently

"...noah, i remember the first day i met you. almost immediately, i liked you because you were attentive, you were kind, you were caring, you actually cared to listen to what my sister was talking to you about. you were always engaging yourself but not in a show-offy way. you were always very humble when madaline complimented you on something but it was still obvious you were appreciative of also being noticed but also did the same thing when you complimented madaline. to be honest, there was nothing i could pick out that was negative or even the slightest bit iffy about you and neither could the rest of the guys on the f1 grid and, truthfully, at the time, that was a first *laughter* because if i couldn't find a negative, it was usually those guys that could but, mostly it was max *laughter*. however, this time, all of us were at a loss of what it was we could find negative about you and, i think that was when we all realised that maybe, for the first time in a long time, madaline had actually struck gold in the person who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. and, it was in that moment that i was glad that our dad and jules got to meet you because they absolutely adored you, noah *scattered sobs* and this is why it breaks my heart so much that they aren't here to see this happen. but, it was also in that moment that i knew that you weren't just going to hang around for a couple of months and then leave, you were gonna stay for the long run. and, here we are, six years later and now, my little sister is officially madaline leclerc castellano and you, noah, are apart of my family and our family is apart of yours. my entire family, including our beautiful parents, herve and pascale, absolutely adore you and welcome to our wonderful family. and this also includes the f1 family so, sorry about that but, you were basically apart of it the moment i saw you jamming out to the songs that were playing overhead at the paddock at the french grand prix during you and madaline's first month together as a couple *laughter*..." charles giggled as it then turned slightly serious again as he smiled softly

"...little mads, going back to you, i know i said this to you earlier today just before you asked me if i wanted to walk you down the aisle and give you away, i'm going to say it again because it's important..."

"...dad and jules are for sure kicking themselves that they're not here to see this because they'd for sure be enjoying the absolute fuck of this and they'd be screaming from the table tops how much they love you and noah together. i know for sure that dad would have said "c'est une fête, madaline" *giggles* and jules would have been in tears, hugging you tightly and whispering "tu n'es plus un petit bébé, madaline". for those wondering, they translate to, "this is a party, madaline" and "you're not a little baby anymore, madaline," for those who don't speak nor understand french *scattered sobs*. but they also would have been smiling from ear to ear watching you and noah exchange your gorgeous wedding vows to one another. originally *shaky breath* i did intend to have my speech continue for a little longer but, because i'm turning into a first-class mess, i'm just going to end it here and say that i love you both, little mads and noah so much that my heart could very well burst. let's all raise our glasses to noah and madaline leclerc castellano!" charles finished his speech as everyone stood up for the toast to the newly wed couple before madaline wrapped her brother in for a hug, lorenzo, arthur and noah joining in moments later which of course caused some laughter 

❘༻༺❘

there's two things i know for sure, she was sent here from heaven and she's daddy's little girl. as i drop to my knees by her bed at night, she talks to jesus, and i close my eyes. and i thank god for all the joy in my life, oh, but most of all, butterfly kisses after bedtime prayer, sticking little white flowers all up in her hair. 

madaline's eyes filled with tears almost instantly as she realised that the first dance song with her husband had changed from ed sheeran's thinking out loud to westlife's butterfly kisses, the song that herve, her dad, had jokingly requested, years ago, not thinking it would be picked all those years later. sulking that by the time he did become terminally ill that he wouldn't be well enough to dance with his daughter on her wedding day, herve forced his youngest daughter to promise him that by the time it came to her and noah's eventual wedding day, she'd choose a different song. hence why thinking out loud had been picked and butterfly kisses had been scrapped. however, after the deaths of jules and then herve, when the planning for their wedding finally came after noah eventually proposed, charles, the rest of the f1 grid + lorenzo and arthur and noah's two brothers damien and taylor decided that madaline would get the chance to dance to butterfly kisses and that they'd all alternate dancing with her throughout all the song until giving her away back to her husband at the last chorus of the song. 

charles was the first one that would be dancing with her and immediately, madaline broke down in tears almost identical to the way she did the twelve hours before the wedding when she was all freaked out and upset about not having their dad and jules at the wedding after their deaths. 

swaying side to side as the siblings hugged, only slightly moving their feet, charles spoke up in french, "surprise, petits fous! pensais-tu vraiment que nous te laisserions t'en tirer sans avoir ta première danse sur la chanson sur laquelle tu voulais vraiment danser?" charles whispered as madaline tearfully giggled, resting her head on her brother's shoulder suprise, little mads! did you really think we would let you get away with not having your first dance to the song you really wanted to dance to?

"espèce de connard!" the brother and sister tearfully giggled as charles hugged his sister tighter as they continued to dance you bloody twat!

"i know how badly dad wanted this song to be played at the wedding, even if he did joke about it and was defensive when we did push him about it. and i know how devastated you were when we had to change it to thinking out loud so, me and a few others decided to surprise you with this whole thing!" charles smiled shyly in english as marianna smiles, more appreciative than she ever had been of her older brother

"aw, char, thank you! this is the sweetest thing you could have ever done for me on my wedding day!" madaline whispered back as she again smiled into charles' shoulder, again continuing to dance

that was until she felt a light tap and nudge, the nudge from charles and the tap from taylor, one of her two new brothers-in-law that she quickly realised the surprise that charles had done for her. giving her away to taylor, the brother and sister-in-law started to dance to the second verse of the song.

walk beside the pony, daddy, it's my first ride. i know the cake looks funny, daddy, but i sure tried. oh, with all that i've done wrong, i must have done something right, to deserve a hug every morning, and butterfly kisses at night.

madaline smiled as she and taylor danced to this next verse/pre-chorus. although the verse itself didn't exactly correlate to the relationship between the siblings-in-law, it was still a very sweet verse for them to dance to together. especially when it's remembered that the first time that madaline ever met the castellano's was when she was a lot younger and was a part of competitive cheerleading for the local football team, which is how she met the three older castellano brothers since it was their dad that was the owner of the football club that taught a young madaline leclerc how to cheerlead. so, technically speaking, having one of the castellano brothers dance with madaline during this verse did make some sense if the context was known. however, if you didn't know the context of how madaline met her future in-laws and future husband, it would just sound weird that this was the verse where she was dancing with her brother-in-law during her wedding. but, it seemed as if no one cared and was either bawling their eyes out at the sweet gesture for the girl to dance with all the men in her life in the placement of her absent dad or they were just not really in too much tune with the song - which would also be fine too.

then, quickly, in a sweet spin, damien, the second eldest castellano brother caught madaline's hand and started dancing with her for the third verse as taylor walked off back to the rest of the men who were in line to dance with their sister/niece/wife what have you.

as damien danced with his sister-in-law, he spoke up after some silence, "...so, welcome to the family sis. i'm glad you and noah found each other, like, i'm genuinely being serious. i've never seen anyone make my brother as happy as you've continously made him. he genuinely loves you more than anyone in the world..." damien trailed off in english since too much french had been spoken by him as he started to get emotional as madaline cooed as she hugged him tighter

"..awe, damien, thank you, darling! i feel the same way about him and he knows that!" madaline whispered back as damien nodded his head before giving a cheeky wink and handing the bride over to the second f1 driver, pierre

sweet sixteen today, she's looking like her mother a little more every day. one part woman, the other part girl, to perfume and make-up, from ribbons and curls, trying her wings out in a great big world. but i remember butterfly kisses after bedtime prayer, sticking little white flowers all up in her hair.

smiling at the young leclerc, pierre hugged her tightly as the two danced together as pierre whispered into her ear as a tear silently escaped from the corner of her eye.

"i remember your sixteenth birthday as if it was yesterday, mads. you were so excited but no one was more excited than i think me, max and your brothers *giggles*. charles was mortified, max, i think was completely shocked that you weren't a little kid anymore and, your parents were for sure shocked at how grown up you had suddenly become in what felt like a click of a finger..." pierre whispered as madaline giggled tearfully as pierre comforted her as he hugged her tightly

"...i remember too. at the time, i felt like i was on top of the world but honestly, i have no idea what business sixteen-year-old me had and who i thought i was in thinking that as a fair representation of me feeling on top of the world if today exists..." madaline smiled which made pierre also smile as he took a good look at all of her features - including the little white flowers all up in her hair

max then came up behind her and pierre to dance the next verse and instrumental of the song. that was because originally, lando and oscar were meant to come in to dance after pierre but before max. however due to time constraints for the first dance, that couldn't happen so lando, oscar and madaline agreed to have separate dances together after the first dance. hugging max, the two started to slow dance as the girl felt relaxed and content on her wedding day, which is all she ever wanted to feel on her special day.

you know how much i love you, daddy, but if you don't mind, i'm only going to kiss you on the cheek this time. oh, with all that i've done wrong, i must have done something right to deserve a hug every morning, and butterfly kisses at night

max hugged the girl tight as he led the two of them across the dance floor. even though max could usually hide his emotions well, today was not that day he could hold his emotions back. of course, in regards to missing a parent, whilst it was well known how involved his dad, jos, was in everything, he wasn't a loving dad in the same way herve leclerc was to all his children. max could very well relate to the heartbreak of missing out on a loving father but not on not having one at his future wedding. max and kelly were not yet married and hadn't really talked about it just yet since they didn't feel ready to be married even with kelly's daughter, penelope. and because of that, he had no idea about the pain that was surging through madaline's stomach and the grief that she was experiencing not just for her father not being there but also jules because this moment wouldn't have had to happen if herve and jules were both alive. all max wished for during today's ceremony was that madaline knew how proud, excited and happy her dad and jules were about their little mads getting married. because both herve and jules were so excited when she first introduced them to noah all those years ago. and then, when they all went through the collective heartbreak of losing herve and jules together, noah was there the entire time. missing out on their daughter and goddaughter getting married. 

"...mads, you know that your dad and jules loved you right?" max whispered, not caring that the guests could possibly hear the conversation since they were speaking english as madaline smiled

"of course, i do, maxie, why wouldn't i?" madaline chuckled softly as she didn't move her head from his shoulder as max smiled too

"i just...remember after herve and jules died...you rang me up asking if i could drive down? you told me that you weren't sure if you remembered just how much your dad and jules really loved you and you needed some reassurance. worried that arthur and charles would shut down and that lorenzo and pascale wouldn't understand, you rang me as your last resort and we spent the whole day together telling each other stories about herve and jules and all the ways in which they displayed their love and affection to the both of us. after crying together for god knows how long, you finally piped back up again and thanked me for reminding you through my own relationship with your dad and jules at just how much they loved you...and how much they knew that you love them a lot as well, even though they're no longer here with us," max reassured the bride as she tearfully smiled at him after lifting her head up from his shoulder

"thank you, maxie. that truly means a lot," madaline whispered as she then squealed out a giggle of shock after getting spun, only to be caught by daniel, who she just seemed to collapse into as they danced together for the fourth verse

she'll change her name today, she'll make a promise and i'll give her away, standing in the bedroom just staring at her. she asked me what i'm thinking, and i said, i'm not sure, i just feel like i'm losing my baby girl.

at this point, madaline had more than just a small, subtle tear dribbling down her cheek and daniel was close to bawling his eyes out as the two of them danced together. they both cried for many reasons, the main one being, just how much they missed jules. everyone forgetting that daniel was also jules' friend. as well as how much they also missed herve and only wished that the both of them were alive to see the wedding of their little girl - their little mads. so, daniel really knew all to well the grief and devastation that madaline had been feeling the entire day because he had been feeling it too. whilst he still had both of his parents, godspeed, he couldn't even imagine losing just one of them and it hurt him that that's exactly what the leclerc's were still living through. it still hurt and it was still something to be grieved, all these years later. and then finding out about the emotional breakdown madaline had the day before to charles about herve and jules not being alive to attend her wedding broke his heart into millions of tiny little pieces. because, he could only remember the day they found out that jules didn't survive his crash and the day they got the call from a hysterical charles that his dad died and how heartbreaking both of those events were at the time. 

dancing together, the two hugged each other tightly as they softly sang the lyrics of the song before daniel's time with madaline was up and, just like herve would have had to do, daniel had to give her away to her husband to finish the first dance. and, truthfully, it broke his heart a lot more than he thought it would have considering whilst he had basically seen madaline grow up, seeing her like a little sister, he had no idea he'd be this emotional over it.

then she leaned over... and gave me butterfly kisses, with her mother there sticking little white flowers all up in her hair. "walk me down the aisle, daddy, it's just about time." "does my wedding dress look pretty, daddy?" "daddy, don't cry."

however, it seemed as if that lyric got everyone at the wedding emotional as madaline and noah danced together as for nearly the first time during the whole first dance, she smiled wide and started to loudly giggle. the giggles were mainly due to her husband's dancing and how it seriously differed from al the others but, she still loved it nevertheless

she was so appreciative of what her brother (sorry enzo and arthur) and the rest of the groomsmen had done to make sure she'd still get somewhat of a father/daughter dance and didn't feel left out and, it worked. she felt so loved and she genuinely could feel as though her parents were right there with her watching it all the way from wherever it was they were. then, all of a sudden, the last verse of the song played when for the last time, noah gave his wife away to dance with her brother charles for the very last verse since charles and her two other brothers was the closest thing to their father at the wedding.

oh, with all that i've done wrong, i must have done something right to deserve a hug every morning, and butterfly kisses, a hug every morning, and butterfly kisses at night 

 "...papa et jules sont si fiers de toi. ils ont définitivement fait quelque chose de bien pour mériter ces câlins et ces baisers papillon, petits fous!" charles whispered as the song finished, therefore meaning that so did the dance dad and jules are so proud of you. they definitely did something right to deserve those hugs and butterfly kisses, little mads!

"merci char, eux aussi sont fiers de toi. et, aussi, tu as fait quelque chose de bien en prenant soin de moi toute ma vie. merci merci merci!" madaline whispered back as the siblings smiled at the applause as they sauntered off stage as the dj got the rest of the guests to the dance floor so she could find lando and oscar so they could have their dance together thank you char, they too are proud of you. and, also, you did something right in how you took care of me my whole life. thank you, thank you, thank you!

❘༻༺❘

liked by madalineleclerccastellano, charlesleclerc, lilyznemier, danielricciardo and 1,2k others

noahcastellano i am the luckiest man on this constellation to call you my wife, madaline. you are nothing short of brilliant, beautiful, kind and strong. you bring so much life, light and love into my life, doing it during a time we both needed it most. you are my sun, moon and the stars to my ever brightening sky. no one else is more perfect for me than you and i'll continue to love you for as long as i am able to. i love you so much darling, tu as tout mon cœurtu you have all of my heart🤍

view all comments

madalineleclerccastellano i'm the luckiest woman, noah! i love you my beautiful man and that french was perfect mon amour 🤍

charlesleclerc mes amours my loves🤍

charlesleclerc and yes, i may have cried from this post

lilyznemier beautiful  🤍

danielricciardo was the most perfect wedding, heidi and i loved it  🤍

fan1 i knew it! oh congratulations noah and madaline! 

fan4 noah, your caption, i can't! and your french at the end! he's learning!!!

liked by noahcastellano, charlesleclerc, arthurleclerc,  kellypiquet, francisca.cgomes, pierregasly and 999k others

madalineleclerccastellano pour toujours me semble parfait, je t'aime sans fin. i love you so much my forever love 🤍 forever seems perfect to me, i love you endlessly

view all comments

noahcastellano mon amour, you and your ways of making me cry. i love you so much baby

madalineleclerccastellano noahcastellano i love you, lover

charlesleclerc my little mads is all grown up

madalineleclerccastellano charlesleclerc love you cha-cha

arthurleclerc charles is crying rn

charlesleclerc arthurleclerc stfu before i smother you  madalineleclerccastellano arthurleclerc charlesleclerc arthur, stfu before we both smother you!

kellypiquet p's wondering why i'm crying then i showed her this post and she started getting teary-eyed as well! we love you, mads and noah 

madalineleclerccastellano kellypiquet aw stop it! that's too cute! we love you too

francisca.cgomes i can't even with this caption omg! sobbing right now!

madalineleclerccastellano francisca.cgomes love you girl

pierregasly it was an honour to dance with you and stand beside noah, my darling!

madalineleclerccastellano pierregasly likewise, pierre! thank you for being with us

maxverstappen1 magnifique you lovers

madalineleclerccastellano maxverstappen1 love you maxie

landonorris i'm trying so hard to not ugly cry right now and it's so hard!

madalineleclerccastellano landonorris is it all too much for little lando norris? landonorris madalineleclerccastellano maybe...

liked by noahcastellano, charlesleclerc and 99k others

madalineleclerccastellano me + p, noah's tears and the little details from the best day of my life 🤍

view all 21,000 comments

noahcastellano for those asking if i cried at all during the day, here's the proof! 

charlesleclerc beautiful little details 🤍

kellypiquet omg i didn't know that photo of you and p had been taken? you girls look so sweet 🤍

maxverstappen1 that photo of you and p is beautiful, mads 🤍

noahcastellano let's do it all over again mi amour 🤍

madalineleclerccastellano noahcastellano same time next weekend?

charlesleclerc madalineleclerccastellano noahcastellano I CAN'T UGLY CRY AGAIN NO!

landonorris noahcastellano madalineleclerccastellano charlesleclerc I AGREE I CAN'T CRY AGAIN

fin

since the original didn't actually have a social media au at the end like one usually would, i decided to do one so, hope you enjoyed it! i really love this one and i think the smau made it even better! also, once again, the dodgy google translate, don't sue me please and thank you, i can't speak french and i can barely speak english properly so, hence the google translate. 

©⠀amberjazmyn's original work. do not translate or steal any of my fics. 2024

[ronnie-quinn]

Big Drink

(CW: Alcohol and Mention of Underage Drinking (Since Crymini is 19))

CG!Husk and Regressor!Crymini 🍼

Plot: Crymini wants what she calls a big drink (alcohol), but Husk knows that’s not good for regressors.

Request by @nottapossum on AO3

Crymini was in a bad mood. She didn’t know why, but she was feeling really cranky. She tried everything to keep her mood in check. She even tried taking a nap, but that only made her crankier. She kept herself away from everyone so no one would have to deal with her attitude. She remembered how she was harshly reprimanded and sometimes punished for it by her parents and relatives on Earth. However, being alone with her feelings made the hyena feel a thousand times worse. It was starting to make her feel little, which she also hated. She didn’t want to feel little right now. She wanted to be big.

Husk, whom Crymini has a father-figurely relationship with, learned a lot about age regression from taking care of Angel whenever he regresses. He also knew about Crymini’s regression when she told him about it and has taken care of her a couple of times when her headspace dropped. The hyena knew that Husk would be understanding, but she didn’t want to him to interfere. However, she knew that being alone wasn’t doing her any good.

So, Crymini walked out of her room and trudged down to the main area of the hotel. She went over to the bar and plopped down on one of the stools.

“Bad day?” Husk asked as he set down a shot glass he was cleaning.

Crymini only sighed in response.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Crymini looked up at Husk with a sad look on her face.

“I’m doing okay, really,” the hyena lied.

“I can tell that you’re not. It’s okay to not be okay,” Husk said.

Crymini could feel her headspace slipping more and more by Husk’s words. She whined as she put her head on the table.

“I’m assuming you’re small right now,” Husk inquired.

“No, ’m big,” Crymini denied.

“You can’t really repress your regression, kiddo. It’s probably why you’re so grumpy.”

“‘m no little…”

“Okay, then.”

Husk continued cleaning shot glasses as Crymini sat silently at the counter with her head down. Her mind was telling her that Husk was right and it was okay to be little. Maybe it could help her feel better. However, her big, stubborn self didn’t want to. She was internally stuck.

“Can I have a drink, please?” Crymini asked after a few minutes.

“Sure thing,” Husk nodded.

Husk grabbed a red sippy cup from under the counter (where all the sippy cups, kids plates and utensils, and bottles sat). He then grabbed some strawberry milk from the mini fridge he had and poured it into the cup.

“I wan’ big drink,” Crymini muttered.

“You’re too young for alcohol. This is a lot better for you,” Husk said as Crymini began whining.

“I’m not little, I wan’ big drink.”

“You’re not old enough for alcohol. You can have strawberry milk instead.”

This caused Crymini to start crying, screaming, and kicking their legs, her headspace finally dropping.

Husk walked around the bar and over to where Crymini was sitting, kneeling down to her eye level.

“Kiddo, look at me. You wanted alcohol to drink. However, you’re not old enough to drink some,” Husk said as he gently cupped Crymini’s face, his tone being firm, yet calming at the same time. “You can cry about it, you’re allowed to have these feelings, but you can’t have alcohol. You can have strawberry milk instead.”

Crymini stopped screaming and kicking their legs, slightly calming down from Husk’s words. However, she couldn’t stop sobbing.

“Come on, let’s go calm down,” Husk said as he carried the wailing hyena over to the lounge area. Once there, he gently set Crymini down on a beanbag at a calm-down/time-in area Charlie had set up for the hotel littles.

Crymini curled up into a ball and continued crying. Husk got down to her eye level again.

“I have to go finish cleaning up the bar, okay? If you want to cry, that’s alright. If you want to do some of the activities in the time-in area, that’s fine, too. Just give yourself some time to feel what you need to feel and calm down,” Husk said as he stood up and walked back to the bar.

Crymini continued crying as Husk completed his task. He put the strawberry milk he prepared in the fridge in case she wanted it later.

A few minutes later, Husk finished cleaning the bar and went over to the time-in area to check on the hyena, who was still sitting in the beanbag. She sniffling and whimpering, her tantrum simmering down.

“You doing okay?” Husk asked.

“A little,” Crymini hiccuped.

“You ready to get up and have fun?”

Crymini shook her head.

“You need more time?” Husk asked as the hyena nodded her head. “Alright, let me know when you’re ready.”

Husk got up and walked away to let Crymini calm down completely.

Crymini found a stuffed bunny that was sitting in a stuffed animals basket next to her. She grabbed the bunny and held it tight, running her fingers through its soft fur.

Six minutes passed and the hyena finally calmed down. She got up with the bunny in her arms and walked over to the couch, where Husk and Angel (who was regressed) were sitting.

“Hey, kiddo, are you feeling better?” Husk asked as Crymini nodded. “That’s good. I like how you calmed down. Angel and I are gonna watch Bluey if you want to join us. You wanna watch Bluey?”

Crymini nodded again as she sat down next to Husk.

“Can I have the milk, please?” Crymini asked.

“Of course, you can. I’ll go get it right now.”

Husk stood up and walked over to the bar to get the strawberry milk the hyena denied earlier. He came back and handed the drink to Crymini.

“Thank you,” Crymini said as she began drinking.

“No problem, sweetie,” Husk said as he kissed Crymini’s forehead. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

[beardedmrbean]

Zoomer Huey, I tend to see people saying why Gen z don’t have sex much.

Holy

Fucking

Shits

These journalists surprisedly have WORSE self awareness than there boomer relatives

Here a hint https://x.com/swannmarcus89/status/1762582001507323991?s=46

And gender dynamics are…nuked in the fields they are surveying. Women and girls are told that all men are predators and misandry is left unchecked

Also, why Hollywood act surprised about the sex abuse?

We all heard about the casting coach, and how suspiciously people from working class backgrounds like Micheal Jackson (yes his dad had his music connections. But essentially mj was a slave and was arguably was the first black child star unless I’m missing someone) and Walt Disney (though not as bad) are painted as monsters while the actual monsters are protected for decades

I mean look at Judy Garland, she was a sweet person and she did help the LBGT in Hollywood and supported the civil rights movement

But her “crazy” behavior makes more sense because she was sexually abused at a extremely young age

And she not the only one, Shirley Temple, the boy who played at the first LA Dennis the Manis

Oh and the Peter Pan actor (a lot of people leave out the part where ALL of Hollywood basically says he can choke and die because he was “too” Disney)

But sorry about the Gen stuff, but the false rape accusations, maybe if you guys didn’t view men (especially white ones) the same way Nazis viewed the Jews while saying all the working class men were Weinstein.

My Gen would have more sex

Entertainment industry has been like that since the beginning of forever, probably less so when women weren't allowed to participate but still a thing I'm sure.

As for Judy Garland it was nice to see people come out swinging in her defense when someone tried to start shit over well

She was not in control of her carer, saying no was not an option for her with this, but dumbasses that can only think in terms of today's standards never think about that.

Jay North (Dennis the Menace) did ok, so did Shirley Temple, plenty of others not so much, more recently we can look at Drew Barrymore and RDJ who both had fairly public meltdowns and problems.

Drew was ruined since her first film was ET and Spielberg takes care of the kids on set, going beyond the legal requirements.

Bobby Driscol was the Peter Pan VA top of his Wiki article.

Robert "Bobby" Cletus Driscoll (March 3, 1937 – c. March 30, 1968) was an American actor who performed on film and television from 1943 to 1960. He starred in some of the Walt Disney Studios' best-known live-action pictures of that period: Song of the South (1946), So Dear to My Heart (1949), and Treasure Island (1950), as well as RKO's The Window (1949). He served as the animation model and provided the voice for the title role in Peter Pan (1953). He received an Academy Juvenile Award for outstanding performances in So Dear to My Heart and The Window.

He just fell into the child actor pit, where he wasn't "cute" anymore couldn't get gigs and couldn't adjust to not being in the spotlight, the way he went and nobody knowing is awful to think about still.

Jackie Coogan, on the other hand was a different story.

His parents sucked and as a result there's a series of laws named after him California's Coogan Law all about protecting the earnings of child actors from their parents. % goes into a trust iirc.

He ended up OK in the end though

The false accusation thing, #me too hurt women because #believe women was taken advantage of to such a degree that even this coming out to light

has still probably not cleared up for the trooper, and men are opting to not mentor women because of not wanting to risk a false accusation, everyone screams about how rare they are, to which I say so what, why should they assume the risk even if it's minor

Former VP Mike Pence came out and said he won't be alone with a woman that's not his wife in order to ensure that there is no possibility of someone making a claim of impropriety.

And he got this response

Why is anyone going to put their neck on the line when something like what he said is going to get this kind of response.

Maybe instead of crying about how rare false accusations are they should focus on shaming the people making them and coming up with solutions to keep them from happening.

You know instead of blaming the victims of the false accusations.

All this and so much more going on that isn't in this ask goes to the I don't blame people for not having as much sex, it's actually kinda nice too, fewer std's this way.

I went on a couple tangents, hope that's ok

[imakemywings]

A Silent Echo

Fandom: The Silmarillion

Characters: Fingolfin, Fingon

Summary: Hithlum reckons with the departure of the future Gondolindrim.

Length: 4.8k

AN: It's not really related, but I wanted to credit this art by Ylieke for getting me thinking about my many Fingolfin feelings again.

AO3 | Pillowfort | SWG

In the last few weeks under the gentle warmth of the spring sun, Fingolfin had done his due diligence. He had reviewed the manifests back as far as a decade. He had spoken to everyone who might have even an inkling of a hint of a clue, particularly those whose families had been split up. He had sent out scouts, and gone tracking himself in search of a reliable trail, and set Lalwen on the hunt. And with all his investigation, he returned again and again to the same conclusion: Aredhel and Turgon had planned this.

All over the sudden and stunning disappearance of two of his remaining three children and nearly a third of the population of Hithlum, Noldor and Sindar alike, were the fingerprints of Turgon’s meticulous mind. Not only had he planned it, Fingolfin felt grimly sure, but it had been years in the making. The evidence was there: the way Turgon had insinuated himself into the business of managing their supplies, the way he had been quietly but steadily obtaining approvals to move those who had gone with him to the further outskirts of their territory so they might eventually vanish more noiselessly, the connections he had been making among the lords—for indeed, several lords had gone with him, including Lord Ecthelion and Lord Egalmoth.

Not only had the process taken years in itself, but likely had been years in the planning before even the first of Turgon’s moves to start consolidating people and materials, which meant that it might have been over two decades his children had been planning to abscond in the night without so much as a whisper.

Beyond the windows that stood above Fingolfin’s desk, a light rain pattered, and Fingolfin’s mouth twitched in something too rictus to be called a smile. Turgon had done his work well—he was no Fëanor, but he must have made a remarkably convincing case.

While the conclusion was, in one sense, reassuring—whatever had happened after their departure, they had not been snatched from their beds by orcs of Morgoth—it was also what most troubled Fingolfin personally, bringing his mind back and back and back again to a single question: Why hadn’t they told him?

What was it that was so urgent, so momentous, so delicate that it had to be kept secret even from family?

Aredhel and Turgon had always been especially close. Fingolfin and Anairë had worried he would be sour about no longer being the youngest of their immediate family, but it was not so. He had received her kindly, and once she began to plump up and walk and babble, he had been delighted with her and taken it upon himself to be her mentor. While their interests diverged only more with age, the closeness had remained. If one of them had begun this scheme, Fingolfin was not surprised the other had become a part of it.

However, he imagined it left Fingon, sitting despondently across the desk from him, with many of the same questions that Fingolfin had: Why didn’t Turgon and Aredhel trust them anymore?

As to Fingon, Fingolfin felt relatively sure he knew the answer: they did not want their plans getting back to him, their father. Fingon had been condemned by his closeness to Fingolfin and his role as one of Fingolfin’s premiere advisors. It was not something likely to bring much comfort to him. Fingolfin wondered if they would have brought Argon into their scheme if he still lived.

“Father.” Blast. Once again, his eldest had been talking, and he had not been listening.

“Yes?” Fingolfin blinked and tried to look unruffled, a pantomime somewhat spoiled by the terrible shadows under his eyes.

“I asked if you wished me to send the scouts out again.”

Fingolfin’s fingers drummed arrhythmically on the desktop.

One would think that the traverse of so many people would have left a mark, and yet none of their scouts had thus far been able to say even which direction they had gone. Not only had been there no word from either Turgon or Aredhel, there had been none from any who might have noticed such a massive party on the move. It was as if they all simply turned to mist in their beds. Fingolfin would have been impressed, were he not so vexed (and still, he was impressed, for it was an incredible feat his children had managed).

“What is your mind?” he asked Fingon, to stall for time.

He did not wish to alarm anyone, nor publicize this event across Beleriand, but he had written a quiet note to Finrod. If anyone to date still knew the contents of Turgon’s mind, it was he, and Finrod had been an able partner since taking up leadership of what remained of his father’s people, and Fingolfin trusted him: he begged Finrod to keep his scouts’ eyes open for any hint of Turgon and Aredhel’s passing.

The blow of Finrod’s response made it clear to Fingolfin how much he had held out hope that Finrod would already know, and share, the location of his cousins and their people: Finrod claimed completely ignorance of any schemes or ideas of Turgon’s related to his departure. He promised to watch for them and ended with some cryptic encouragement which almost tempted Fingolfin to believe his nephew knew more than he was letting on, but he dropped it. Now more than ever, he needed to focus on the practical and not go chasing phantoms.

“Let us send them out once more,” Fingolfin declared, and Fingon’s tense look made him almost certain he had just been explaining why they should not do that.

Fingon sat silent and aggrieved across from him, the last of Fingolfin’s children, for the time being. Fingolfin noticed, looking at him then, his nose: it was his mother’s, always had been. Sometimes he made expressions which reminded Fingolfin so jarringly of Anairë it was a struggle not to show it, though on the whole it was Turgon who had taken most after her in looks.

“As you wish, Your Grace,” said Fingon.

Even Idril had gone with them, though this was not shocking. Turgon was not apt to leave her behind after everything they had been through already, nor was Idril inclined to allow herself to be abandoned. She had proven herself more than capable on the Ice, and therefore trustworthy with whatever her father had planned, but Fingolfin mourned the absence of her bright voice and determined courage, and of course, feared of what might become of them all.

Silence reigned over the room, testament to the questions they had already posed again and again, to the answers they could not determine and would not receive. Still Fingon lingered. When it had stretched well beyond the polite, Fingon rose from his seat, much as Fingolfin had seen the elder of Men do—as if there were a great invisible weight upon them. Fingolfin murmured some thanks to him and looked back down at the various outpost watch schedules he was reviewing—which were, frankly, a mess of crossed-out names and times and slapdash revisions and changes, normally things which would not even rise to the attention of the high king were he not seeking more who could even speculate as to where his children had gone—but he did not hear the door, and so he raised his head.

Fingon had paused in the doorway, his fingers on the frame, and looked back. “They may yet return,” he offered. His expression had given way to something both feebler and wilder, and Fingolfin felt keenly aware of what an unsteady place they were in now.

Fingolfin stared at him, trying to decide if Fingon felt it was he or his father who needed this quasi-delusional bit of encouragement.

“It is possible,” he allowed slowly.

Neither of them really needed to point out the obvious: But it was not likely. If they resurfaced, Fingolfin did not imagine it was with the intent of returning to their lives in Hithlum. Too much planning had gone into their flight for it to be a temporary state of affairs.

Rain tapped more insistently against the windows, and beyond the doors and walls of Fingolfin’s office, the clamor of the castle went on. Fingon’s dark complexion was half-subsumed into the low light of the hall beyond the door.

“I will gather the scouts,” Fingon said at last.

“Thank you,” Fingolfin replied.

The questions reeled on heedless of their audience’s comprehension or desire.

***

By the start of winter, there had been still no sign of the missing Elves. It was stupefying. People don’t just vanish into thin air! Fingolfin had raged to the ghost of his father in his bedroom on one furious, exhausted night with too many empty wine bottles foresting the table. They had to go SOMEWHERE! And how was it that no one had seen them? Had they decided to delve into the Earth like Dwarves and were living somewhere right under his feet? Had everyone else in Middle-earth gone temporarily blind?

Aredhel had already been known to vanish for weeks on end without word before or after; Fingolfin now felt doubtless that many—perhaps even most—of these excursions had served this project with Turgon. Was it she who had chosen their route from Hithlum? She who had helped thousands disappear overnight without a sound or a trace? Had Oromë returned to guide her? Did they have some favor of the Valar which Fingolfin had lost when he refused to return to Tirion?

And again, the question continued to torture him, through day, through night, pounding in the back of his mind no matter what else he occupied himself with: Why hadn’t they told him?

What had he done that two of his children had determined they could not permit their own father to know of their plans? At his most optimistic, he could only assume that whatever the project was, it felt so important to both of them that they could not risk their king’s disapproval: for having asked and been denied, they would be unable to enact their schemes even in secret. Most often, he flagellated himself asking when he had lost their trust, replaying their interactions over and over again in his mind, every one that he remembered since their bloody departure from Eldamar, asking when they had decided he could no longer be relied on to support them.

It was true that balancing the various views and opinions of his children and his nephews and niece since their arrival in Beleriand had been difficult—but after their long trek across the Ice, he had thought of them as a team. Disagree they might, but still they all worked towards a common goal: the defeat of Morgoth and the survival and flourishing of the Elves in Middle-earth.

When had Turgon and Aredhel become convinced they must travel their own path, apart from the rest?

He had been tempted to call Finrod to Hithlum to interrogate him, but thus far he had quelled that urge. He had to take his nephew at face value, and Finrod’s grief at the dead silence from his lifelong friend rang true (Fingolfin remembered the sight of them laying out in the yard with berry-stained hands and faces, awkward adolescent limbs sprawling as they gestured up to the clouds, their hair, Finrod’s gold and Turgon’s coal tangled together on the ground). If he began questioning them all now, trusting none of them to tell him the truth, he might as well lay down at the foot of Thangorodrim now and wait for Morgoth’s boot.

“Father!” Fingon’s voice cut through Fingolfin’s whirling thoughts and his son’s face swam back into focus, standing rigidly before his desk. Despite some of the best of Fingon’s wishes, his feelings were almost always painfully plain to see on his face. Presently, there was a tightness to his mouth and a glassiness to his eyes that belied any sense of calm professionalism he wished to project. “Shall I go?” he asked, and Fingolfin was somewhat taken aback with the thread of bitterness in his voice.

“Go?” he echoed, blinking.

“It is apparent that I have nothing which currently interests you.”

“That isn’t so, I asked you here.”

“Yet you do not listen to me,” Fingon cried. “So it has been since—you do not listen to me, Father!” He clasped his hands tightly behind his back and hung his head; there was a delicateness, a rawness in him Fingolfin remembered from those first weeks on the Ice, when Fingon could not sleep for the nightmares of blood staining his hands. Did he wonder if his actions in Alqualondë had warranted Turgon and Aredhel choosing not to speak to him of this?

Fingon had always been well-tempered, even-keeled, far more so than his siblings. Reckless, certainly, but he came by that honestly, Fingolfin was aware with rue, and not from Anairë’s side of the family. He so rarely lost his temper; Fingolfin had been relieved in years long past that he could mostly count on Fingon not to rise to the taunting of siblings or cousins. But that meant that when he did lose it, it behooved Fingolfin his father to mind it.

Fingolfin exhaled slowly and bowed his head, pressing the heels of his hands against his forehead.

“I find it difficult to listen to anything, presently, outside of my own thoughts,” he admitted. Perhaps this was too vulnerable a thought to share with a son, yet it was all he could offer in explanation, and he felt Fingon deserved the truth, even if he might scorn it. Had Fingon not yet been by his father’s side through trials enough that he no longer nurtured the youthful vision of him as a force invincible? He must be quite aware already that he was not infallible!

Fingon said nothing, shifting from foot to foot, so Fingolfin raised his head and said, “Do you have time to walk with me?”

At this, Fingon nodded.

Fingolfin left his desk, and went with Fingon up many dusty cobwebbed stairs to the nearest tower, that they might look out over the land and speak with small chance of being overheard. The breeze seemed to clear some of the cluttered thoughts from Fingolfin’s mind, and he closed his eyes, feeling its fingers run through his hair, thinking somewhat longingly of Rochallor in the stables below. Perhaps there was time for that later—perhaps a ride would help him think more clearly. (A lifetime ago they had gone together—Fingolfin and Anairë and Lalwen and the children, with Aredhel hooting and hollering at Lalwen’s antics and Argon braiding flowers into the mane of his mount.)

Fingon approached him at the crenellations, folding his arms, leaning his back against the stone. The light filtering through the thin cloud cover turned his brown eyes golden, though all the wind could manage with his thick braids was to stir a few errant wisps of hair against his cheek. His broad shoulders were hunched; Fingolfin observed him a moment and thought with surprise that Fingon seemed to expect he had been taken here for a private scolding. While he was still gathering his thoughts on how best to address that notion, Fingon confirmed it.

“You should release me from your counsel,” he said in the tone of one who has long considered a proposal before speaking it. His tone was flat, but beneath it lurked the stormy discontent which had plagued him since his siblings’ departure.

“You no longer wish to be an advisor?” Fingolfin asked. “You are the crown prince of this land.”

“You should release me,” Fingon repeated, staring down at the floor. “I have served you poorly, and it is apparent I have lost your trust.”

Fingolfin knew that part of parenthood was handling the surprises of one’s children—for they would always find ways to surprise you, for good and for ill, no matter how well you believed you knew them. Yet he found himself now fumbling in a way he had not since Fingon was far younger, and he could not say if it was the shock of the moment, or the chaos of his own mind of late.

“That is not so—”

“Is it not!” Fingon demanded, raising his voice to near a shout, snapping his gaze up to his father’s, his fingers digging into his arms. His lips were pursed; his eyelashes quivered; and Fingolfin’s hands twitched to take his child into his arms, but he held back. Longing pierced him like an arrow for the days when Fingon wept over scraped knees and broken toys, and Fingolfin could dry his eyes with hugs and kisses and promises of sweet bean buns.

“I should have known,” Fingon elaborated, again turning his face from Fingolfin. “I should have known—”

“You could not have—” But Fingon was a man grown, and had been for hundreds of years, and did not want his concerns dismissed by the coddling of his father.

“I could have!” Fingon insisted, his voice turning harsh once more. “If they had—I put my signature on the movements of supplies. I gave Turgon the jobs which granted him access to the things he took and trusted in his reports. I placed those requests for troop movements and trainings and weapons requisitions on your desk from both of them, which you approved.” A tremor went through him. “I went hunting with Aredhel! Perhaps I was there when she was plotting their exit!” Fingon boxed himself in his with his arms as if trying to compress himself. “I should have known they were planning something,” he said at last, bitterness dripping from his voice, set in the line of his neck as he hung his head.

Fingolfin remembered with childish vagueness his days of trailing after Fëanor, who had always seemed an adult to him, and bawling when he had the door shut in his face, and failing utterly to understand why Fëanor despised him (and also, the joy of those moments when Fëanor deigned to explain some project of his, or allowed Fingolfin to play with rejected models). With more clarity he remembered Fëanor and Findis’ hateful sniping and his mother’s harried efforts to balance two halves of a family which seemed to mix like oil and water, and his father’s dismay when the family dinner table once again turned into a catty dueling ring.

Fingolfin had been adamant with Anairë during their courtship that he did not wish his children to have such experiences. When the four of them had grown up close not only with each other, but also with the children of his brother Finarfin whom they counted in truth as siblings rather than cousins, Fingolfin could hardly contain his contentment. They had quarreled as children do and sometimes exchanged ugly words, but they also loved one another, openly and without rancor, and so Fingolfin had felt satisfied that he had put the troubles of his own family to rest.

Yet here was Fingon, alone, and utterly unable to understand how his siblings had left him behind.

Time is a circle, Fingolfin thought. He sighed, and looked out at the horizon again.

“Whatever they have done, I am sure they thought at the time it was the best course of action…”

“Is that meant to help?” Fingon snapped, glaring. “Their theoretical good intentions mean little when they have left us in such a position! A third of our people they have stolen, with supplies to match! How could they do this to us? How could they be so…so childish? So selfish? Merely for being asked to weather a few decisions with which they disagreed!”

Fingolfin had to bite his tongue to stop himself from leaping down Fingon’s throat to ask what decisions he viewed as the reasons Aredhel and Turgon had left.

He sighed once more and pushed down the urge to rub his temples. Lalwen had been relentless in the search for their missing people, but eventually, Fingolfin could no longer justify such excursions. They were scrambling to pick up the slack left by the departed. Fingon had helped his aunt in these endeavors; Fingolfin knew he had been trying to do as many of his siblings’ abandoned jobs as he could, but it was not sustainable.

Lalwen told him he needed to sleep and eat more; Fingolfin left many plates of food she brought to his office to tempt him untouched, or passed them off to one of his guards or couriers. It was unfair, he thought, that she should have to support him through the loss of three children now, and also his granddaughter. She remained optimistic they were alive, and if she was lying for his benefit, Fingolfin didn’t really want to know.

“Doubtless they had the interests of our people at heart and…” Fingolfin trailed off wearily, finding the end of that sentence did not reveal itself as he had hoped.

“Even when they have done this to us, still you speak in their defense,” said Fingon, scowling. It seemed an unnatural expression on his amiable face.

“As I spoke in yours, when you were convinced we must reconcile all the Noldor,” Fingolfin reminded him. “Your siblings were staunchly against it, if you recall.”

“But I was…” Fingon’s jaw worked as he contemplated some way in which this situation was different from that one. “I did not harm our cause.”

“In the end, no, and I believed then as now that you were right, but think you that Turgon and Aredhel were not genuine in believing that allying with Fëanor’s people would harm us?”

“If you had chosen otherwise,” said Fingon, “I would have heeded it. If I had done as I did and still you saw no path to reconciliation with them, I would never have undermined your efforts this way. I would not have…” His eyes flicked away, fingers squeezing into his arms until his knuckles went pale.

“It is my fault they kept this from you,” said Fingolfin then after a solid pause, for it seemed necessary to acknowledge this. “I have relied on you a great deal here, and certain am I that they believed I would learn of this if you knew.”

Fingon stared away from him. Fingolfin had him, albeit unintentionally, between a rock and a hard place. To insist his siblings should have trusted him to keep their secret was to admit he would have joined them in plotting behind their father’s back. To assert that he would never have kept such a thing from his king was to confess his siblings were right to mistrust him.

He wished he could call in Aegnor and Angrod, summon them to Hithlum for aid. But they were lords now in their own right, and with lands which abutted the Enemy, and they could not be spared merely to cheer Fingon. Perhaps he might send Fingon east—though, under the circumstances, he might not appreciate being sent away from home.

“Do you believe truly that I blame you that we did not anticipate this?” Fingolfin asked quietly as a fresh gust of wind whistled over them.

Again, Fingon’s shoulders hunched.

“You should,” he muttered. “What kind of obtuse fool could be blindsided by such a thing?”

“Myself, for one,” Fingolfin said dryly. Fingon winced.

“It is not the same, Father, we were…they…”

“One may share with a sibling what one does not with a parent,” Fingolfin agreed. Fingon gave a small nod, and then covered his eyes with his hands.

“We may only speculate now on their goals and motives and feelings,” said Fingolfin, shifting nearer to his son, so they were almost shoulder-to-shoulder. “And I understand more than you may think how tempting it is to believe the worst, to believe they secretly distrusted us, that they departed in anger and resentment, that they had lost faith in our cause entirely. But this you must remember, Fingon: They loved us, and they were good. I cannot believe, if I am honest, that they would have done this if they had seen any other way around it. I may disagree on the point, but I believe their hearts are genuine. I must believe they have some plan which serves the cause of Elfinesse and they truly think this is the best way for them to render aid.”

“By deceiving us?” Fingon cried. “By stealing from us? By betraying us?”

“They have not betrayed us,” said Fingolfin firmly. “They have weakened our position here, that is true—but they would never betray us to the Enemy.”

“How can you simply believe such things?”

“Not without effort,” Fingolfin admitted. “But the matter in the end is practical as much as sentimental: It serves us not at all to wallow in the thought that they wished to hurt us. Whatever the intentions of your brother and sister, we must keep our minds focused on the goal here, to your point earlier in my office. We can only work with what we have, and now we have no longer Aredhel and Turgon.” It seemed to burn his throat to say it, but it had to be said. Both of them needed to acknowledge this.

Fingon let out an awkward, choked huff, and he wept.

Now Fingolfin gathered his son against him, and Fingon put his face against his father’s shoulder and cried for the loss of his two remaining siblings. There were no more words, for what words could be put to such grief? What words could ever suffice for the loss of a sibling? (For Fingon, who had effectively now lost three?) Fingolfin remembered standing before Fëanor’s memorial, built by his sons, and finding that after so long of considering what he would say when he saw his older brother again, that there were simply no words. He tried to imagine a world in which he was the last one of them—in which Findis, Lalwen, and Finarfin were also gone—in which they had chosen to leave him behind (he could not now think on what Findis and Finarfin thought about himself, Fëanor, and Lalwen leaving for Middle-earth)—and decided it was impossible for him to truly understand Fingon’s pain.

“Forgive me, Father,” Fingon whispered. “I shall do better.”

“No,” Fingolfin replied, tightening his hold. “You have done as well as anyone could, and I am proud of you, and I am grateful to have you here still.” If Fingon had gone with them—if all three of Fingolfin’s living children had vanished without a trace—he did not know how he could have gone on at all. “I will need—have needed—your help in finding our footing once more. I have not been as present as I ought to be, and that is my fault as king, and I must ask your forgiveness for it.”

He drew back to look at Fingon’s face, though his son averted his teary eyes, and clasped his arms.

“It is long past time I reassigned their duties. You have carried too much these months, and for this also I must beg forgiveness. You were right: I have not been listening as I should. And as my advisor, I am grateful you said so.” He let out a long breath, briefly closing his eyes. “I did not wish to admit that it was necessary,” he confessed softly, unsurprisingly. “But this has been unfair to you, and had you not carried this burden so silently without complaint, I should never have let it go so long.” Fingon’s lower lip quivered, but he raised his eyes to look into his father’s gaze, his dark lashes clumped together from his tears. Fingolfin waited until he was sure he had his full attention before he spoke again, this time in the tongue of Tirion: “I am sorry, Findekáno.”

Fingon nodded, and swallowed, and then put his arms around Fingolfin and hugged him.

“I forgive you, Father,” he said, and for only a flash of a moment, Fingolfin thought of words laid aside for Finwë’s return to Tirion, a return which had never come. Even then, Fingolfin remained unsure what those words would have been, in the end.

Fingolfin embraced him again, and they remained there on the tower until Fingon’s eyes were no longer flushed red, and then Fingolfin called his advisors to an emergency meeting to discuss how to reallocate tasks and tools in light of the disappearance and presumptive non-return of Prince Turgon and Princess Aredhel.

***

Years on from those troubled days in Hithlum, in absence of his mother and father, in absence of his aunts and uncles, in absence of his brothers and sister, in absence of his beloved cousins, nearly all of whom were dead and gone, Fingon took up the crown of the high king of the Noldor in Middle-earth, and never, not even at the moment of his death, did he feel more alone.

[spork-supremacy]

⭐ for the commentary game - dealer's choice!!

okay I know I’ve already told you about my big fic, The blood isn’t what counts, but want to describe and explain my ye ol’ pirate age sections.

granted this will probably jump between chapters because I can’t help myself so spoilers if you care much

The fic starts off with a scene from the destiny’s bounty many years ago, back in the pirate age of Ninjago.

this scene wasn’t originally going to be added in this way but I wanted to pad out my word count as I set a standard of around 4,000 words per chapter. I thought it would also be a cool introduction.

eventually I kept adding more scenes like this throughout the start my chapters, each somewhat helping to foreshadow part of the chapters

the first one was about setting up the crew of the bounty and establishing the status of the misfortune’s keep. But the big part about it is the ending where we pan to captain Soto but when lightning from the storm flashes behind him he doesn’t look quite like himself. This looked better in my head but I tried my best to make it seem like Soto looked very much like Jay, with the big twist of the chapter of course being that through cliff, they are related. I also had fun with visually building Soto because I started the story early into his captaincy, being relatively young, around the age of 26.

In the scene for the second chapter it’s being implied that Soto is hiding something from his crew, a deal he made with the Keep.

much like him in this chapter Jay is hiding a lot from his team, particularly his intentions for the journey. Sure what Wu said about finding the physical elemental source of lightning used by the fsm to hold it once he passed and fixing it is why they’re going. But also he knows of a prophecy that might be about him and who is he to say no to something that can help find him a purpose or better identity beyond being the funny man.

In the third the crew travel to the city of stixs for a supply run, considering it’s a giant port I thought to make it the go to pirate hangout place. It’s revealed that Soto did have deal with the Keep and he attends a meeting he has with Delara, head of trade and relationships for the Keep. (I chose this role for her because of the amount of times it was implied she was good with handling the crew so probably a people person, but a tough one)

Soto stole a map for them in order to gain protection from well, them. This map is of course the one found by Jay in chapter 2. But the important bit is the end where he hands a bottle of scotch to Delara remarking how it’s Nadakhan’s favourite liquor. Later on in the chapter everyone takes a surprise detour to stix after the autopilot malfunctioned and the bounty did it’s thing if you know what I mean (it’s busting an engine, not a full explosion but close enough)

Jay manages to find the exact bar and pick up a bottle of scotch (the same one from the scene) to take back, it was practically sealed tight and there was no expiration date, he’ll just take it to Kai and ask if it’s good. What he doesn’t notice though is that the contents of the bottle are slightly green. *wink wink, nudge nudge*

oh and it’s revealed all these scenes are dreams that Jay have been having over the past couple of months, well the first one was. Once he started going down the right path they started to progress in story.

man I love these pirate sections so much, all the stuff in canon was not enough but allowed me a lot of wiggle room for story telling.

[sewerpalette]

Subnautica headcanon designs part 1. I might make another one with Jochi, Hollister and a couple others. I’m not entirely happy with it but I’m not getting it to look any better so might aswell post it!

Second image was the thumbnail, as you can see, I didn’t capture a lot of likenesses and also decided to scrap doing ryley, but the shading was kinda fun so I guess there’s that. Seems like this page is going to become a dedicated subnautica brainrot page now, I think my OC stuff should stay on insta.

I’m not very happy with how the proportions turned out, I’m sorry lol. But I guess it’s some progress from the usual. I originally wanted to give danby black hair too but I realised that that’s just kinda what I default to and there are already so many characters with dark hair so I changed it to a blonde tone. I also tried to create more variety in face shapes but I’m still relatively new to that so I’m sorry if everybody looks kinda same-y or proportionally off.

Danby and Avery were done on the first day, then I drew Ozzy, then drew Yu on another day with much demotivating wich is why she kinda looks different to the others, then drew Keen and overhauled Yu again.

The artstyle was inspired by the Subnautica character concept art of Ryley!

(Headcanon time)

To be honest, I’d imagine most of them know each other (except for Avery ofcourse), I’d like to believe that Danby doesn’t usually talk to people unless it’s for his job, but is still generally known and liked by the others, he finds his job boring but believes it’d be stupid to stop after studying for so many years.

I think they’d all be around 25-60 in age, with danby maybe being the youngest with about 28-31 years of age, matching with ryley who I’d imagine is around the same age.

I think Yu would be very goal oriented, but also trying to find solutions with wich everyone involved would be happy, wich mean that she’d know a bit about everyone, wich is why she feels so attached to the crew and wanted to disobey orders to try and save them after the crash.

I think Keen would really thrive in his job, similar to Yu, but be a lot more reliant on orders, somebody who likes to follow them more than to give them. He puts much trust into his captain and any other sort of authority figure above him, whilst feeling maybe a little too responsible for those under his command.

I believe Ozzy would be a very talkative person, like Yu he knows everybody a little, and everybody knows him. Except for ryley, who at this point has become kind of an outsider for just how much he tries to fit in with everyone else. Most people feel indifferent towards him.

I don’t think avery would be fond of being the captain of a ship, I don’t think he’d mind that much but I think a lot of the legal stuff he has to handle because of it would probably be really frustrating in the long run. He enjoys to talk to people though, and tries to help people in need if alterra doesn’t prevent him from doing so.

[matan4il]

I'm so happy some of the hostages are being returned. I was honestly starting to worry that maybe none were left alive, were smuggled out, or couldn't even be found from Hamas themselves. So, small blessings.

What I loathe is people trying to pretend Hamas is virtuous for this or that 5 prisoners for everyone Israel is even morally equivalent. It doesn't erase every person coming home lost someone brutally before being taken and probably left another person behind as a hostage. It will never erase how they tortured innocent civilians. These people coming home have probably been brutalized for 50 days. The trauma they will carry around breaks my heart. So many families will never be whole again. Pile on the people being returned to Gaza were actual terrorists who tried to or killed Israel's.

Every family has been forever changed in violence they never asked for. But I am grateful for who comes home. Seeing the reunion videos makes me happy. It just doesn't change my opinion of the people who did it. It's actually worse when I see them cheering and jeering at the red cross recovering them.

However.. I can't leave you without some dark humor. My neighbor put up Ceasefire sign with a death toll count at 10,000. When I was walking by, I asked her where she got that number because it's clearly wrong. I'd be happy to explain. She walked in and slammed the door. At least I'm more popular in the neighborhood and have a Ring so she can't egg my house. Although I am considering putting up more Israel flags just to start a sign war. Petty, yes, but if it annoys them, priceless!!!!

As always, I hope you and your family are staying safe. Lots of love!!!! Hopefully, researching for the museum is a nice distraction. Sending prayers, you're feeling OK!!

Hi darling! <333

Oh, I was sure that Hamas would keep at least some alive. Living hostages are worth more than dead ones. At this point, Hamas NEEDS this break in the fighting, and for sure they knew their strongest leverage over Israel would be hostages, so... what worries me is that we don't know how many are live. Fifty hostages is less than a quarter from the people kidnapped, and Hamas has not yet produced a current proof of life for the rest. But yes, I don't think it's possible to see the family reunions and not be moved! (well... so long as you're not de-humanizing Israelis, that is)

The people who have to be told that Hamas isn't humane, a terrorist organization that has beheaded human beings, including babies, raped women of all ages to the point where their bones broke, amputated kids, kidnapped a 9 months old, murdered Holocaust survivors... those people are beyond hope. Still, if you look at a recent released Hamas vid, meant to depict its terrorists as "humane," you can actually hear them instructing the hostage to "keep waving." That says it all.

I'm also gonna mention that one of the hostages released by Hamas tonight had to be rushed into surgery, and her life is in danger even after that.

And that's on top of everything else you mentioned. Yes, every single one of the hostages has either lost a relative, or still has family or friends in captivity, or had their house physically destroyed, and they were all changed forever by 7 weeks of captivity underground, in terror tunnels. I was listening to the testimony of an Israeli kid who was freed by Israel in 1976 from Entebbe, after just one week as a hostage, without being separated from his family, without losing anyone, while they weren't held underground, and he still said he was never the same person again. I can't understand anyone who ignores that. Then again, I also can't comprehend how a human being can look at a poster begging for the release of a baby, but some did exactly that, and proudly.

LOL I love that, thank you for sharing! And NGL, I would love for more Israeli flags on display. Even just the fact that it humanizes Israelis means so much! Thank you for being such an incredible ally, from me, and I'm sure from others reason this, too! Sending you all the love and good wishes in the world, you absolute ray of light! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[absolutely-normal-about-x]

I know this is millennia in the future but I'm a sucker for time shenanigans.

What do you think Dr. Light and the rest of the classic crew would feel about X and his family?

Bro as someone who’s also into timeline shenanigans this is gonna be fun!

To note this is Non canon but I will be talking about it since I’m silly >:3

So basically it would be a very interesting scenario where either Classic or Legends gangs end up in either timelines. But for simplicity sake let’s just say through time travel shenanigans that caused Classic gang to end up in the Legends timeline for a short time and encounter X’s Family by accident.

Dr Light would have so many questions about this Era especially seeing X. He recognizes him regardless of his grizzled appearance, and role that he has. He’s still his youngest child in his eyes. My goodness look how he grew! Even if it took thousands of years to get there!

He’s also a father for goodness sake!! Taking care of 5 rambunctious children, who are all different in personality, appearance, age, experiences etc…they are so diverse yet so close with each other! He loves all of his grandchildren to bits! Each and one of them are so unique in their own right! (Despite the MASSIVE time gap in creation dates between the Guardians and Volnutt). But they still have their Father’s traits in their own unique ways. He’ll just just spoil his grandchildren and bond with them.

But notice that Volnutt is also this Era’s Megaman…but thankfully the boy has his family and friends to guide him like Rock has…it’s such an interesting coincidence that his youngest Grandson was named after his other son.

(It would be a silly tradition to name their youngest sons after their fathers aksnskn)

He’s just so proud of X for how far he has come, having to endure so many years of hardships to get there. Basically Dr light is just very happy to finally meet his son and his very colorful children.

Megaman/Rock’s feelings about his little brother’s family were met with enthusiasm and curiosity. He thinks they are the freakin coolest!! Like Dr.Light, he’s proud of his Little brother. He absolutely thinks his nieces and nephews are the coolest!! Absolutely want to get to know them better, especially Volnutt. He spends time with them and definitely is that fun uncle that tries to be a good influence to them.

Roll really said “FINALLY I'M NOT THE ONLY GIRL ANYMORE!!!!!”

Basically she also would love her baby bro’s Fam a lot. They would be very close and have all sorts of fun!! Especially fefnir’s gardening hobby is a constant delight for her. She appreciates X for teaching his kids how to do house work! She and Leviathan often get cute outfits together. Absolutely Taught the rugrats the power of THE BROOM.

Blues like everyone else is proud of X and is so happy to see him and his children. Unlike his younger siblings Blues would be a cool uncle who would get the kids to loving trouble. He’s a great influence for them yeah nothing goes even wrong- Honestly Phantom and Harpuia reminds him a lot of Tangle and Beat. He definitely calls Harpuia “Harpy bird” (For his fucking dismay).

But it’s also really fucking hilarious since Rock, Roll and Blues despite that they are older then X and his fam they are child models so the contrasts with with their brother and his kids. So trips to watch Movies and antics would make the ultimate wacky shenanigans galore!! Especially the reactions they would be priceless (Oh Blues is absolutely taking advantage of this).

X and his Kids would be swarmed by their robot master relatives. Especially volnutt HE HAS SO MANY UNCLES AND AUNTS LIKE DANG-

But yeah the classic gang absolutely loves X and his family very dearly, the same thing goes with them too. After the kids get over the shock of how ridiculously large loving robot family.

[laxyaklovesloz]

DannyMay 2024 #06 Immortal AU

Warning: This one is sad. Also, TW: Suicide.

Jazz was the last of his friends and family to go. Figures that she would have the longest life. She was always so healthy. Tucker had died relatively young due to his poor eating habits. Sam wasn’t too far ahead of Jazz. She was always the fittest out of his friends. Jacob died in a plane crash, living his life to the fullest. Danny’s parents both died of old age close together.

At least Danny had Chelsea. The two of them had stopped aging at around 25. They realized maybe ten years later that something was different with them, more than just them being halfas. They weren’t getting as many wrinkles. They had more energy than their peers. Not only had their ghost half stopped aging, but their human half had as well.

Danny had a breakdown when he realized what that meant. He would live to see his family and friends die, one by one. And he would never join them in death.

Chelsea’s worldview was shattered. All her life, she clung to the idea that she would see her family again after death, that there was something more. Now that wouldn’t happen for her.

Their friends and family tried to comfort them, but the sadness would always remain. Danny and Chelsea put up a good front while their families lived. They pushed the sadness away for the time. They each had kids, and their kids had kids, and they had their own kids.

But finally, one day, Chelsea had enough.

“Danny, I can’t keep living like this,” she confessed to him in private. “Everyone’s gone, our grandkids are grown. Humans aren’t meant to live this long.”

“What are you saying?” Danny asked, a lump in his throat. He thought he knew where she was going with this.

Chelsea couldn’t look at him. “I’m saying… I want to move on. I’m… I’m going to try killing myself. I don’t know if it’ll work, but I have to try.”

Danny clutched at her hands. He hated what she was saying. “You-you can’t! The Ghost Zone needs you. I need you!”

Tears formed in Chelsea’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Danny. I’m not needed here, no matter what you say. I still believe there’s life after death and not just ghostly life. I want… I want to see my parents again.”

“I know how you feel,” Danny started, but Chelsea roared at him.

“No, you don’t! Or else you’d be saying the same thing.” She calmed herself down, though the tears still splashed on Danny’s hands. “You’ll still have all of the other ghosts. You don’t need me. I’m ready to move on.”

With this repeated statement, the tears stopped. She looked him right in the eyes. Danny stared back at her, trying to comprehend. He could see there was no fighting her. She had made her decision.

It was Danny’s turn to look down. “Alright,” he said sadly. “I respect your decision. When will you do it?”

“After I say goodbye to everyone,” Chelsea answered. She lifted his chin and smiled. “It will be okay. We’ll meet again someday… if you ever decide to join me.”

Danny felt tears in his own eyes. He kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll hold you to that.”

≈∞≈

They made a ceremony out of Chelsea’s death in the Ghost Zone. Many ghosts were curious to see what would happen if a halfa’s human half died, but most were there to support her. She didn’t want to make a big fuss, but she couldn’t say no when people asked to witness. Word spread. She couldn’t help that.

Danny stood with Chelsea in the center of attention. He held her hands again, trying to comfort himself as much as her.

“Ready?” he asked quietly.

Chelsea nodded with a smile. “I’ll see you on the other side, assuming this works.”

Danny half hoped it didn’t work but said, “I’m sure it will.”

“Desiree,” Chelsea said aloud, “I wish to die peacefully and without pain.”

“So you wish it, so it shall be,” Desiree answered solemnly.

Chelsea smiled one last time at Danny, then her eyes closed and she collapsed. Danny’s core screamed for him to help her. This was almost worse than anyone else he had seen die. He knelt and took her in his arms, weeping freely. He didn’t care that all of his ghost friends saw him cry. Many of them were also crying.

Then something changed. Chelsea’s ghost form was floating up, out of her dead body. Her eyes were closed at first, but then she opened them. She stared around at everyone, and then at Danny, who still held her body. She looked down at her own body and tears formed in her eyes.

“It didn’t work,” she sobbed. “I’m not home.”

Danny dropped her dead body and hugged her ghost one. “You are home. We’ll always be here for you.”

Chelsea cried into his shoulder, but Danny’s heart soared. He wouldn’t be alone after all.

[komajordan]

Media I’ve Experienced in 2024 (February) SPOILERS

Same as last time, in order of when completed on a scale of 1-10

Clone High (2023) Season 2 (8/10)-Like a lot of people I wasn’t really on board with Clone High’s revival. If you want to know my thoughts it’s honestly a 6, it has some good jokes but it’s weighed down by more forced and obvious comedy. Season 2 however really surprised me, there were a ton of jokes I found funny, brought in some fanservice like Skunky Poo coming back and Cloney Island being fully realized, and a ton of the character chemistry works.

Bumblebee (10/10)-I never thought a solo Bumblebee movie with humans would work but it turned out to be pretty heartwarming and emotional. Charlie and Bee’s relationship felt real along with some fun action scenes.

Clone High (2002) (9/10)-I tried to watch the original Clone High back in 2022 but my memory got clouded by a lot of personal stuff at the time. So checking the original out felt like a reminder of what the show used to be. The bait-and-switch comedy is top notch, Gandhi’s prescience will always be welcome, and by God the emotional soundtrack makes a ton of scenes even funnier.

Hello Kitty:Roller Rescue (5/10)-Pretty basic beat-em-up, cute soundtrack and visuals, nothing too special. I’m probably just spoiled from playing Island Adventure.

The LEGO Movie (Rewatch) (10/10)-I watched this movie on the exact day of its 10 Year Anniversary and by God, this movie is as funny as I remember it. And after I just watched Phil Lord and Christopher Miller’s other work in Clone High I can definitely tell I was spoiled from their comedy from age 8 too. The animation still looks great and I can basically recite the script from how many times I watched it in the past. While yes I’m biased, it’s a very sentimental type of bias that I can never let go.

The Lost Boys (7/10)-The Lost Boys is an old but fun movie. It captures the feeling of adolescent summer fun on the boardwalk along with the relatively small sense of horror of the vampire cult.

Us (9/10)-Back on Halloween last year I watched Get Out and I thought it was good as a psychological thriller but not really scary to me. Us on the other hand was a step-up in my opinion. The doppelgänger plot is really cool and the way the tethered family goes around terrorizing everyone felt thrilling. And man the twist, I’m not gonna spoil it but that twist felt like a complete game changer.

The Marvels (2/10)-This movie is not good but not the worst MCU movie ever. Personally I liked the interactions between Kamala, Monica, and Carol even though I’ve grown to dislike Carol overtime. But otherwise the villain is forgettable, a lot of the fight scenes are complete white-noise, and a lot of scenes are completely cringy and predictable.

Epic Career Quest (7/10)-Waking up after a Super Bowl aftermath was weird for me. I don’t know the general opinion is on this series but I found it entertaining. The characters being mismatched kind of works for me as someone who likes these types of ensembles like Drawn Together. And as a growing adult their messages about imposter syndrome and making your goals really stuck with me.

Terrifier (6/10)-I don’t know if this is a personal thing after seeing so much Invincible and Mortal Kombat but the violence here literally had no effect on me. Sure, this movie is scary but the plot kind of drags for me personally.

Terrifier 2 (8/10)-This movie is a step up in terms of scares and production value. Not to mention there’s more of a plot when the first was just a simple murder plot here it’s an extensive plot about people’s perception of Art The Clown and who he is. Where this movie falls flat for me is the sword thing, I personally thought that was an asspull and kind of out of place in a serial killer movie that a fantastical item just doesn’t fit.

Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur Season 2 (8/10)-Moon Girl Season 1 was a fun show that does a lot of cool superhero stuff while also doing enough to stray away from Marvel to make it its own. What do I think of Season 2? It’s on the same level. Nothing really noteworthy, they still do fun things, visuals are nice, and some of the plots are interesting.

Megaman X4 (9/10)-Probably my favorite Megaman X game given what I think about future games. The gameplay is fast paced and fun, the bosses are challenging but fun too, and the transition from SNES to PS1 translated greatly. And the cutscenes exist, if you know you know.

Jujutsu Kaisen (9/10)-Yeah I decided to ride the JJK train and unlike Naruto I do understand the hype. The animation is fluent especially with the domain expansion and curse enemies. I loved characters like Gojo, Maki and Nobara from their entertaining personalities. And Where Our Blue Is will always be one of my favorite songs in anime.

Freddy Vs. Jason (7/10)-The human parts suck especially if they get in the way of crossovers. But Freddy and Jason when they show up together they make the most out of them fighting each other and killing others. Not to mention the setup that has Freddy provoking Jason to getting into Elm Street works really well.

Venom:Let There Be Carnage (3/10)-If I described this movie in one word it would be annoying. Venom is a very obnoxious character who constantly screams and complains about everything. The cliche drama between Eddie and the rest of world is insufferable. The only remotely good part of the movie is the effects on Carnage as it was done pretty well. But other than that I have no desire to watch this one again.

Re:Cutie Honey (8/10)-Kill La Kill mixed with Ghost in the Shell. I honestly thought this was animated by Trigger. But in all honesty I love the fast paced action and character moments.

Resident Evil Revelations (4/10)-Boring. The ship location gets old and I wasn’t scared even once. I honestly like RE6 more than this considering that game has a lot of variety and fun gameplay. This game is so slow and unfulfilling.

Puella Magi Madoka Magica (9/10)-I love how subversive this anime is. Flipping magical girl tropes to be grim dark was a unique twist and made the characters more real than the traditional magical girl stereotype.

[skyfall8600]

Chapter 1: There Lived This Girl

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Warnings: murder, blood, bullying, sexual references, mature references, readers under 18 are encouraged to not interact with this series. Angst.

“There was this girl, the most beautiful in the world

She had all the boys in town wrapped ‘round her finger, oh

She would walk the halls and everyone would whisper and talk

‘Cause all the girls in town wanted to be her.”

[1.9k words]

Y/n Munson always believed that beauty was a social construct. Since the age of 3, her twin brother would always call his sister ‘The prettiest girl ever’. She could vaguely remember her mother also fitting that category, hearing stories about how the great Lizzie Munson was the biggest catch of her time. And so it was only natural that young little Y/n Munson saw nothing wrong with the peculiar way she dressed, or how her hair was practically untameable. She had no concept of the difference between the beauty within and out. That was until primary school came around.

Things were already tough; Mother gone, father gone, and she had to share a room with a brother who refused to bathe. Uncle Wayne tried his best, but the little girl was a total mystery to him. She wore his old clothes and within months of living with him, no one could tell Y/n and Eddie apart. People assumed Wayne Munson was looking after his two nephews, who were both wild with heads full of fantasy stories.

That’s when the suffering began. Kids were mean and cruel. More often than not, she’d come home with gum in her hair and clothes destroyed. Leading her to look more and more like her brother every time.

After the…..event, things took a turn for the worst. The only ones who noticed she was gone were the two males in her life that she shared the small trailer with. For six months she was MIA, recovering in private with distant relatives.

Upon her return, Eddie could hardly believe she was the same sister as before she left. She radiated a confidence that far exceeded his, and a new sinister look filled her eyes. Her clothes were different, far less boyish and more fitting with the rest of the female population. He hated it. He hated the change, he wanted his sister back. But, he loved her nonetheless…. He didn’t know what she went through all those months ago but he was happy that she was alive and functioning.

He could push past the clothes, the change of music and even the ungodly amount of time she now spent in the bathroom getting ready. He was just glad to have her back.

It didn’t take long for whispers about her appearance to spread across the hallways of Hawkins High. Within days people would gawk and stare, all the boys practically salivated as they watched her walk past. The only issue was, under the large outer appearance change, people failed to realize she was THE SAME Y/n Munson they spent years tormenting.

She planned it out carefully. She understood that her tormentors were shallow people, only caring about how she looked or dressed or did her hair…. It angered her. And especially after that happened, she couldn’t very much stand on the sidelines anymore.

Within weeks the boys were wrapped around her finger, begging for any kind of attention from her. Soon enough all the girls became jealous, cheerleaders snickering about her… secretly wanting to be her. But she would never wish this life upon anyone; and so if she had to sacrifice herself to make sure their torments stopped with her…. Then so be it.

“Hey baby,” Justin said, leaning against her locker as if he radiated sex appeal.

It took so much effort to keep the poker face she adopted in this new persona she created. Justin was a lower ranking basketball player, vaguely known by most.

“Hi Handsome,” she flirted back, only giving him the smallest curve of her lips. “We still on for tonight?”

She made sure to slow the way she spoke, keeping the seductive undertones on the edge of her tongue.

The boy blushed, nervously nodding his head. “Y—yeah, absolutely.”

“Perfect… I wouldn’t want to wait anymore.” She whispered closer to him.

His pupils dilated and the flush crept up from his neck. “I—I’ll be there, you’re bringing the stuff?”

She nodded, placing a kiss on his cheek so softly that she was sure her lips didn’t even touch. She thought it was ironic, her name hadn’t changed… and yet people still forgot all about the Y/n Munson they used to lock in the bathroom stalls.

Better yet, she would bring over her brother’s secret stash and none of them made the connection to her supply of the drugs to the only other dealer in Hawkins High.

Daft and superficial. The lot of them.

Her emerald eyes may now be covered in eyeshadow compared to her usual look; but she didn’t forget where she came. Much like how her brother was undeniably gifted at coming up with campaigns, she had her own plan ready to unfold. Acting as a secret devil in disguise, she was ready to exert her revenge.

Sneaking out of the trailer that night was easy. Wayne was at work and Eddie’s single bed across the room was still empty; perks about D&D nights meant there was no one she had to sneak past.

Her backpack was full of all her supplies. One bottle of rum, a few grams of weed already rolled, and her personal favourite… the rope and santoku knife hidden along the very bottom of the bag.

She wasn’t surprised to see Justin already there and waiting in the darkness of the abandoned house. The floor creeped under every step she took.

“Boo!” She screamed, making the boy jump out of fright.

His hand clutched his chest as he gasped, “Jesus Christ, don’t fucking do that. This place is already creepy enough. Why did you want to meet here?”

She sighed, placing down the bag and taking out the bottle of alcohol.

“Aw… What's the matter, big boy? Scared of an old house?” She laughed, knowing that it was too soon to blow her composure. “I thought that it could be nice and private here…”

Taking a swing of the rum to her mouth, she faked swallowing the burning liquid. She didn’t want her work to be sloppy, and so alcohol was strictly forbidden on game nights.

The boy in front of her smiled, imagining all of the wild fun he was about to have. She handed the rum to him, acting a fool.

“Here, have some.” And sure enough he did.

Devouring the alcohol, his eyes never left her. Especially when she traced her hand across his chest, inflating his ego where possible. The liquid spilled down the side of his chin, she leaned up to lick it clean. All the while thinking, ‘You gross pig’.

Heaving for air and slightly in shock by her actions. He gave a flirtatious smile nonetheless.

“Let’s play a game.” She whispered into his ear, pressing her body up close to his. “Close your eyes and wait here.”

Intrigued by where things might lead, he followed instructions like a lamb being led to slaughter. Unaware but entirely willing.

She moved slowly and effortlessly, a mastermind in her element. The rope in one hand and the knife concealed in the back waistband of her skirt, she tried to think of the best use for the rope.

‘Tie up his hands and legs so he can’t run?’

‘Tighten it around his neck and in his mouth so he can’t scream?’

She made a mental note that for the next victim, she might have to bring more materials.

“So how’s this gonna work?” He spoke and it displeased her.

“Don’t you worry,” she replied, slowly grabbing his hands to bind them behind his back. “This is all about the other senses, we’ll get to the fun stuff soon.”

Surprisingly, Justin kept his eyes shut. Sacrificing his body to let her do as she pleased. Eyeing around the room, she saw a dirty cloth covered in spider webs.

“Open your mouth for me, Sweets.” She purred, letting him imagine whatever he wanted the material to be. Luring him into the trap, she kissed him. A task needed for the duty.

He accepted the kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth all too eagerly. There was no tenderness or passion, all he wanted was to get off. She could tell. His moaned in frustration by not being able to touch her, his hands firmly behind his back still.

“Keep your eyes still closed for me baby.” She hissed, “I just need to get something.”

He nodded, ever so obedient.

The dirty rag covered in cobwebs got stuffed into his mouth. His eyes bulged out and opened, his screams muffle red into the material. Unable to take it out himself, tears started to brim his eyes.

“What’s the matter?” She teased, “it’s not a nice feeling huh? I should know, I didn’t quite like it either when you stood there and let them do the same to me…. Unfortunately for you, I didn’t have spiders nesting on the ones shoved in my mouth.”

His muffled cries were more aggressive. Reaching to her back, knife in hand…. It only made him thrash out more.

“Now now—be a good boy and sit still.” She cooed. Forcibly grabbing his shoulders and thrusting him down to his knees. Thankfully his legs were already tangled and tied by her trusty rope.

She started small, carving waves into his shoulder blades. The sound of the skin breaking under the sharp knife was diluted under the sound of the blood splattered onto the floor.

This wasn’t supposed to be a bloody affair, she wanted it to be simple and efficient. Pouring the alcohol to cover the wounds, she was surprised that he was still kneeling upright.

Once he was fully drenched in the liquid, she took a step back to admire him. Vulnerable, crying, shaking… exactly like how she was when IT happened. Only difference is, she’d made sure she finished the job.

“You know, I could go for a smoke.” She said, carefully lighting the rolled joint. Inhaling deeply, she blew the smoke into his face. “What? Not a fan? Shame… this is my brother’s best batch.”

Justin was a mess beneath her hand.

“It’s a shame I had to start with you… but you didn’t help me, I looked directly at you and you just fucking stood there and watched. Now it’s my turn to watch and do nothing.” She spat out, moving the lighter in her hand to become ablaze directly in front of now drenched cloth in his mouth.

He tried shaking his head, tears flowing down and mixing with the alcoholic liquid on his skin. But she ignored he cries and connected the flame to the material, thereby ignitionating the fire. His whole body erupted in flames within seconds. Moving back to stand near the doorway, she merely stood and watched.

Finally allowing herself to indulge in what was left of the alcohol in the bottle, she said her final curses at him. She only left once his body appeared lifeless on the floor. The smell of burning flesh was masked under the remnants of weed.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

Hi all and welcome to my new passion project! This is my first time writing a Steve Harrington fanfic (I’ve only done Eddie Munson works). If you want to get the vibes of what this new series will be like, please check out the playlists on the series Masterlist!

Series Taglist

@loving-and-dreaming @sweetsweetjellybean @azaleaforsure @cutiecusp @lipglossanon @sheisjoeschateau @tinydonkeysforlife @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @gothvamp1973 @taeddybearkim @anapockets