#disney you dropped the ball so hard

[ytcomments-archive]

[lay-z]

Thinking about steamy shower sex with a pent up and touch starved soap after his deployment, you would have sent him countless teasing pictures and videos throughout his mission and now he is aching to get bay back by hoisting you up and pressing against the glass door of the shower cabin with your legs wrapped around his muscular and chiseled waist/hips. Could you please write something about that ? I'm definitely aching to read it with your writing style

Thank you for your ask, nonny! 🥰 Since you didn’t specify a gender, I’m going to go with female!Reader since that’s what I always do. Btw, I’d totally write for a x male!Reader if someone would request something. *hint hint* 👀 And if you can’t tell, I am a huge slut for desperate and needy men 😩 Sorry if this isn’t exactly what you’d asked for! 🩷 xoxo

MDNI, 18+ | tw: slight cnc kink; shower sex; needy/desperate!Soap; unprotected sex/creampie; premature ejaculation; not proof-read

Johnny catches you off guard while you’re taking a shower; singing and performing for an imaginary crowd like you always do when you’re in a particularly good mood.

Your eyes are squeezed shut to keep the shampoo from stinging them; the hot shower stream is pelting down on your flushed skin, steaming up the cabin and turning the glass foggy while your head it tipped back as you wash the suds from your hair, still humming a tune like a true Disney princess.

You stand no chance like this. Johnny could hear you as soon as he’d unlocked the front door to your shared flat, dropping his heavy duffel back in the entrance hallway and kicking off his boots with a soft huff. His bad knee is aching, his whole body sore like he got run over by a Humvee, but he can deal with the physical pain.

It’s the way his chest feels tight and hollow simultaneously, his rugged features set in an emotionless frown, which has him more worried as he passes by the small vintage mirror mounted above the shoe rack in the hallway. He’s practically gone non-verbal since stepping foot onto the airfield back on base. His dark stubble has grown out as much as his Mohawk, the bags under his eyes darker; his usually bright eyes now dull with fatigue, giving him a grim expression.

With his last shreds of energy, he starts peeling off his combat clothes on his way towards the bathroom, groaning under his breath as he pulls the tight compression shirt over his head, muscles screaming and aching with the effort as he lifts his arms up. His pants follow, along with his boxer briefs, and Johnny wrinkles his nose at his own body odour; the stench of sweat and blood and death lingering in every crease, caked into his pores. Steamin’ Jesus, he smells ripe…

But you’ll make it better, you always do. He can already feel your phantom touch on his bruised skin; soft palms running over his body, slicked up by nicely scented soap and warm water, and you’ll learn it all anew after weeks apart from each other. Johnny lets out a shuddering groan while his cock starts swelling and twitching, blood rushing in his veins by the sheer imagination of you touching him.

He doesn’t announce himself, can’t even crack a smile at the sight of you, when he sneaks into the bathroom. He’s not even trying to be quiet, but the way his mind is still in the field, makes him watch his steps and open the door in a way that’s silent.

When he slips into the shower cabin behind you, still so blissfully unaware of his presence, his chest expands with a deep breath, inhaling the moist and sweet air. His cock is rock hard, ruddy tip weeping against his lower stomach, coating his bushy pubes with his thick precum; thick and milky, because he hasn’t come in days and his balls are hurting as bad as the rest of his body.

Your eyes shoot open despite the suds still running down your face when you’re grabbed from behind; lungs burning with a sudden, instinctual shriek ripped from your throat, though it’s immediately muffled by a large, grubby hand clasping over your mouth while another strong arm wraps around your midriff, pinning your arms to your sides before pulling your back flush against a solid and equally naked body.

You know it’s him, your Johnny. There is no one else, beside his teammates perhaps, who could break into your flat. The feeling of his body moulding itself behind you, his hand over your mouth, lips latching onto and biting down on the curve of your shoulder while his beard irritates your warm skin – it’s all too familiar to be anyone else. Still, your heart is hammering violently against your ribcage while the lack of oxygen in your lungs is slowly making you dizzy. You slump back against Johnny and he catches you with a pleased rumble in his buff, hairy chest.

“Missed ye.” That’s all he murmurs against your ear at first, gruff and raspy like he hasn’t spoken all day, while your blood keeps rushing with adrenaline; shower stream still steadily raining down on you.

You whimper against his palm, in the far back of your throat, nostrils’ flaring with sharp intakes of breath as your body tries to calm down from the initial shock.

His arm loosens around your waist and he rubs his hand in large circles over your soft, wet stomach instead, wanting to get rid of the dirt and grime before he’d even consider touching your delicate pussy, no matter how desperate he’s feeling for you.

“Need ye, hen,” he mutters, tongue flicking your ear lobe while his hand over your mouth cups you right below your jaw next, “Need ta feel yer warm cunny squeezin’ ma cock. Fuck–! Can I?”

When you’re able to slip your arms free of his grasp, you reach for his hand on your belly, lifting it up to inspect it for any new cuts and bruises as you wash it for him while he’s already grinding his cock against your ass cheeks, his breathing becoming ragged against the nape of your neck. You can already tell in what state of mind he’s in, your poor, sweet Johnny.

And you’re not even ashamed of how slick your pussy has gotten since Johnny grabbed you, when there was a split second when your brain and body had braced themselves for–

Something dark and twisted you shouldn’t be thinking about right now.

“Missed you, too, baby,” you manage to reply when his now clean hand slips between your thighs to cup your pussy. “Take what you need. I’m all yours.”

Johnny whines, breath catching in his chest when he can already feel his balls tighten, painfully so, while his meaty fingers drag through your smooth folds, feeling your warmth and slick arousal, before he rubs your swelling clit roughly. Your flesh is soft and warm, supple under the pressure of his fingertips, unlike the cold steel and metal he’s been handling for the past weeks on his deployment.

He snarls and huffs against your shoulder when your quaking thighs squeeze his prodding hand after he slipped two fingers into your sopping hole at once, and he fingers you slowly and deeply until he feels your velvety walls loosen up around his digits, clamping down whenever he curls his fingers to nudge your sweet spot while he gropes your sudsy tits and tugs on your pretty nipples with his other hand, keeping you pressed against his body.

But his patience and need for you start to overwhelm him as his cock keeps straining and leaking against your ass, begging to be sheathed inside of your welcoming cunt with a mind of its own.

“Turn ‘round f’me,” he growls, already turning you around to him by your shoulders to finally catch a glimpse of your beautiful face and heated gaze. His cock twitches; another desperate whine is torn from his throat. “C’mere.”

He positions his feet carefully on the ceramic tiles, braces himself to support both your bodies as he lifts you up by the back of your thighs, fingers digging into skin and fat as he hoists you up and pushes you against the slippery shower wall. When your back arches away from the sudden chill of the tiles and your lips part with a breathy gasp, Johnny doesn’t hesitate to crush his lips onto yours, licking into your mouth obscenely just to feel and taste as much as he can at once.

He keeps your thighs spread wide apart and pliant for him, his own hips slotting between your legs, muscles bunching and flexing with exertion as he keeps you pinned against the wall while your arms wrap around his muscular shoulders. He’s grimacing at the burning ache in his body as he holds you, but he needs you. Fuck, he needs you so badly; panting and groaning into your mouth, brows furrowed in concentration as he grinds his flushed cock against your folds desperately.

And his eyes squeeze shut with a shuddering breath when you reach down between your bodies to grasp his thick cock and push it into your quivering hole for him.

His head drops forward with a rough moan, so loud and desperate that it resonates inside the bathroom, and his forehead rests against your collarbone as he sinks deeper into your warm, welcoming channel without any resistance. He can tell that you’re aroused for him, that you need him as much as he needs you, and it nearly makes him dizzy.

His muscles start trembling when he starts thrusting slowly and shallowly, barely able to move at all while his ass cheeks tighten and flex as your cunt flutters around his shaft, sucking him in deeper until he bottoms out. The way you moan so sweetly for him and the warm water raining down on the both of you continuously, only adds to the pleasurable sensations, forcing Johnny to relax and cave in while the tight coil in his belly teeters on snapping already.

Johnny grits his teeth and can barely speak, his words coming out a garbled mess. “Fuck–F-Fuck… ‘m gonna cum, hen. ‘m so sorry.”

He apologizes, feels terrible for disappointing you like this again, but you simply wrap your arms tighter around his neck, holding him together and breaking him apart as you whisper sweet nothing’s into his ear. His balls tighten and the pressure almost brings him to his knees, but he manages to catch himself at the last moment before he cries out and buries his face into your neck to muffle his pathetic sounds while his cock pumps his thick load into your eager pussy, coating and claiming your gummy walls with his cum.

“I’m sorry, ‘m sorry.” Johnny keeps chanting and whining against your wet skin, mouthing along the curve of your neck while he keeps rolling his hips into you desperately, fucking himself through overstimulation and exhaustion just to try and make you feel good, too, while you hush and coo praises into his ear, carding your fingers through his hair soothingly.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

im in NEED of a cute fluffy fic of the aftermath of charles' win, just something cute and domestic with reader!!

Mine

thank you for asking :))

1,163 words 6,115 characters

Charles LECLERC was many things, but being a Monaco Grand Prix winner was not one of them. Unfortunately for him each year brought greater dissatisfaction and disappointment to him and to the entirety of Monaco.

Her relationship with Charles was undefined, were they friends yes were they more than that yes but were they in a relationship no. She wanted more but didn’t want to risk what she already had.

There was something about this season though, already seeing Carlos and Lando take their wins you knew it would be Charles turn soon. It was almost like you could feel it in the air, the whole atmosphere seemed to be in his favor. You stood there in all red rocking his CL16 cap as a slight hint to who you were supporting.

His eyes widened with each step you took, unsure as to why he finally saw you as the way you were. Bold beautiful and someone he wanted as his not just as a friend but as a lover. He swore that if he won the Monaco Grand Prix he would grow the balls to ask you to be his girlfriend. It was kind of a flunk on Charles’s end, he knew he was playing it safe with tying up him wining to asking you out, but whatever floats on his boat.

He almost lost it when he found out he was on pole with max long behind and the McLarens right behind him. When he saw her cheering and hugging his mother he knew that she was sent to him by his father, having someone like her in his life was nothing less then a miracle.

Charles was praying he’d make the win, he couldn’t wait to ask her out, he knew how he’d do it. He’d call her into his drivers win prior to the race ( really risky but hey no risk no reward right??) he’d drop major hints and just before joris would knock on his door to let him know it’s time to race he’d kiss her on the cheek, to some it may seem small and innocent but it would be out of their comfort zones. Charles remembers when both of them were drunk out of their minds and were watching a Disney movie where she expressed how intimate she found cheek kisses, from family it was innocent but from a potential lover a cheek kiss seemed so close yet far. Knowing that a slight slip in balance would result in a whole kiss. She found the thrill of not knowing where her lovers lips would land exciting, always wondering if she would be lucky enough to experience that in her life. Little did she know ;).

The next day rolled in, bringing hope and anxiety with it. Charles knew he had a two massive tasks to complete, winning the Monaco Grand Prix and winning over the girl of his dreams. He swore he wished time could speed up when he saw her enter the paddock in a pretty pink outfit her waist being accentuated with the help of the outfit he wanted to wrap his hands wound her waist and twirl her around. She found it strange the way Charles was breaking eye contact with her constantly, she brushed it off as the immense pressure he was put under, having the hopes and dreams of not only yourself but your whole country was intense. Charles swore he saw her eyes lit up when he called her into his drivers room, something that small made him want to sacrifice the whole world just to see it again.

He was whipped and she didn’t even know it. Charles had opted for a different strategy he’d end up getting her a charm bracelet with his race number as well as her favorite movie character, her eyes held shock and happy tears when he put on the bracelet on her. Something felt special about this as if this was him initiating something else?? her mind was so preoccupied and clouded with doubts and questions that she almost missed how close Charles was getting to her. It was her nose that snapped her back into reality, she was hit with a fresh wave of his perfume he always smelt divine but today was something else. When his lips hit her cheek Charles swore that was the hardest thing he’d ever done, he saw how shock registered on her face almost worried she didn’t appreciate his move. What he didn’t expect was her hands around his neck and her lips on his cheek. They were so close that one could say there wasn’t even an atoms space between them.

Both their eyes held anticipation. God only knew what would happen if Joris hadn’t knocked on the door, alerting the budding couple that their time was up. Charles has a bigger task to complete now. His mind was hopelessly wandering back to her and how fucking soft her lips felt.

He couldn’t wait to win this race and kiss her lips. He was hoping to taste all the flavours of lip balm that she had to offer. 76 long and gruelling laps. Each lap held a different feeling. The first few were focused on keeping McLaren’s behind them. The following few were replaced by images of her, and the remaining three laps were focused on his father, Jules, and Monaco.

As his moment came, Charles crossed the finish line, leading the entire race from start to finish. This fabled race had finally been won by one of their own. Charles had tears streaming down his face as he watched the crowds erupt in joy. He saw the cameras slowly pan into his family and eventually her. He knew what he had to do.

He was going to kiss her right there and then. He saw that her eyes welled up with unshed tears. Each second felt as long as an hour. their secret moments in a crowded room, they had no idea that this moment would alter their relationship forever. She saw a change in his eyes; she didn’t know why he looked so desperate to bring her to the barriers, but when she reached there and found his lips crashing with hers, she finally understood why.

All her tears and pain that she carried from dating the wrong guys just to get over Charles all felt like water under the bridge. She had simply gotten a taste of the man she craved for so long, and she knew she didn’t want to stop anytime soon. They were falling fast and hard and had no way to stop. Charles put the last of his energy into that kiss with her and found himself grinning from ear to ear when he saw how flustered she was.

The kiss sealed their fate.

Later in the evening, Charles did end up asking her formally to be his girlfriend, but that’s a story for another time.

[letsgetrowdy43]

reader has a breakdown ab something and mark is there

This was a little longer than intended

It’s their fourth year, and normalcy is starting to work its way back into the little family.

Philippe has moved on with his crush, realizing that Mom is happy with Mark and that maybe they were just meant to stay friends. He’s happy for Mom and Mark and had really matured in the past few months. The co-parents were back to being best friends once again, her moving in with Mark after dating for a few months helped relieve the strain that had been put on their friendship.

Philippe had let one of the sophomore’s girlfriends set him up with a girl who was seemingly super sweet, Jess was in her third year and was really good to Phil, she was super understanding of his situation and was extremely patient with him, even when it seemed like he was being the most shit boyfriend in the world.

She was perfect, in every aspect, except for the fact that she hated one of the most important individuals in his life. The woman wasn’t sure if it was because Jess saw her as a threat or if it was just because she hated the relationship that the two shared, but she knew that Phil’s girlfriend wanted nothing to do with her. So she held her tongue, she knew that this relationship was important to him, and he was accepting of her and Mark so she let the comments and stares roll off her back.

On the other hand, Mark hated listening to this girl make comments about his girlfriend’s parenting, her relationships, and other big things that the girl was insecure about. It was hard because he knew that she wanted to stay quiet, hoping that the tension between them would die off once she was no longer deemed a threat.

It all went to shit at the first hockey party of the year, the now Juniors decided to hold the first party of the year, meaning Mark, Ethan, and Dylan had accumulated as much beer as possible and were ready for a rager.

“Phil it’s no problem really,” she said trying to convince him to go out, “I heard Jess was going, go be with your girlfriend” She smiled as he rolled his eyes and sunk deeper into the couch cushion, his year-old daughter squished against his chest. “Y’know its okay for you to go out and have fun too” he deadpanned, “besides it’s my weekend with our daughter so I’m gonna sit here watch Disney movies and go to sleep at a reasonable time,” he said motioning to the paused movie on the screen, his new favourite ‘Tangled.’

“Boo you’re no fun” “I’m no fun? You need to go out and get sloppy drunk with your boyfriend, you’ve earned it!” He exclaimed and pointed towards the front door.

And that’s what led to now, the first real-time she’s been out and socialized since she had Florence.

“I forgot how good I was at beer pong” She smiled and turned to Luca whose jaw dropped, she had sunk the pong ball in 5 different cups on her first round. “Drink” she reminded the stunned boys with a smile, Gavin and Seamus who stood on the other side of the long table widened their eyes they took turns drinking the cups she had knocked off the table. “I like this version of you” Luca grinned as he high-fived her. “This feels like frosh year all over again,” she said as she watched both Seamus and Gavin throw the balls and miss the cups.

“Hey, Jess” Seamus greeted as she maneuvered her way around the kitchen, her friends just behind her as she searched the house for someone. She stopped and smiled at the two sophomores, “Oh hey boys, have you guys seen Phil?” “He not here, he’s at home with Flo” Gavin smiled and nodded over to the woman who stood at the other end of the table with a soft smile on her lips, awkward tension filling her chest.

“Why are you here?” Jess’ brows furrowed as she fully came to a stop and turned her whole body to the group. “I live here?” She said confused looking at the boys whom all shrugged at the weird feeling in the air.

She smiled innocently before ushering for her friends to continue looking for the rest of their group, “Shouldn’t you be the one with Flo, you are her mother?”  “Philippe is with her, trust me she’s in good hands” she joked as the boys all smiled, everyone quietly praying that this interaction would end soon and put them all out of their misery. Jess smiled sweetly once more, “I’m just saying, you do put a lot of pressure on him, you think you’d at least let him go out with his friends once in a while” Luca’s jaw dropped and looked over to the girl standing next to him whose eyes just glossed over with tears, “Thank you for the suggestion Jess, really, I’ll take it into account next time I decide to put my needs over his and my daughters” her tone wavering between venomous and tearful as Jess nodded and walked away.

A laugh left the girl’s mouth as she shook her head, “I can’t believe she just said that to me” she said with a soft but shocked tone before excusing herself to go upstairs to her and Mark’s room.

Mark knocked gently on the door and opened it to see her sitting on the edge of her bed, changed into her pyjamas, looking up at Mark with smudged makeup under her eyes, “I can’t do a single thing for myself without feeling like I’m being judged for it” she said quietly as he sat next to her, his arms wrapped around her shoulders to pull her closer, “I feel like such a bad mom all the time lately.” “You’re allowed to have a life, I know you feel like you can’t, but you are allowed to have fun,” he said lowly as she nodded into his frame, her hands gently making their way around his torso as she hugs him, “and trust me there is no better mother out there, Flo is so lucky to have you as her mom, you cherish that little girl more than life itself”.

“Is there anything I can do to make it feel better?” He whispers, his fingers drawing circles on her back as she pulled away with a serious look on her face.

“Have you drank anything tonight?” He shook his head, “No, not yet” She smiled and placed a short kiss on his lips “Grab your keys, we need to go see Flo” She smiled and grabbed him by the hand to pull him to his feet.

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[slippinninque]

🐍Loan x Tommy 🍰

In which a lover comes with an apology (OC fic)

Warnings: none, fluff, short n sweet, blackman x black snakewoman, human x monster, OC fic, before work drop will edit later lol

When the diner was closed and the moon was full in the sky, Tommy went to see her.

The swamp wasn’t so terrifying now that he knew how to travel it. Or, really, now that he had protection while he moved through it.

It wasn’t anything to bring a few steaks that didn’t make the cut at the shop, throwing it into the water for the lurking gators and non-gators. Most of them were friendly from what he’s heard. The others only cared for him to hear their grumbling displeasure from the dark.

He knew he’s arrived to their meeting spot when the crickets quieted and glowing eyes began peering out at him from the bushes and murky depths below.

Those were not the eyes he was looking for, though.

Tommy shifted, turning off his boat light to allow the moonlight to glaze the water. It heightened his senses, his eyes was no match for the darkness and that was with glasses. The hair of his arms rose, August could feel an audience worth’s of eyes on him.

He called out, “You out here, Loan?”

Maybe.

The whole swamp pulsed with her voice. Around him, the creatures called and sang once again more excitedly as they knew their protector was present.

“I’m no siren or anythin’,” He said as he reached into his bag, “But I think I know to bring you out.”

Loan liked to hard to get when Tommy wasn't as punctual as he promised to be. For someone who spent so much time alone, Tommy wouldn't blame her for the attitude that comes from a broken promise.

Tommy had a trick up his sleeve though. He reached into the duffel he brought, it's ziiiiiip easing into the air like a reeling line.

Is that cake?

It took a very long time to learn how to hold in his flinches. Loan was already making herself comfortable, coiling most of her serpentine figure bulk into the boat and watching him with curious eyes. Her earlier annoyance at Tommy seemed to have taken a backseat.

“It’s a special flavor too. I got the first piece of the season for you.” When he picked up the heavy piece of cake and Loan opened her mouth wide expectedly.

Her jaw hung about five inches lower than humanly possible.The side of her jaw spreading to reveal the same obsidian -sheen scales that encased her tail, it reminded Tommy of a pair of obsidian earrings his Mama used to have.

Tommy chuckled and plopped the heavy slice onto her split tongue.

It’s sweet!

“It is. It’s pumpkin and vanilla.”

Tommy offered the parchment wrapping of the cake as well, “Are you still mad at me? The diner took a while to close up tonight, the only reason I'm so late.”

Loan balled up the wrapping and tossed it into her open mouth as she considered him. It was hard to catch her smile at first, with the way seam of Loan's mouth curled around her head.

It was there though.

“I forgive you.”

Words spoken from her very mouth was a rarity. The wildlife around them went silent in respect and Tommy could feel the truth in her words on his skin.

Tommy wasn’t much one for thinking too hard about things, but he did wonder often about the specifics of Sirens. He’s never met one before until Loan and she’s no Disney classic. First, there was no fish-tail. Her lower half was that of a constrictor’s. Where the Sachertorte brown of her skin stopped, the dark abyss of her scales began.

Tommy felt the strength Loan's tail when his boat’s engine busted on him. She towed the boat along the powerful coils of her tail as she hummed to the sound of croaking frogs.

If you stared too long at her, you will see her otherness. The slit pupil of her dark toffee eyes, just how far back her smile reached on her face. A smile he couldn't even go two days without seeing now.

The water around them spoke as she settled into the cradle of his arms, I worry when you take time. Do you not get lonely without me?

“You wouldn’t be able to imagine. You’re all I think of when I have season the chicken gizzards.”

Her laugh felt funny. Her amusement seeped into his pores, joining his.

Tommy didn't feel the water seeping into his clothes, he didn't mind the nosey creatures bumping up against partition of water for a closer look.

He only care about the gentle prick-pull of Loan's claws as she kneaded the arm across her waist. He only felt how her undulating tail pushed them lazily through the water.

Looking down at her amazing form, Tommy took a loc freed from her complicated rope of braids to hold it to the moonlight. She smelled like burning wood and deep sea, lying in his arms and gleaming like the world's first treasure. Loan could feel so light as she could slip away or weigh them both down to the sand below.

"How 'bout I stay the night with you?" Tommy spoke into the curve of her neck and shoulders to feel her shiver, "To make sure I'm truly forgiven."

The tip of her tail breeched the water and wriggled in thought, Tommy watched her battle against her sudden shyness.

This night will be cold....that's bad for you....

Tommy kicked the duffel at his feet, "That's why I brought this junk. So my lil' mortal hang ups 'bout being warm won't stop our good time."

Loan turned in arms and Tommy felt his heart hammer at her blown pupils. This sweet thing has never sang at him but Tommy would burn before he let her go.

He pressed a kisses along the invisible seam of her jaw, rubbing the neat line where scale met tender flesh at her waist. Her sigh spanned across the trees and rippled the water--something, somewhere echoed.

"I just need you to find us a nice spot like last time." He whispered, "Then I can say sorry some more...that okay?"

"That okay."

August laughed holding onto her as Loan's tail lashed, pushing them forward with a burst of speed. With one hand he steered while he other ran along vibrating scales.

Tommy felt her eagerness, her happiness of him being there. A loving sheet blanketing the parts of him that wasn't being lovingly squeezed.

There was string that could be pulled, no destiny that could be written, no fate strong enough to intervene with this truth.

This swamp had his heart forever and always.

------

Ending notes✨:just a little something rattling around in my head! Tis the season for spooky and Ive bee having hella monster fluff stories. Would y'all want them? 👀 Tell me what you think! Thank you for reading ilysm,💕✨💜💖✨💕

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[trashquisitor-shirozora]

Was browsing through early BOBF/Mando S3 criticisms on Tumblr and WOW, 93% of S2’s viewership dropped when S3 finished airing for an extremely understandable reason. As someone who got into Dinluke after all the dust settled I can only imagine what it was like becoming invested in Din’s story and being floored by the S2 finale only for it to get totally swerve-balled after a long-anticipated wait. How did you avoid the disappointment and burnout?

Spite is an incredibly powerful motivator, let me tell you.

I'm halfway joking about that, btw. I could say I'm used to disappointment and I also worked really hard not to take things too personally after being disappointed time and again year after year by fandoms I was in. Imo the healthiest attitude is that no show/movie/book/videogames/etc will ever play out the way you want/think it should so take what you can get and trash the rest. By the time I started watching The Mandalorian, I'd been burnt badly by Star Trek AOS, the Sequel Trilogy, the MCU, and the Disney machine, and I had to figure out how to accept that I like what I like, I can't change what I can't change, and I can/will run the fuck off with what I can change, which is making wildly fun and fulfilling transformative shit like fanfics and fanart.

I was actually excited about TBOBF and was utterly betrayed by the executive decision to throw him and Fennec to the side in order to absolutely trash the Season 2 finale of the Mando Show by having Din and Grogu reunite just like that. I guess I got lucky in that I had a long-running fic series that I was heavily invested in and I was not about to let Disney stop me from finishing it. Instead of letting my frustrations kill my interest in the show and fandom, I turned it into motivation to keep telling the story I wanted to tell based on the fallout of Season 2. It also helped that Andor happened.

I quit Season 3 of the Mando Show after the 1st episode and it was the best decision I ever made. I had a really rough time with it and was encouraged to step away if it was giving me too much stress. I'm glad for that. Less time and energy picking about Filoni&Favreau and Disney Lucasfilm's decisions and disappointments, more time and energy spent writing and drawing the dinluke I want to see. The nice thing about Star Wars is that it is an old and vast sandbox. Plenty of room here to build whatever sandcastles and dig however many holes you want while canon goes floundering by.

I think also that it really helped to find spaces to share with people who vibe on the same wavelength, so I'm not alone to my thoughts and spiraling myself out of a fandom I enjoyed (like what happened with TLJ but I shan't go there bc this response is long enough). Those posts about having friends you can shit-talk things with? Valid af. You need outlets to vent your grievances without setting bridges on fire, and it'll help your enjoyment of things in the long run.

I didn't avoid the disappointment but I figured out how to make something of it, so I'm still writing dinluke, I'm still drawing dinluke, I'm still getting giddy over dinluke. I actively choose to do what I want with them, and nothing Disney Lucasfilm puts out is ever going to stop me.

[rfsak2]

Spitfire, Pt. 8

So… this is short on words but hella long on feels, so I hope that doesn’t bother you. I didn’t want to write that last battle scene because next chapter is likely to be hella battle orientated. I also didn’t add smut this chapter because, honestly the Dixons are separated for much of this chapter and post-t*rture smut feels gross.

Let me know if you like it!

Spitfire, Pt. 8

Everyone always thought Daryl was the rough one. DarylxOC

Warnings: violence, emotions, injuries, lots of bad language words

Part 7

**

“Olivia, I’m not trying to be mean or anythin’ but I could use a drink. I don’t give a fuck what it tastes like but I’d rather not have to break in here for more, y’feel me? Just give me whatever will get me drunker faster.”

Olivia stared at her and Mitzi was acutely aware that there was more compassion than the usual trepidation in her gaze. “M-Mitzi-“

Mitzi shook her head. “I don’t wanna talk. I just wanna drink. I’m not interested in cleaning out the alcohol store, though, so I would like you to give me whatever you can, preferably something to get me shitfaced ASAP.”

She sighed and leant over to dig through a low cabinet. She emerged with a bottle of whiskey, about three-quarters full, and passed it to Mitzi. “Take it.”

Mitzi nodded and sucked in a shaky breath. “Thanks.”

“If you want to talk about-“

Mitzi shook her head and took a swig from the bottle as she shut the pantry door behind her. 

By the time she made it to the basement she shared with Daryl, she had drained about a quarter of the remaining liquor. She hadn’t eaten in over a day at that point, so it hit her like a wrecking ball, robbing her of her balance and making her head spin. 

She closed the door behind her and the first thing she saw was a small pile of Daryl’s clothes she had cleaned a couple days ago sitting innocuously on the corner of the bed waiting for him to put them away.

She crumpled.

“Nah, you don’t kill them. Not until you try a little.”

Daryl caught her eyes, shaking his head despite the hands in his hair.

The dimpled asshole must have noticed and followed Daryl’s gaze. “So, Spitfire and Sleeveless, huh?” He grinned. “You still ain’t worried, pretty girl?”

She sucked in a breath, forehead pressed to the floor.

She felt her body tense. 

“Spitfire, no! Don’t y’fuckin’ move!” Daryl fought against the hands pulling him back in line. “Stay there!”

She felt Carl grab at her arm.

Negan laughed and sauntered over to her. “You must really have a temper, darlin’. All these people trying to keep you from doing the colossally stupid thing I can see boiling up in your very pretty, Disney Princess green eyes.”

She spat at his feet.

She wailed.

“I don’t like killing ladies. But you ain’t acting very lady-like.” He made a small moue of dissatisfaction. “That’s unfortunate.”

She bared her teeth. “Fuck you.”

He grinned. “Between you and your man here, I’m obliged to restore order.” He shrugged and started pacing the line again. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

She pushed herself up, only to fall back against the bedroom door. 

She sobbed, images of Glenn and Abraham playing merry havoc with her ability to breathe. She reached for the whiskey and chugged. When the burn was too much, she dropped the bottle, clumsily righting it and pouring whiskey all over her jeans. 

She wiped at it, her hand coming back bloody.

“Look at what you made me do.”

In a rush of frantic energy, she shot her feet and tore her jeans off, catching sight of dark stains on the right side of her Metallica t-shirt. She tore that off as well, throwing it on top of her jeans and kicking the articles of clothing blindly away. 

Her knees collapsed under her and she hit the floor hard. 

“There are rules and the rules matter.” He grinned. “I am truly sorry.”

She didn't know how long she sat there, just underwear, pieces of that night replaying in her head, broken only by her sobs and great swigs of whiskey.

Her throat burned, her eyes burned. Her hip hurt from where she hit the floor.

Her bedroom door opened and Rosita poked her head in. She breathed harshly and turned over her shoulder. 

“She’s here. I have her. Go back upstairs, Carl.”

“No, I want to help. I want to be here for her-” She could barely hear him, muffled through the door. 

Shame lit her up like a Christmas tree but she couldn’t make her body move.

Rosita shook her head. “She wouldn’t want you to see her like this, flaco. Go upstairs. You can come down later when she’s ready.”

He must have listened because Rosita closed the door behind her a second later.

Mitzi sucked down more whiskey. 

“This is what we are going to do?” Rosita crossed her arms over her chest. “Sit here and drink?”

Mitzi sucked in a breath, tipped the bottle.

Rosita snatched it away from her, waiting for the liquid to settle to see how much was left. There was maybe a fourth of the bottle left. She had drank more than she thought. 

“How much was in here?”

Mitzi shrugged.

Rosita sucked on her tongue. “Oh, hell no. We ain’t doing this shit. Get up.”

Mitzi shook her head, reaching for the bottle. 

“Get up, Mitzi.”

Mitzi motioned for the bottle. “No. Give me the bottle.”

“No.” She marched into the bathroom and Mitzi could hear the glug glug of the whiskey being poured down the drain.

“Olivia was savin’ that for somethin’. Pulled it outta some special cabinet for me.” Mitzi groused.

“Oh, I know.” Rosita propped her hip against the doorframe. “Olivia told me that you had gone to the pantry and demanded liquor.” The bottle clanged loudly against the metal of the trash can. “That’s how I knew I needed to find you.”

“I didn’t demand anythin’. I asked. Nicely.” Mitzi made a face. “I even said please.”

She snorted. “She was shaking when I talked to her. Though I guess she seemed more worried for you than scared of you.”

“She’s scared of everythin’. She shakes like a leaf when I so much as sneeze near her.” Mitzi rolled her eyes. “It’s pathetic.”

Rosita chuckled dryly. “I guess. But then you’re not doing much better, sat here like some sad sack of shit.”

“Fuck you.” Mitzi huffed, the words lacking heat.

“No, fuck you.” She spat. “You drinking yourself to death isn’t going to make anything better and it isn’t going to get Daryl back.”

“Me doin’ anything but this could get him killed though.”

Rosita huffed, frustrated. “He isn’t going to kill him. You called it at the church. That cabron is just a small-time big man trying to hold onto control. He needs Daryl to do that.”

“Until he doesn’t.”

“Stop it.” Rosita tossed her head. “Stop this defeatist bullshit.”

“We are defeated. We are done. What do you fuckin’ expect from me, Rosa?” Mitzi made a gesture that would’ve come across as aggressive if she wasn’t drunk and half-naked. “What is it I can do for you so you’ll leave me the fuck alone?”

“What can you do for me?” She sneered. “Why would I need anything from you?”

“Peachy. Fuck off.”

“You think I wanna be here babysitting you?”

Mitzi sighed. “If not then why are you?”

Rosita put her hand on Mitzi’s head and leaned in. “Because you need me. And I need you. And we need each other. All of us.” 

Mitzi scoffed, tears gathering in her eyes again.

Rosita stood and started rifling through her drawers. She made a small noise of triumph when she found Mitzi’s clothes in one of the drawers. She pulled out a fresh t-shirt and a pair of leggings and tossed them at Mitzi. 

Mitzi pushed them off her lap. 

Rosita groaned. “So you’re just gonna sit there in your fuckin’ underwear?”

Mitzi scoffed. “Is there somethin’ else you wanted me t’do?”

“Miss me with the fuckin’ pity party.” Rosita sighed. “I lost someone too. And Daryl’s still alive.”

“I know.” Mitzi sucked in a breath, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’m so sorry-“

Rosita squatted in front of her, softening, tears in her eyes. “He wasn’t ever gonna pick you. You know that right?”

“He’s a coward.” Mitzi blinked, looking down at her hands. “He was always gonna pick the biggest threat. Or who he thought was the biggest threat.”

She nodded. “That’s right. And you being a woman of rather small stature, he was never going to think it was you. Even if everyone who knows you knows that you were one of the biggest threats there. He was never going to pick you.”

“I know that but-“

Rosita shook her head decisively, wiping delicately at her eyes. “But nothing. He did that, no one made him, no one forced his hand. He did that.”

“I’m pretty sure the bloody mess I made of his outpost didn’t help.”

“He didn’t kill them because of the outpost. He killed Glenn and-“ she sucked in a breath, “and Abraham because, without fear, he has no power.”

“And the fact that I led an operation that killed three or four dozen men.” Mitzi gestured agitatedly. “We can’t ignore that. I did this.”

“I ain’t ignoring anything, puta. It’s just that not everything is about you.”

Mitzi sucked in a breath like she had been slapped. “I know that.”

“Do you? Seems to me like you’re sitting here throwing yourself a pity party.”

Mitzi swallowed, tears gathering in her eyes. “I…I don’t know what else to do, Rosa. I don’t know what I can do that won’t get someone else killed.”

“Well, I do.” Mitzi was silent and Rosita continued. “We need to make him afraid.”

Mitzi looked up. Rosita was grinning ferally and Mitzi frowned. “What?”

“He’s already terrified of you, chiquita. I saw it, Rick saw it. I doubt he’s ever met a woman like you. So we’re gonna leverage that and take that asshole down.” Rosita stood. “So get up. We have to get ready.”

**

She walked up to the gates and nodded at the person standing guard. “Hey, don’t know if you remember me.”

“Here to see Maggie and Sasha?”

She nodded. “Yes, please.” She sucked a deep breath in and tried to force down the nausea that was already making itself known.

The gates opened and she smiled politely up at the guard. “Thanks, man.”

He nodded. “Heard what happened. I’m sorry.”

She swallowed and bobbed her head, throat tight. “Yeah.. ‘ppreciate that.”

A woman approached Mitzi and smiled softly. “Just know, people here at Hilltop are thinking about y’all.” Mitzi recognized her as the pretty black lady they had saved after the car accident. Mitzi struggled to remember her name- Birdie -and she reached out to squeeze Mitzi’s forearm. “Thank you for saving us and getting Craig and Andy back alive that night.” 

Mitzi blinked and breathed. The woman wrapped her in a quick hug.

“Mitzi?”

She forced herself to breathe, giving the Hilltop woman a quick closed-mouth smile as she walked away. “Hey, Maggie. How are you holdin’ up?”

Maggie wrapped her in a tight hug and Mitzi squeezed her eyes shut, trying to breathe through her nose. 

“I’m- well I’m not okay but I’m alright. How are you?”

Mitzi shrugged. Sasha approached with a tearful smile and pulled Mitzi into another hug. She felt her breath stutter in her lungs.

Mitzi squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry.” She forced air out her lungs in a quick rush. “I’m sorry. I knew this could happen and I did it anyway and I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

Maggie started shaking her head, but Mitzi couldn’t stop.

“I’m sorry that I convinced us to take out the outpost. If we hadn’t, maybe they-“

Sasha pulled her into another hug. “Negan killed them, Mitzi. He did it and he probably would’ve done it regardless.”

“But I knew-“

“Nothing.” Maggie dipped to catch her eyes. “You knew nothing for sure. And even if you did know, Negan still chose to do this. He doesn’t get to skate by accountability.”

Sasha rubbed at Mitzi’s face with gentle fingers and Mitzi realized she had started crying. “He’s a murderer, Mitz. He was gonna do it anyway. And if you had had any choice, you wouldn’t have chosen this. He took your husband.” Sasha smiled gently. “I’m not saying either one is worse, but we don’t have to worry about what’s happening to Abraham and Glenn.”

Mitzi’s lower lip trembled and Sasha pulled her into another hug.

“I will kill him. I’m gonna get D back and I’m gonna kill him.” Mitzi nodded against Sasha’s shoulder, blinking away tears. “I promise. There is nothing I can do to make this right, to bring them back, but I will kill him.”

“You don’t have to make it right.” Maggie pulled her into a hug. “It’s not your fault.”

Mitzi swallowed. “It feels-“

“He as much as said it, Mitz. He needed to make a big show, tamp down the revolution. He was gonna kill two of us no matter what.”

“I know, I do. Rosita tried very hard to knock that into my head yesterday.” Mitzi rubbed at her forehead. “But I’m still the reason why he needed to make a big show.”

Sasha smiled. “What did I tell you those pricks on the motorcycles said to me, Daryl and Abraham?”

Mitzi frowned. “What?”

“With the fuel tanker. What did they say to us? Do you remember?”

“To give them all your stuff?” Mitzi shrugged. 

“That they normally kill one of us.” Sasha nodded. “They were gonna do it anyway. At least we took some of them out. Didn’t roll over and show them our bellies.”

“These assholes have been turning up the pressure around here for months.” Maggie squeezed Mitzi’s shoulder. “Like you said, they would’ve come for us at some point. You and Rick would’ve fought them off and then they would’ve come back. We were gonna end up here, one way or another.”

Mitzi sighed and nodded.

Sasha smiled. “Besides, you’ll have a hard time killing him if I kill him first.” 

Mitzi smiled sadly. “And the student has become the master.”

Sasha wrapped her in a tight hug and pressed her forehead to Mitzi. “Maybe you can come with, be my spotter.”

“I’d be honored to be your spotter.”

Maggie wrapped her arms around the two of them. “We need to do more than just kill him. We need to take them all down. To do that we’re gonna need to wake Rick up.”

Mitzi nodded. “I can do that.”

**

“It’s just like a ghillie suit, y’ big baby.”

Mitzi breathed deep and dug her hands into the walker’s gut, retching a little as she spread it over the poncho she had scavenged. When she was sufficiently covered, she tore off the latex gloves she was wearing and pulled her scope out her pocket.

She settled back against the tree and considered the Sanctuary below her. She made notes and took a picture with an old polaroid camera. She observed for another ten minutes, watching as people came and went. 

Checking an old analog watch she had borrowed from Olivia, she leant forward, observing through her scope as it approached what she assumed could be a likely time for a shift change. 

She scratched some shorthand she had learned to use in the army on a piece of scrap paper, noting how many people changed spaces, what spaces were changed. 

She was especially interested in the odd walker barricade the Saviors had built in front of the main building. Mitzi sketched it quickly, taking note of how the residents of the Sanctuary navigated the minefield they had created.

When everyone seemed to settle, the activity coming to a smooth lull, she turned her scope to the area on the opposite side of the old factory, looking for another vantage point. She identified a new perch and moved out, dodging walkers quietly as they wandered past her. 

Settling into her new perch, a broken out window in a building half a mile away from the Sanctuary. From this angle, she could see a loading dock into the back of the factory complex. 

She sat and watched the loading dock for fifteen minutes. People brought things out, people carried things in. The varied baskets, boxes and totes suggested different origins if not scavenged goods. 

Mitzi jotted that down and took a picture of the loading dock. She turned and sketched out the rough layout of the system of roads and gates into the backside of the complex and took a picture. 

When she felt like she had that half of the building pretty well covered, she moved to a new vantage point, one that covered the front half of the building from a different viewpoint.

She lifted her scope and felt the immediate well of tears. She bit her lip to keep herself from crying out. 

There in the courtyard, Daryl had joined the people wrangling the walker minefield. He looked beat up with the beginning of a black eye and a split lip. At first, she thought he was moving sluggishly, which hinted at injuries she couldn’t see.

But then she saw him look up, squinting up and around him.

She smiled. Despite the chaos, other people in dirty sweats fighting to manage walkers and Daryl was getting the lay of the land. 

He was casing the joint. 

God, she loved her husband so fuckin’ much.

**

“There she is!” 

It took everything in her considerable willpower not to flip him the bird. Or break his scrawny neck. Or throw a knife at his smiling face.

There was a reason Rick took her knife before sending her out here.

She caught sight of Daryl in dirty sweats, face bruised. Dwight stood near him in Daryl’s vest, and she had to take a deep, grounding breath. 

“Spitfire Dixon!” Negan smiled up at her. “Never did catch your name, honey. Daryl, there, called you Spitfire that night. Figured it’d be okay for me to as well.” 

“My name is Mitzi Dixon.” She spared him a disinterested glance. “My husband is the only one who calls me Spitfire. So it is absolutely not okay for you to call me that.”

He seemed to pause, foot on the first step. 

She glanced at Rick, who shook his head subtly. Mitzi no.

Mitzi yes.

She glanced down at Negan and saw the moment he had to force the smile back on his face. 

“I guess that’s fair. I did kill two of your people- your family.” He grinned. 

She arched an eyebrow. “What d’ya want?”

“My god, you’re fuckin’ ice cold, huh?” He grinned over his discomfort. “Where did that fiery, sexy, little thing from that night go?”

She hummed. She looked back at Daryl.

“Gotta tell you, you’re not really supposed to be looking at him… like, at all.”

She turned to him, one eyebrow arched over hard eyes. “You gonna stop me?” 

He swallowed. “Nah… I admire your commitment to your husband. I’m just a big ole softie, what can I say? Let love win n’all.” He smiled, dimples and white teeth. 

She hummed, turned back to Daryl.

“You are so goddamn pretty. Hard to believe you were in spec ops.”

She rolled her eyes. 

He grinned. “Say…How in the hell did he pull you?” He stepped up onto the porch, making a production out of leering at her. She dug her nails into the bannister. “You are smoking hot. I mean really…the tattoo game is strong. If I didn’t think you would try to slit my throat in my sleep, break Dear Daryl out, I might offer you a special deal. I don’t think I’d mind marrying an Army Ranger. A sniper, at that. Something kinda erotic about it.”

She didn’t spare him a glance.

“Fuck, you’re so cool.” He chuckled. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him lift a hand. Felt it land heavy on her shoulder. She kept her eyes on Daryl. 

“That’s right. Heard you were a sniper.” He entered her line of sight, getting as close as he dared, leaning on the bannister. “Here’s me wondering where your rifle went.” He looked down at Olivia’s notes. “One M110 SASS. Sassy gun for a sassy lady.”

“Lost it after the outpost.” She shifted so she could keep an eye on Daryl. “You know, where I used it to kill three, four dozen of your people.”

He clenched his jaw. “Really?”

She shrugged. “Got separated, caught up in a herd on the way back.”

“That true?” 

“You callin’ me a liar?” He flinched away from her direct stare, the hand on her shoulder shook almost imperceptibly. 

Rick nodded, eyes hard on hers.

“That’s a shame.” He shrugged, sighed and leaned into her space. “Woulda liked to see it in action. Send you out on a couple of errands for me.”

“Yeah, it’s a real shame.” She drawled, monotone and bored, catching his eyes and holding them again. His grin faltered. “Woulda been mighty useful right ‘bout now.”

He lifted his hand like he had touched a hot stove. “I guess that’s it then.” 

“Guess so.”

He bit his lip. “You really aren’t afraid of much, are you?”

“No.”

“There’s gotta be something…” He leaned back. “I imagine if something happens to Daryl-”

She laughed.

“Don’t be fuckin’ dumb.” She smiled and met his eyes again. “Anything you do to my husband, I will return a hundred times over. If he even hints that someone shot him a dirty look, I will level whatever hole you call home. You can betcha ass on that.” She glanced at Daryl then back at Negan. “And lookit that, he’s lookin’ a little malnourished, a bit bruised up. You’ve already started the tab.”

“I like you even more when you speak.” Negan swallowed but forced a smile back on his face. “You sound real tough, babe, but with what weapons are you planning to carry out said return? I’m taking all of them.”

“Take ‘em. I don’t need ‘em.” She chuckled. “I ain’t worried.” 

Negan breathed deep and tongued at his lip. “I almost believe you.” 

“You should. It would be wise to do so.”

“Probably should take you with us then, if you’re a weapon.”

“Please do. I’ll get Daryl back quicker. Do most of the work for me.” She laughed meanly. “You won’t though. You take me with you and you dim assholes don’t make it back. I think you’re just smart enough to know that.”

“That so?” He swallowed and she laughed.

“Yeah, it is so. The only thing I haven’t decided is what t’do with your bodies when I’m done.” She shrugged, bright, cheery smile on her face. “I could leave your rotting corpses there to show the rest of your crew what happens when you fuck with me and mine. That way if anyone sacks up, tries to take over after you’re dead, they will know who’s comin’ for them. Or maybe let someone bury you so I have a grave to dance on. One way or another, I will obliterate any mention of you from this planet.” She turned away from him and thought better, turning back. “Oh, and you should know this,”

She pressed into his space, still speaking loud enough so his men, at least the ones who were close by could hear her. “You are fully outta your depth with me. You picked the wrong ginger, and I’m going make sure you know what a fantastic, fucked-up mistake you made. Whether, it’s me or someone else who takes the retribution outta your sorry hide, just know that I gleefully made it possible.”

He reached down and made a show of adjusting his belt. “Never popped a chubby being threatened. Toodaloo.” 

“You think you bad, honey, but we both know the truth. You’re just a small time warlord, the dictator of the week, and my list of confirmed kills was filled with motherfuckers like you well before the turn. Your bravado, as practiced as it is, ain’t foolin’ anyone. Not us, not your boys.” He turned over his shoulder and met her eyes. She smiled viciously and watched Negan take the porch stairs in one long step. She wiggled her fingers in a parody of a wave. “Bye now.”

Rick shot her a look. Negan was shaken.

“So remember, take care of my man.” She glanced at Dwight. “And keep your bitch at home. I ever catch him out, I won’t hesitate.”

Dwight chewed at his lip.

She turned back to Daryl and stared down into his eyes as long as she could as Daryl walked back toward the trucks. 

He seemed to shuffle, fumble a bit in the first couple steps, before regaining his footing and shooting her one last look.

Then she saw it. A small patch of white in the dark of the asphalt. 

She waited until she was sure they were gone and vaulted over the bannister. In the road, folded into the tiniest little triangle, was a piece of paper. 

She opened it with shaking hands. 

Love ya, D.

She took up watch at the front tower for the rest of the night.

Eventually, Rick was able to convince her to go inside and Rosita picked the splinters from under her nails.

**

Mitzi sat her hands on the back of the dining room chair. Rick looked up at her and sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I want to say, first and foremost, that I know that you are doing what you think is right.” Mitzi nodded. “I know that and I know this shit hit you as hard as it hit the rest of us.”

Rick nodded. “Okay, thank you.”

“And I’ve always trusted you and never felt that I had any reason not to.”

“Are you tellin’ me you are now?”

“No, I’m not saying that.” Mitzi moved to sit in the kitchen chair closest to him. “But we can’t, Rick. We can’t just let this happen.”

“Mitzi, he’s going to kill more of us.”

“Yes, he is. Regardless of what we do, whether we toe the line for the rest of our lives, whether we fight back or not, he will kill more of us. We need to prepare ourselves for that.”

Rick shook his head. “But I can make that happen faster by doing what I think you want me to.”

“I want you to lead us against him.” 

“Thought so.” He sighed. “Death, Mitzi. That’s where I’d be leading us.”

Mitzi shook her head. “Rick, you and I, we knew people like this, you arrested them, I killed them. Abusive, narcissistic assholes who say whatever they need to maintain control. He is prepared to walk the walk, I’ll give him that but he is not all powerful and I won’t let him scare me into thinking he is.” 

“He has Daryl, Mitzi. What you are thinking about doing could get him killed.”

She sucked in a breath. “I know it could.” She swallowed, eyes blinking away tears. “Could. I hope to god it doesn’t, but as long as it’s not a ‘will, I have hope.” She leaned in, holding his eyes. “The only thing I know for certain is that if we let this stand, more of us will die. He’ll feel slighted or disrespected or angry that one of his wives didn’t want fuck him, that Daryl won’t break, that I said something mean and hurt his feelings, that it rained on Sunday, and he will take it out on us. He’ll tell us that we can stop it, that we have choices, but we don’t.”

“We don’t know that.”

“No, what we know is that I gave him ample opportunity, ample reason to punish us- to punish me -and he didn’t. He didn’t do anything.”

Rick considered this for a short minute. “He’s afraid of you.” He nodded. “You shook him up and flouted his authority, he should’ve done something. Should’ve killed Daryl right there.”

“And he didn’t. He didn’t do anything when Carl shot at one of his men either.”

“Okay, that’s true. What do you think that means?”

Mitzi sighed. “It means that he isn’t who he said he is. And if we see that-“

“His men see it.” Rick sighed and nodded. “Okay, I see your point, but that’s a big if. That’s a gamble and I can’t, Mitzi. I can’t be responsible for more of my family dying.”

“That wasn’t your fault and it won’t be your fault if- when he kills more of us.” She smiled sadly. “I can’t make you feel less guilt but I will tell you what Maggie told me-“

“You went and saw Maggie?” Rick looked more anxious in a sudden rush. “What if someone followed you-“

“Who do you take me for, Richard Andrew?” She smiled crookedly. “You didn’t even know I was gone.”

“Fine.” Rick breathed out harshly, nodding. “What did Maggie say?”

“That Negan chose this. He did it. No matter what he says or who he blames, he chose this and he doesn’t get to escape accountability.”

Rick nodded vaguely. “Ok, but how? How do we do anything without putting us- our family -in danger?”

“We are already in danger, Rick. Right now, this very minute. There's not much we can do to not be in danger.”

“Fine. Say I take that as truth, what are we gonna do?”

She made a face and Rick groaned. “What did you do?”

“You’re gonna be pissed at me, but I took a detour down to the Sanctuary-“

“You what?”

She bit her lip. “I walked my happy ass down to the Sanctuary. I just wanted to get a lay of the land. No one saw me, I promise.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “How do you know that?”

“Because I stayed as far away as I could manage and still get a clear view. I used my scope-“

“The scope on the rifle you lost.”

“Rick, you knew that I didn’t lose it when you vouched for me in front of Negan. You also knew that I wasn’t going to let him take it.” Mitzi picked at her fingers. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I wasn’t going to let them have it. We’re gonna need it.”

Rick sighed and reached out to squeeze her knee. “I know, Mitz. Where is it?”

“I’m not going to tell you that way you don’t have to worry about lying for me anymore than you already have.” She smiled and they were silent for a few moments. “I saw Daryl.”

Rick looked up at her. “Yeah?”

She nodded, sucking in a shaky breath. “He didn’t see me, but he was out in this courtyard area where Negan keeps walkers.”

“Was he okay?”

“He was…” she smiled. “He was casing the joint and not being very subtle about it. They haven’t broken him.”

“Good.” He laughed. “We’re gonna get him back.” He squeezed her knee again. “Don’t know how yet, but we will.”

She nodded. “That’s partially why I was there. I’m going to start making plans. I won’t tell you about them so they don’t make interacting with that asshole anymore difficult, but I can’t sit around here doin’ nothin’.”

**

“Stop.”

Mitzi snorted, eyebrow arched into her hairline, and moved to pass the woman standing guard in front of the house.

“I said stop!” The woman snarled and reached for Mitzi’s arm.

“I don’t care.” Mitzi stepped out of her reach. “This is my house.”

“Stop before I stop you.”

Mitzi laughed in a crack. “You and what army, kid?”

The woman took a step up the stairs, going nose-to-nose with Mitzi. Mitzi laughed and stepped closer in. 

“G’on, do it.” Mitzi grinned. “You’re tough, but you ain’t never tangled with someone like me. I guaran-fuckin’-tee it.”

“How much you wanna bet?”

Mitzi leaned in closer, laughing when the other woman pulled back, clearly used to being intimidating via reputation alone. Not used to people who advanced instead of holding ground. 

Mitzi stepped in closer. “You see that? I don’t bet on sure things.”

“Arat, let her pass.” Negan sounded disappointed and she smiled cruelly when a shadow of doubt crossed Arat’s face.

“Yeah, Arat, let me do the thing I was gonna do anyway.”

Arat snarled and made to get in Mitzi’s face again.

“Arat.”

Mitzi blew her a kiss and took the stairs two at a time. She disregarded Negan and plucked Judith out of his arms. 

Negan frowned. “You think I would harm one pretty-” He reached up to tweak one of Judith’s blonde waves.

Mitzi moved out of his way and adjusted her hold on the toddler who was now blithely muttering ‘MiMi’ against her shoulder. “I think you killed someone in front of his obviously ill wife. I also think you made a big show of a man cutting off his son’s hand only to tell him to stop when you got your reaction.” She looked down her nose at him. “So yeah, I do.”

He shrugged. “Fair enough.” He grinned. “Say, you look real good with that baby on your hip.”

Mitzi groaned and moved to take the empty rocking chair, not comfortable leaving Carl out here with Negan alone. She caught Olivia’s anxious eyes from the otherside of the door and tried to reassure her with a small smile.

“It’s okay.” Negan licked at the corner of his lip. “I’ll wait. I wager another couple of months without your dear husband may change your tune.”

Carl snorted. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

Negan turned his asshole smile on Carl. “You’ll get it when you’re older.”

“He gets it fine. He just knows me and my husband better than you do.”

“Lifers, huh?” He looked mildly contemplative but she saw a flash of tension in his face. “Noone can stay loyal forever.”

“Is that why you have so many wives?”

“Yeah!” He chuckled at Carl, covering yet more tension. “One of the reasons.”

Mitzi hummed, letting Judith play with her fingers idly. “You drove out here just to shoot the breeze? Just out here talking about your wives with a teenager?”

Negan grinned. “No, I’m returning him to you. Y’see he took it upon his own self to visit me at home.”

“Jesus Christ, Carl.” Mitzi tried to keep her voice low and even for Judith’s sake. “You did what?”

“Oh, you’re gonna love it when I tell you what he did during the visit.”

Carl shrugged, clearly unapologetic.

“He gunned down two of my men.” Negan looked gleeful, as if he was looking forward to her reaction.

Instead, Mitzi turned her eyes on him, assessing. She kept quiet and watched with interest as Negan grew visibly uncomfortable.

“Huh.”

“Huh, what?”

She shrugged. 

“I said no.”

Negan cast her one last look before he turned away, grabbing his bat from the chair he had left it propped up against, and watched Arat interacting with Spencer. “Don’t be an asshole, Arat. Let the man pass.” Spencer climbed the stairs looking like he stepped out of a Lacoste ad, holding a bottle of liquor. “Oh, crap. Is that for me?”

Spencer put on his best prep school smile. “We haven’t officially met. I’m Spencer Monroe. Hi.”

“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.” Mitzi threw her head back and laughed.

Negan tutted, amused. “Don’t be rude, Mitzi.”

She snorted and turned to Judith, making a face. The toddler squealed with laughter and patted at Mitzi’s cheeks.

Carl stood, walking over to her and Judith as Spencer settled in his vacated seat and suggested pulling out the pool table across the street.

They started discussing the various amenities Alexandria had and Mitzi made a retching sound when Spencer cheered Negan’s proposed “vacation home”.

Spencer glared at her and she flipped him the bird behind Judith’s head. “Just make sure you use protection, Spence. Wrap it before he taps it. Look at that man. A true hero. Taking one for the team in fuckin’ khakis of all things.”

“Mitzi.” Carl shot a pointed look at Judith.

“Sorry kiddo.”

**

“You were right.”

She hummed and knocked elbows with Rick. “Rosa was right. Sasha and Maggie were right.” She shrugged. “I had to be woken up just like you.”

Rick sighed. “Still didn’t take you as long.”

Mitzi chuckled. “Let’s chock that up to the differences in our general temperaments.”

Rick snorted and looked up to address the person at the gate and stop, eyes watering.

She followed his line of sight and smiled up at Maggie. 

Rick was the first to pull Maggie into a hug, the tension leaking out of the group like water. Mitzi smiled, feeling some of the same relief but knowing that she wouldn’t feel better until Daryl was in front of her.

She waited her turn and squeezed Maggie in a tight hug. Maggie smiled and opened her mouth to say something as Mitzi’s gaze drifted over her shoulder.

She froze and sucked in a breath. Daryl caught her eyes from across the grass. Mitzi felt immediate tears in her eyes, her knees quaking, her breath stuttering in her lungs. “F-fuck!”

Maggie grinned. “Yeah.” 

She stumbled past Maggie, who was also crying. Rick laughed, his eyes red and glassy, as she passed him up at a full speed sprint. 

She hit Daryl like a freight train, wrapping herself completely around him and fisting her hands in his shirt. “Fuck!”

“Hey, baby.” 

She chuckled wetly. 

Daryl reached up, cradling her head, whispering. No one mentioned quite how long it took for her to pull away from his chest.

She discreetly wiped at her eyes and stood on her tiptoes to press her forehead against his. “Say it to m’fuckin face.”

He smiled softly against her lips. “Fuckin’ love ya, Spitfire.”

“I fuckin’ love you, too, D.” 

He kissed her full on the mouth. She gasped and arched into him, so overwhelmed that it didn’t even register that they were surrounded by a small group of people until Jesus politely cleared his throat.

She pressed a second more chaste kiss to his mouth and smiled. Her hands shook as she anxiously checked him for injuries. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Daryl swallowed, nodding as he wiped at her eyes. “M’fine, Spitfire.”

**

Mitzi rolled her eyes as Gregory continued with the theatrics. Daryl looked about ready to march across the room and shut him up himself.

She considered it but considered staying pressed shoulder to hip to Daryl’s side much more important than a braggart with little to be desired.

Even his taste in interior decorating was shoddy.

“And by the way, who would train all this cannon fodder?”

The answer was resounding, down to Jesus. “Mitzi!”

“Mitzi? Who’s Mitzi?”

Mitzi shook her head. “I am, prick.”

Gregory looked less than impressed. “It doesn’t matter, it was rhetorical~” he singsonged.”I don’t want to know. I don’t want to hear another word about any of it, ever.”

Rick huffed, agitated. “Would we be better off without the Saviors, yes or no?”

Gregory rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Sure. Okay.”

Michonne tagged out Rick, fighting to maintain her characteristic composure. “What are you going to do to fix the problem?”

“I didn’t say we had a problem.” He dismissed her. “You did. And what happens outside of my purview, is outside of my purview.”

Daryl pushed off the wall. “What the hell, man? You’re either with us or you ain’t. You sittin’ here talkin’ outta both sides of your mouth.”

Gregory stood, straightening his shirt sleeves. “I-I think I’ve made my position very clear.”

“What you’ve made clear is how utterly useless you are.” Mitzi wiped her hands over her face, short temper even more frayed. 

“I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

Mitzi laughed. “It doesn’t matter what my name is, you won’t be around much longer to remember it at this rate.”

He made a face, comically aghast. “Are you threatening me?”

“Nah, you ain’t worth the energy it would take to do that, fool.”

He rolled his shoulder more agitated than he was willing to admit. “This is who you want to train my sorghum farmers? This foul-mouthed plouc?”

Mitzi laughed. “You don’t even got the balls to insult me in English.” She nodded at Rick. “Why did we think he’d sack up and do something for his people again?”

Rick sighed, but seemed to think Gregory might deserve what was coming to him, or that it wouldn’t make it worse at any rate. Still he tried. “You should watch how you talk to her. Mitzi has been exceptionally on edge this past week.”

“Well, if she would just behave herself, we could maybe discuss this.” Gregory made a face. “Oh, wait. No. No we can’t, whore’s mouth or no. I’ve made my decision.”

Rick shot a look at Mitzi and shrugged.

Mitzi was on him in a second. She hooked her foot around his ankle and caught him by his shirt collar before he fell backwards. 

“I could kill you in a dozen different ways and you, being weak and useless, would be unable to do anything to stop me. So, yeah,” She let him go and he fell backwards into his chair. “I can train your sorghum farmers. I just need you outta my fuckin’ way.”

Gregory blushed and stood. “I would like to thank you all for not being here today and not having this meeting with me… or being seen on your way out.” 

**

“Holy shit.” Mitzi breathed. “What the fuck?’

Daryl chuckled, sitting on the edge of the bed they had been given for the night. “He thinks he’s a king.”

“D, he has a fuckin’ tiger.” She laughed. “What the fuck is going on? Do y’think someone dosed us or something?” 

She wandered closer to him and he reached out to pull her between his legs. He pressed his forehead to her sternum and sighed. “Missed ya, Spitfire.”

She ran her fingers through his hair and pressed a kiss to his head. “Missed you back, baby. So damn much.”

He pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her. She moved to straddle his lap, kneeling on the bed. “As cheesy as it is.” She swallowed. “I thought I lost you.”

He hummed, lifting his head to press a kiss to her lips. 

“I thought I’d never see you again and I knew it would be my fault.” She cradled his jaw and blinked away tears. “I couldn’t sleep while you were there, D. I kept thinking about what they could be doing to you and-” She spluttered to a stop, eyes squeezing shut to staunch tears. 

“Hey…” He pushed her hair outta her face and tutted.

“And I just keep remembering that I could’ve kept this shit from happening-”

He sighed and pressed another kiss to her mouth. “Baby, none a’this is your fault.”

Shaking her head, she stepped away from him. “Everyone keeps saying that, as if they weren’t there when I pushed for taking the outpost, when I planned it and led it.” She shrugged. “I did that. Glenn and Abraham are on me. I’m the reason he took you, D.”

He huffed. “Nah, baby, I got Glenn killed and I got me taken. After Abraham, he kept fuckin’ with you and I knew you were gonna react and I couldn’t let that happen.”

She sighed heavily in frustration. “Daryl.”

“Baby, I wasn’t gonna let you die there.”

“Even if it meant that you would die?” She swallowed. “‘Cause as odd as it is, we got lucky that he took you.”

He chuckled. “Are y’surprised? Y’know I would take a bullet for y’baby. That I wouldn’t let my wife die out there.”

She rubbed a hand over her face. "It woulda served me right. Only I get to escape the consequences of my colossal fuckups.”

“Mitzi.” He caught her hand, drawing her back to him. “Y’were right, baby. Y’were.” She dodged his eyes and he lifted his hand to wipe at her eyes. “You knew that this would start somethin’ and it did, but y’were also right that it was the only play.”

“But y’could have died.” She wiped at her face. “You got tortured and you coulda died-”

He caught her eyes. “Baby, I coulda died any of the million times you gotta buzz in your fool head and popped off at some crazy asshole. None of that changes that you are right. You were right to pop off at the crazy asshole and you were right about that outpost and y’re right now. I will always follow your lead, baby. As hotheaded as you are, I trust you with my life. I always have.”

She breathed out harshly. “I’m gonna bring him down. I told Maggie I would kill him, but I’m gonna make it possible for one of y’all to kill him.”

He nodded, hands on her hips. “Glenn ain’t your fault either, Spitfire.”

“Ain’t yours either.”

He shrugged. She smiled and set her hands on his shoulders, climbing into his lap. “Look at us, Guilty and Guilty-ier. Guess I shouldn’t look the gift-horse in the mouth.”

“Don’t give a fuck about no horse.” He pressed a kiss to her mouth and coaxed her mouth open with his. “I just wanna sleep next to m’wife tonight.”

She breathed deep and smiled at him. She leaned into him, pressing her forehead to his. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” 

Part 9

[jjtheresidentbaby]

I can’t get over little ant and cg spider can u do the prompt of why stress balls became banned! 💗😭

˚. ❝₊˚ stress balls ❞ ˚₊·

» ant vaughn x spider white

» a/n: does ant not having any little gear & quinni knowing about his regression directly contradict my cg!malakai & cg!spider & little!ant fic? yes. am i going to try and change it to make sense? nope

» warnings: pet names, talk of teethers/pacifers/chewlery

“Bud we can’t keep doing this.” Spider sighs as he wipes at the weird goopy substance on Ant’s face, the brunette avoiding Spider’s eyes as he knows he did the one thing he was asked not to. He bit into the stress ball Quinni got him. And it popped, just like last time, and the time before that, and before that.

“S’nice to chew on.” An unimpressed look gets shot Ant’s way and he quickly drops his head back down, only to be caught by Spider’s hand on his cheek again.

“I know you like chewing on things but remember the conversation we had about what was acceptable to chew on and what wasn’t? You know stress balls fall under the not chewable list.” It’s actually a conversation they’ve had multiple times for multiple items.

At first it was his hoodie strings, while not harmful, it was leading to the strings becoming frayed and loose string getting stuck on Ant’s tongue; then it was the stress balls he kept popping and getting those jelly-like balls all over the floor so Spider switched the kinds of stress balls he was buying, only it didn’t help much and they found themselves with the same issue. There’s a list of other items Spencer can’t remember that Ant’s been known to chew on, he puts everything in his mouth.

“Sorry Spi.” A small sigh leaves Spider as he shakes his head and brushes his thumb at Ant’s cheek.

“I know buddy, it’s okay. But no more stress balls, they’re officially banned.” It’s hard for Spider to put such a harsh boundary up when it comes to Ant’s regression- he always worries he’s crossing the line- but this is for Ant’s health, if he ingests whatever is inside the stress balls it could lead to serious problems and that is the last thing Spider wants.

“But Spencer!” It’s drawn out in that whiny tone Ant knows Spider won’t let slide, he fixes Ant with a raised brow expression and the latter clicks his mouth closed in seconds.

“I’ll let Quinni know and she can help me find something more suitable for you to chew on, k?” The want to argue is clear as day on Ant’s face but he nods, knowing if he argues he’ll only make things worse and risk getting punishment.

“Like those necklaces she wears?” It’s something Spider’s brought up more than once but Ant was always avidly against, for reasons unknown to Spider. But chewlery is a good solution for Ant’s constant urge to gnaw on things.

“Mm if you want, we can get teethers too, or a pacifier.” The last bit is added a little hesitantly, Ant’s cheeks instantly burn red and he drops his head again.

“You know I’ll get you whatever you need.” He’s already splurged on a Disney+ account and a bucket of random toys for Ant to use while small.

“…teethers might be nice.” A smile spreads over Spider’s face as he nods along, leaning to press a kiss to Ant’s forehead.

“I can do that. And I’m proud of you for communicating what you need.”

[1800-page-not-found]

Blade's actual story (honkai star rail/stelleron hunters x reader)

oh my god you guys kafka is so hot id let her run me over with a semi truck but actually not because i dont like pain

implied kafka x reader

I wrote this for what reason

its absolute chaos, read at your own risk

contains swearing

what am i doing with my life

i want to apologize before you read this

"Do you ever have the urge to dropkick a child?" You wondered out loud as you rest your head on kafka's shoulder. "Y-" But before kafka could say any more, blade butt in. "Everyday."

You sat up straight and stared at him. "I wasn't fucking talking to you, you piece of shit we should've just left you there at the Xianzhou Luofu." You moved to strangle him before Kafka turned you around and caught you in a superb romantic position. "You shouldn't go after that man child, put all your focus on me, won't you?"

"Do we kiss now?" you speak, slowly inching you way to kafka's scrumptious lips. She giggled and leaned to kiss you.

Blade, shocked that his mother would kiss that atrocity (he's referring to you)-oh my gosh are you going to be his new step mother? You started to laugh evily and throw balls of fire at him. (This was a figment of his imagination, this did not happen in real life.) Oh no, you're going to be an evil step mom! (only to blade ofc)

Out of the pure shock and terror, blade started to foam in the mouth and dropped dead like the rat he is. You went to check up on him because you didnt want to clean up another dead body. "He's not going to die unfortunately because he's immortal" you said.

"Oh really? I thought he would turn into a fair-" suddenly kafka's words were cut off (again) as blade started to grow cute pink wings and become your fairy godmother. Instead however, when he woke up, he started to throw his cute fairy wand that was pink and covered in glitter at people he was supposed to grant wishes to causing him to get fired by the fairy godmother association. This caused him to turn into shrek.

Kafka, actually terrified for once in her life pulled out her guns and shot at her own son, well what do you even call it now? idk either. anyway she started shooting but shrek-blade was bullet proof! it grabbed you by the hair and pulled so hard it made you bald. Kafka screamed in terror seeing your naked head and started to turn into a disney princess. You on the other hand turned into whats his face the villain in smurfs with the bald spot dude but more gorgeous and feminine/masculine. You became evil and ruled the world along side your wife who was now a disney princess but it turns out she was cheating on you with prince charming and so she ran away with him and lived happily ever after, but you, super heart broken, sang with shrek and finally turned into the donkey and ate shrek (you killed him)

the end youre welcome

p.s. silver wolf saw the whole thing but after a second, she thought it would be cool to hack another jet but when she got on it it blew up and well everyone died including her so

dont play with fire-literally.

[richincolor]

Review of Rez Ball by Byron Graves Heartdrum

Publisher’s Summary: These days, Tre Brun is happiest when he is playing basketball on the Red Lake Reservation high school team—even though he can’t help but be constantly gut-punched with memories of his big brother, Jaxon, who died in an accident.

When Jaxon’s former teammates on the varsity team offer to take Tre under their wing, he sees this as his shot to represent his Ojibwe rez all the way to their first state championship. This is the first step toward his dream of playing in the NBA, no matter how much the odds are stacked against him.

But stepping into his brother’s shoes as a star player means that Tre can’t mess up. Not on the court, not at school, and not with his new friend, gamer Khiana, who he is definitely not falling in love with.

After decades of rez teams almost making it, Tre needs to take his team to state. Because if he can live up to Jaxon’s dreams, their story isn’t over yet.

My Thoughts: Forgive me for a second, but I need to gush. I don’t often gush, but I really did love this book and Tre’s story. From the very beginning Byron Graves had me on the edge of my seat. We are dropped right into the final moments of a regional playoff game that means a lot to Tre, his family, and his community. The loss they’ve had makes them want the victory even more than usual. Byron expertly weaves that tension throughout Tre’s year to come and made it so putting down the book was almost impossible.

The structure of the story is that Tre is trying to make the varsity team with the ultimate goal being an NBA spot and one of his friends is making a documentary along the way. It was a clever bit of storytelling because Tre does several interviews for this film and we get to hear his answers to questions that might not be asked in typical daily conversations. The documentary frames the story well.

Aside from the way the story is structured, the setting and community is incredibly vivid. The rez, the high school, and the basketball courts are painted clearly and it feels like I stepped through into this space and time to see and hear the “beautiful chaos” of the game and can appreciate the relationships of everyone involved. This book is going to speak loudly and clearly to those folks who’ve played and/or watched rez ball.

Though Byron Graves was definitely writing to and for Native readers, this story can also speak to others because there are universal themes of pain, loss, community, love, survival, and people striving to thrive. There are difficult situations and many moments of intense pressure on and off the court. I appreciated that there are wins and losses and it’s hard to guess which one is coming. Above all, it all felt real. Life isn’t often as tidy as a Disney or Hallmark movie. Tre is making some excellent choices like his summer training plan and he’s also managing to make some poor choices that create dumpster fires.

He’s surrounded by friends, including one he’d like to have as more than a friend, and family who help him navigate life and bring love, laughter, and sometimes hard truths. HIs parents are still grieving the death of his older brother so it’s a struggle for all concerned, but they are steady. They don’t always see through to his pain, but they give him space and support when they do see past his armor.

Recommendation: Get this as soon as you can. Pre-order. Recommend it to your local library. Do all the things that will get it into your hands and into lots of other hands too. It’s a page turner with a lot of excitement and heart. I will be recommending this one to pretty much anyone. I watched basketball frequently with my father when I was a child, but am not interested enough to watch it on my own as an adult. Nevertheless, I cared about every single game in these pages. Graves pulled me in there and had me in the stands jumping and cheering with the Red Lake Warriors fans.

[holding-hands-and-hearts]

It Was Tuesday

content warning: talk of suicide / suicidal ideation.

They called to tell me you tried to kill yourself on a Tuesday. 

It was so late at night it was long into Wednesday, but for me it was still Tuesday evening, in the way that insomniacs’ schedules simply shift everything a few hours forward and noon is at 6pm. I did the math on the drive over, adding up the hours until the time I picked up the phone. I knew how you’d have done it but couldn’t say who’d found you, and the ambulance was usually pretty quick but the hospital receptionists don’t call until they know whether to give their deepest condolences or just tell you you’d better come in. 

It was the phrase they used that got me, I think. Attempted to take your own life. So casual, like you could just pick it up and walk away with it, and you’d just dropped it somewhere along the way. How is it to hold a life in your hands? Does it squirm between your palms? Or is it docile enough that you can just watch it for a while, trace the pits and scars and broken parts until something tells you that you may as well just trash the whole thing?

They called on a Tuesday, and I was sitting at the kitchen counter doing taxes when the phone rang, my dirty dishes stacked somewhere beyond my W-2. They called me by both names, and I was oddly touched that you’d had me as your emergency contact since before everyone else started saying “doctor” when they addressed me. I can’t believe I still don’t know what I’m doing, I told you after the piece of paper came in the mail, but what’s a PhD supposed to do about that? Turns out education doesn’t exempt you from real life. The doctorate doesn’t do the dishes, and I don’t know why in the world I bothered in the first place. 

Then they told me the ambulance had brought you in unresponsive, said the trauma care team is still working, and I think my brilliant response was “oh”, like I knew what all of that meant beyond the fact that you weren’t dead yet. They said the working assumption was that you’d tried to take your own life, that bizarre little phrase, like the trauma team was trying to pry it back from you as if you were a child trying to hold something you shouldn’t. It wasn’t too far from the truth, probably. 

I should come as soon as possible, they said, and then there was a pause on the other end of the line, and whoever it was staffing the phones at God-knows-what hour the Tuesday night you tried to die asked me if all of that made sense. I burst out laughing. 

I still picture them on the other end of the line, behind some circulation desk in some lobby, holding the receiver a few extra inches away from their ear; they saw someone’s kid in tears because they had to get a flu shot today, an empty-eyed daughter signing her dad’s postmortem, a repeat patient coming to chemo in a ball gown, and now I’m laughing because you’re nearly dead in the next room. It wasn’t until my sides ached and my lungs burned and I’d knocked my W-2 and half the stack of receipts off of the counter that I stopped, and my voice was practically a croak when I said “I’ll be there.”

Nothing’s sure but death and taxes, and it looks like we’re both just doing our best to be certain. 

*******

Do you remember that time you stayed awake with me? I was doing my dissertation, I was always doing that nightmare of a dissertation, determined to pull an all-nighter so I could tell myself I’d done something. You sat in the hard-back kitchen chair two feet away, watching Disney movies and reaching over to squeeze my hand when I stopped typing. Your fingers were warm. 

By four-thirty in the morning you’d finished the Emperor’s New Groove and Tangled and gone most of the way through Wall-E, and I was hungry and cold and hadn’t written eight thousand words in eight hours like I said I would, so you put the cinnamon rolls I’d been saving for an unspecified special occasion in the oven and held a butter knife full of fake cream cheese frosting in front of my nose. I gave up on the dissertation.

I didn’t have a couch, but the sheet set had come with an extra duvet I didn’t need in the spring and my next-door neighbor was a live-laugh-love fanatic who gave away throw pillows like party favors at the end of every season, so we grabbed oven mitts and forks and sat down to eat warm cinnamon rolls straight from the pan. The sun was rising outside my window and the woolen March clouds were positively dreary, but I tangled our ankles together, you laughed when I got cinnamon goop on the end of my nose, and you were so bright and beautiful in the early morning light that I forgot about anything else. 

It was nearly the same time in the morning when I started pacing in the waiting room. The doctors would all come to talk to people who weren’t me, and the tearstained faces of the others who’d waited overnight disappeared one by one, and slowly I was convinced I’d dreamed it. I still smelled cinnamon when I thought of you. I saw the outline of your face in the early morning light, warm hands and sticky fingers on the floor of my stupid apartment, and I remembered thinking so clearly how you were the most beautiful human being I’d ever seen. 

How in the world did you end up here?

I didn’t think anyone could be angry at someone suicidal, but all of a sudden I’m pissed at you, walking so furiously I’ll wear a hole in the stupid industrial carpet. There’s a lady in one of the chairs who looks like she’s lived there for at least the past week, gives me a dirty look as I go by for the six millionth time and I don’t care. They called me on a Tuesday night to tell me you had tried to kill yourself and here I am, so royally furious I want to shake you by the shoulders until you understand how much I hate that you didn’t call me first.

*******

Someone comes to tell me you’re alive when I’m already halfway done planning the funeral. I have this mental image of you upstairs eating Jell-O, and it’s not really you, but I’d take it. The other part of me already knows exactly what you’d look like lying in a morgue, and the dead feeling in the pit of my stomach tells me that that one’s more right. I know you’d hate a church memorial, don’t worry. I know you better than that. 

It’s Wednesday, no longer the morning, just Wednesday, and I ask if you’re okay. They don’t seem to know what to tell me. Visitors aren’t allowed yet, but the cafeteria’s open. 

“Okay,” I say. And I sit. I’m still angry at you. 

When you get out of here, we’re going to make cinnamon rolls. It’ll be sunrise, and maybe the weather’s terrible, and I still don’t have a couch, but I can’t do it without you. I can’t imagine any of this without you. 

*******

[dynamite-derek]

The Best Sort of Sendoff

Note: This article contains spoilers for Like a Dragon: Infinite Wealth. For reference, I am in Chapter 10 of the game right now, so this won't contain end-game spoilers. This is instead a look at what happens in the "Memoirs of a Dragon" portion of the game. It's risky writing this before I finish playing, after all this is the franchise that used rubber bullets as a plot twist, but I have faith in the writers to not suddenly drop the ball.

In most films in the Rocky franchise after the first two, there would be a scene where Rocky looks back on his past and you get a great montage of scenes. They would show his triumphs, his hardships and generally make you feel good for following his story up to this point. I would like to think this is because Sylvester Stallone never knew when the final Rocky movie was actually going to be. Rocky Balboa was a legendary character, the movie's world isn't the only thing bidding farewell to him - the audience is too.

Saying goodbye to a character the audience has spent a lot of time with is a tricky thing to do. One of the main complaints about the Disney Star Wars films are how they treat characters from the original trilogy. Return of the Jedi had a pretty happy ending for the main cast but fast forward to the sequel trilogy and everybody is miserable, their lives suck and they die in a way that left a lot of people feeling unfulfilled. Regardless of what you think about the quality of these films, the treatment of these characters is a gigantic reason the reception towards them is so chilled.

The Like a Dragon franchise has not had Kazuma Kiryu as its main protagonist for two games now. Yakuza: Like a Dragon, the seventh entry in the franchise, replaced him with a character that feels like his polar opposite. Kiryu is stoic and keeps a lot of things internalized, Ichiban Kasuga is loud and personable and wears his heart on his sleeve. They both come across as good people but in different ways. Kiryu did get to show up in that seventh entry, but he felt like more of a cameo role. It was like getting to spend one more afternoon with the living legend. It wasn't his show anymore, but he was around.

Little did we know when playing those games that Kiryu would get a farewell tour. Like a Dragon Gaiden: The Man Who Erased His Name kicked this all off with a nice little side story about Kiryu living life as a man who is supposed to be dead. It's mostly a standalone piece, but the references to Kiryu's past adventures come hitting hard and fast at the very end. I wrote that the ending to that game is a masterclass in video game storytelling and I stand by that - if you've stuck with Kiryu through all his adventures so far, it is one of the best scenes the medium has ever conveyed.

There wasn't a sense of finality though. That title ended with Kiryu saying he wanted to live a little bit for himself. He was already a major part of the ad campaign for the eighth entry in the franchise, Like a Dragon: Infinite Wealth, so there was no feeling that we were saying farewell to this guy. In a sense, we would be getting a new chapter for this legendary figure. Rocky Balboa would be getting one final fight in that ring.

Infinite Wealth gives you that finality. Kiryu shows up and it is revealed that he has cancer and only has months to live. While he is still an imposing and larger than life figure, his time on this earth is up. He doesn't seem too bothered about it though. The audience might be going like "hey dude, why don't you reconnect with Haruka or something?" but the man himself just wants to accomplish this last mission he is on and die in peace. You spend a long time in Infinite Wealth going around Hawaii with the future and past of the franchise yucking it up and it just feels great. Chocolate and Peanut Butter together at last!

At some point in the game, Kiryu's illness gets the better of him and he is sent back to Japan to take it easier. Given that he has months to live, he shouldn't be fighting baddies with Kasuga all day and night, he should be resting. Who knows, he may have more time than he thinks! At this point, the game decides to start letting the player say goodbye to this character. Your party and Kiryu's old friend Makoto Date note that the dragon of Dojima has spent the majority of his life looking out for others and should really spend his last moments doing something for himself. That's right, Kiryu gets to star in the hit 2007 film "The Bucket List"

The game then opens up a bit of story called "memoirs of a dragon" as part of this bucket list. You guide Kiryu to a bunch of locations in Japan, both in Ijincho and the very familiar Kamurocho, and relive all sorts of things. It's one thing seeing the gate in front of Tenkaichi Street and going 'oh yeah, I've seen that gate before, it's in every single one of these stinkin' games,' it's another thing to have your main character reminisce about this and what it means to him. Sure, a lot of time media can best convey emotions by showing and not telling, but hearing your fading protagonist talk about the old days gives you more insight into those things and can help the player feel a little bit more.

These scenes vary greatly in their emotional impact. Some of them are goofy, with call backs to side games like Yakuza Dead Souls or Like a Dragon: Ishin. Some of them are sweet, with our protagonist talking about characters who don't even seem to appear in this game like Goro Majima or Taiga Saejima or Shun Akiyama. If you played past Yakuza games, you know who these guys are and it's nice to see them acknowledged in some way even if they don't play a major role here. You remember them and Kiryu does too. This is a memory of his life, not just a memory of what you experienced in Infinite Wealth to this point.

At some point, Kiryu's friend Date decides that this whole process needs to get a little more personal. You see, the Dragon of Dojima is supposed to be a dead man. He fakes his own death in order to protect his loved ones because he was privy to some government secrets that put everyone in danger. So Date decides to gather some people and have Kiryu sort of listen in on their conversations so he can see how they're doing without him. The conversation almost always circle back to Kiryu and how awesome he is (was), so it can feel a bit like Tom Sawyer listening in on his own funeral, but it's sweet hearing people give their thoughts nonetheless.

Sometimes Kiryu will interact with these people, but he never actually explicitly says who he is. He'll say he's Taichi Suzuki and leave it at that. You get the impression that everybody knows it's really him, so they'll say really emotional things that start with phrases like "well if he was here, I'd say something like..." It's just very sweet to get a sense of closure with characters that normally would just be one and done. You never got to see Rocky Balboa get one more chat with Clubber Lang well after the fact, but longtime minor foe Lau Ka Long sure as hell gets one final moment to see the legendary yakuza one more time.

All of these scenes are a really nice look back on this guy's life. The player gets to be privy to a lot of introspection and dialogue they normally wouldn't get to be a part of. The best part of this is, you never get the impression Kiryu is a miserable person who isn't ready to go out. He instead goes with the approach of "I thought I had finished all I needed to do, but getting this extra closure has been really nice." It's incredibly sweet to see orphan boy Taichi as a grownup and doing well for himself. As players, we saw this fella when he was just a little brat at the orphanage. Kiryu put on a wrestling match for him! The last time Kiryu saw him was when he was a child too, so this little scene is great because both the protagonist and the player get to see this long gone character and go "his life seems pretty neat."

Probably the most impactful scene I had gotten to at this point would be Kiryu seeing Kaoru Sayama one final time. For those that don't remember, Sayama was Kiryu's love interest in the second Yakuza title and the two of them ended up parting ways because of different goals in life. It was always sad to me, personally, as a player that she got written off and just vanished into the void but here she was once again. And yeah, her life is going great! She's working hard to help ensure that the youth don't go down the wrong path, she made a good life for herself in America.

But Date hones in on her lack of a wedding ring and it is revealed that, yeah, she keeps kinda busy so it's hard to find someone. But also a part of her wants to stay available just in case Kiryu really is alive, as a lot of people whisper in the underground. Date almost lets it spill that well he's actually still there, but Kiryu (communicating via secret spy headset so he can listen in) stops him and says it's not necessary. Later on he says something like "to know she still cares is more than enough for me" and that his current situation would just make things worse for her. He isn't regretting his past choice of parting from her here, he is instead appreciative of the person she has become.

Being able to see and hear all of the impact this character has had is really something special. You've spent hundreds of hours as Kiryu talking to all these characters. You're not only saying goodbye to this legendary video game character, you are also saying goodbye to his world and the people he cared about. This isn't just a farewell to Kiryu, it's a farewell to the old.

By not portraying Kiryu as a miserable sadsack on death's door but instead showing him as a man ready to face death head on, the writers of this title really make this feel like an excellent farewell. He doesn't need to be in a Wonderful Life scenario where everyone tells him how important he is, but he gets to experience it anyway and appreciate it. It's a final gift for a man on his way out. These characters aren't trying to redeem Kiryu or make you see him in a different way, they are simply reaffirming what you the player already know: that he's awesome.

We will probably never see a character get as great of a sendoff as this again. There will not be an Uncharted game in 10 years where you get to revisit all the old characters and see where life has taken them. So appreciate this for what it is - another great example of storytelling in video games.

[dearweirdme]

I feel sad for Tae, this is obviously a stunt and I doubt he agreed to do it for clout and exposure, he didn't seem happy to do it and he is not feeding it in any way so that leave of some other options, I think it was more about providing a cover for tk, I don't think it's a coincidence that it happened just before both of their solo debut, jk's being international makes things more high scale too, so jk is also benefiting from this without dealing personally with the hard stuff, I won't argue that this has made tae even more popular but he's being attacked constantly, people making everything about him about this woman and prepared to make his hard work about her too, calling him a coward and making fun of him with 5k likes, always being on the news bc of "dating" it's also not necessarily a good thing, your fans calling you a liar and thinking that you are ball less when you are one of the bravest ppl out there mustn't be nice, ppl insulting even his family and this situation created a bunch of ppl obsessed with his privacy and personal life, like some army won't admit it on public but they have whole gcs for gossipping and he is the focus, and all bc yg and hybe are using him for this media circus, and this all before caring about his artistry and considering how Tae has been acting like him posting that wake up song tht has a clear message just after the Bruno Mars concerts when all the social media rockus was about tn, him coming out of the airport and doing a live immediately to show us that he is alone....yeah I doubt this doesn't bother him at least a bit, he is someone with a lot of integrity, what I'm saying is that it pains me to see the situation and it started to annoy me to see everyone benefit from it, jennie and YG, jennie is being victimized big time in twitter and every critisism done to her about stuff like her actions and lack of effort in concerts it's pin down to ppl 'jealousy' of her dating Tae, no critisism is valid now even the ones coming from her own fans and ppl are super defensive of her, even more than before, and jk too....this lifted some of the gay rumors just in time for his international debut ( I don't think this is coincidental) and I know this bc when Jennie dropped those pics so many comments from different accounts not even armys or shippers were ppl cheering bc 'tk is so not real' and ppl thinking in what should be just a typical gay kpop ship first thing everytime those rumors break tells me that deep down a lot of ppl thought or feared that there was some truth in tk and are relieved and happy that it's being 'debunked', I guess this is part the goal, a bit of protection for the both of them but yeah I don't like it that's Tae just dealing with all the bad stuff and jk only getting the benefits, at least that's how it looks bc obviously we don't how he feels emotionally but facts are facts and the one dealing with the worst of all is taehyung, lots of new ot6 accounts, ppl didn't leave jk bc of this rumor as much as tae, ppl aren't calling him liar and a pussy in mass scale, he doesn't have to see his face on the news bc of dating rumors, he is seeing it bc of the success of his music that hybe pushed ( which I think it's really deserved bc he has worked hard his whole life) but things don't look fair to me in regards of Tae,how fitting it was Tae saying that he would take the responsibility sometimes I wonder if that's the dynamic of their relationship.

Hi anon!

Yeah, this is the worst part of being in showbizz really. I agree that Tae probably isn’t unaffected by this, though I hope he has maintained a bit of distance from social media. The way it looks now, I think he agreed because it’s a fairly short stunt (only one walk for him, and the rest is mostly done by fandom) and it probably allows him more freedom in the long run. I feel his post with the Disney hoody is rather pointed. Reclaiming his true self a bit. I don’t think it’s been mainly to hide Taekook, but rather to make it seem that he (also) dates women. I’m quite curious to see how the launch of his album will go (in general, but also regarding this).

I don’t agree that Jk benefits from this without doing anything himself. Jk has been deemed ‘straight’ the last couple of weeks because of Seven. He didn’t need Tae to do Taennie, since to most of fandom and the general public Tae and him are just friends. They’ve successfully hidden that way for years now, and only now something like this is happening. I really suspect it’s because of Tae’s album, and because he wants to be able to be more himself in general. People are sadly enough more inclined to accept/ignore a hint of queerness when a man very publicly dates a woman. We’ll see soon I suppose, since his album is probably going to be released soon.

I think Tae and Jk are very connected. Jk’s tears when Tae’s grandmother died tells me that he is not immune to Tae’s hurt at all. I therefore think that Jk will also have hurt because of this Taennie thing. If not for himself it will have been for Tae. There’s no benefit in standing by while your partner is rumored/shipped with someone else. That hurts! Jk is also a very feeling, emotional person.. it took him quite some days to come on live again after the Paris stuff. You don’t come this far in a relationship (that is already complicated) by letting one person carry the brunt of it.

[thewistlingbadger]

The owl house is NOT the best animated show that Disney channel has ever made.

Disclaimer: This is an opinion piece and does not mean to actually invalidate anyone else's opinion, this is just mine.

The owl house is a good show that is beloved by many. And why wouldn't it be? The animation is Stellar, the voice acting is phenomenal, it's incredibly diverse, has dark themes, and manages to incorporate new ideas into the fantasy genre that has mainly been hogged by a book series that was released over a decade ago (if you know you know). I hear a lot of people say that this is the best show Disney has ever made, but I fail to agree with this claim.

As much of a good show the owl house is, it drops the ball when it comes to story (sometimes, not all the time s2 is the best). Most people combat this by saying that the show is canceled early, which is true. However, the show was canceled when the finale of season 2 was in place, giving the writers and the creators much time to contemplate how to work out season 3. Each episode of season 3 is also twice the length of a normal episode, so they were given more time to flush out more things (you could also consider it to be six episodes instead of three due to the run time).

Instead of using this opportunity to their advantage to finish out the show and the most satisfying way possible that they could with their means, they opted with trying to rush the story into something that was more safe and more along the lines of fan service. Was that a bad choice? Not necessarily but I find it hard to say that a show is the best when it had to resort to tactics like these.

Episode 1 of season 3 is by far the best episode in the entire season. It gets the most done with the time it had, is narratively satisfying, and also presents new concepts. These new concepts as well as concepts that were established in prior seasons, end up being dropped at season 3 progresses. For example: episode 1 of season 3 presents the struggle that Luz has with going back to the demon Realm. It is revealed that she intends to go back to the human realm when this is all over and break up with Amity. Of course, this never happens. Not because between episode 1 and episode 3 Luz has significant development, but because that's the most satisfying ending for the fans. (I'm not counting the "all I ever wanted was to be understood" as significant development btw). Another concept from season 3 is the character of Evelyn, which is just another question that goes unanswered. Not because they didn't have time, but because they used their limited time to wrap up the show to work on other things that ultimately had no effect on the end of the show (ex: Willow's last minute character development).

So if I don't think the owl house is the best Disney animated show, then what do I think it is? Gravity falls. Gravity falls was a tightly knit show that ended almost a decade after the owl house. The owl house and Gravity falls have a lot of overlap. They're both about a teenager who moves to a new and strange place where they make friends, enemies, and intend to uncover the secrets of the place. Dana even worked on Gravity falls! The main difference between the two however, is that gravity falls knew what it was doing the whole time, and the owl house didn't. Alex Hirsch had the story of gravity falls completely thought out from the beginning. Disney even asked him for another season, but he refused because he knew what he was doing and what he wanted.

In conclusion: the owl house is not the best Disney channel animated show because it fails to wrap up all thoughts and ideas that were intentionally left unanswered due to poor planning and unfortunate circumstances. Gravity falls is better because it does everything that the owl house does, but actually delivers on it's promises.

[angeflrs]

Flufftober — Day 02: First Date.

Pairing: Max Goof / Yakko Warner.

Fandoms: Animaniacs, A Goofy Movie (Disney), Ducktales 2017 (Disney).

Word Count: 959.

Versión Español: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50488909/chapters/127630225#workskin

LouLou: don't forget that tomorrow we will see the new episode of Roman Empire II I know, Lou jsjs Who knows what would happen if I miss it /s I have to go now xoxo LouLou: First, yuck.  LouLou: Second, good luck on your date.

***

Max looked at his phone one last time, a fond smile though on his muzzle as he quickly put it back in his pocket and looked at his date next to him.

He still felt like he was in a dream, an incredible dream where the funniest and most unique guy had accepted a date with him.

He couldn't help but admire the outfit he had decided to wear today, although the mere fact that he was wearing something other than those smoky topaz pants and lavender polo shirt already made him feel so special that it was hard to keep his tail still. Today, however, he was wearing a mustard-colored Top T-shirt with a Darkwing Duck print with jean pants with a calf-length hem. Overall it was simple, but Max couldn't help but think that he looked so cute.

“You're going to like this place. It’s like a vegan ice cream parlor.” Max said, once he managed to take his eyes off Yakko to see that they were reaching his destination.

“vegan?” Yakko tilted his head with a curious look.

Max stopped when he arrived at the place, a humble place with pastel colors and an eighties style. He steps in front of Yakko, opening the door and holding it for him. That made Yakko's cheeks turn pink as he entered first.

“They make the ice creams with completely lactose-free milk, the standard is almond milk, but if you are allergic, they have options with soy milk.” he explained, as they both approached the register and the employee who was smiling at them.

Yakko perked up. "That sounds great."

The employee across the bar took this opportunity to speak.

“Good afternoon, what would you like to order? We have a promotion today: Three-ball cup. You can choose the flavor you want from our options and when you finish you can take the cup home.” The boy raised his hand, showing the screens above him with the promotions, he pointed out where the cup with ice cream of different flavors was and in the corner the price.

“Oh, Dot would like to drink grape juice there to look fancy, shall we order that?” Asking, Yakko turned to Max for an answer.

"Sure." Max nodded at Yakko and quickly looked back at the employee. “Two cups please.”

The employee nodded back and then pointed to the other side of the bar where the trays of ice cream flavors are displayed. “Choose your flavors.”

Yakko quickly walked over to look at each flavor, his hand holding his chin while the other rested on his hip. Meanwhile, Max took out his wallet and paid for the ice cream beforehand.

When he joined Yakko, he was still struggling, his bean eyes narrowed in a look of pure, adorable concentration.

Max took a moment to appreciate the view and then looked at the flavors. “For me… Oreo, vanilla and tiramisu.”

The boy who served them began to pour Max's drink when Yakko finally decided. “mint, chocolate and caramel please.”

They received their glasses with a spoon and found an empty table by the front window. They ate the first fifteen minutes in silence, Max fascinated by Yakko's expressions as he took his first bite of each flavor as if it were the most delicious thing in the world.

“so, this is your first date?” 

The sudden question caught Max a little off guard, almost dropping the ice cream off his spoon before putting it in his mouth.

He thought about it while he ate, looking out the window at the people passing by on the street.

“Well, I had a girlfriend in high school, we dated during the summer of our senior year, but when she started college she left the country, a week later we realized that it wasn't worth staying at a distance and we left it as friends.”

Yakko ponders for a moment, before asking another question. “And how was your first date with her?”

“Do you really want to know that?” Max raised an eyebrow.

The other shrugged, “I'm curious, sue me.” taking a spoonful of mint and putting it in your mouth.

Max was quiet for a moment, before smiling sideways without looking at Yakko. “I took her to a special ice cream shop.” He barely finished the sentence, covering his face and trying to dodge the napkins that were thrown at him while he laughed. Once calmed down, he spoke again. “I actually took her to the cinema. I was so nervous that I couldn't remember anything about the movie when it was over, the next day I came back alone just to watch it again."

There was silence at the table after that, although it wasn't awkward or heavy so Max saw no need to worry. He ate more of his ice cream until he had less than half left when Yakko spoke again.

“You don't look nervous now.” His voice was softer, not accusatory, but inquisitive.

Max smiled, looking Yakko in the eyes. “I was nervous when I asked you out because I didn't know if you would say yes, but you make me feel calm, I feel like myself when I am with you.”

Yakko's cheeks flushed red before he lowered his gaze shyly. “I think the opposite happens to me.”

Max tilted his head, a gesture associated with a confused but still cheerful puppy. "in a good way?"

Yakko laughed, his black eyes having a special sparkle in them. "In a good way. You bring out a side in me that I didn't even know and I like it.”

"I like it too. I like everything about you, in fact.”

[loopy777]

Ultimately the problem with the whole AFO and OFA BS is that they just go too powerful for their setting.

AFO far moreso though.

The two single worst problems battle shonen manga and anime has in terms of combat, is regeneration, and super durability.

Regeneration is the fucking worst, because it means that the character can just take damage after damage, after damage and get back on their feet, until suddenly THIS new attack is for all the marbles. There's nothing wrong with a healing factor that allows speedy recovery, but when everything can be healed up in a minute or instantly, it never fucking works.

The ONLY way to do a villain with regenerating as one of their main features, is if there is some sort of weakness that shuts the regeneration off cold, like Heracles burning the Hydra's head stumps, order of the stick dealing with a hydra by letting it grow too many heads for it to function, or Disney's Hercules to drop that mountainside on top of it, crushing the entire beast, and not just the Hydra's heads.

Meanwhile there is the invulnerable villain, that will take stupidly powerful attacks, and then the dust cleared and they were completely fine and unharmed.

This was popularized by Dragon Ball, and unfortunately became a mainstay of that series, but at least DB has the advantage that the characters in that series has the excuse that they became stronger than most real life religious pantheon's as the series went on. The fact god like beings can shrug off bullets or low level lasers kinda makes sense.

In fact one of the dumbest moments in the terrible sequel Dragon ball super, is when one of the strongest beings in existence is shot through the chest by a common ass laserbeam, which might sound fine on paper, but the rules of the universe at that point had so clearily established that it wouldn't work, so when it did it just made everyone facepalm.

Mha though, is not a series about the exploit of godlike beings. It's a series of what is the superhero equivalent of a low fantasy series, where while there was incredible power and force thrown around by the likes of all might and AFO, injuries(barring that damn regeneration quirk) actually mattered.

Compare Shigaraki's beating in the war arc, and how he left that fight as a broken shell, with the way every single character has been throwing everything at him and AFO and you see how the way battle has shifted so hard.

To be blunt, hori wrote himself into a corner by giving the villain group so few actual henchmen compared to the heroes, which means that now at the endgame, other than a chosen few MC's, EVERYONE has to be fighting AFO or Shigaraki.

And it doesn't help that the manga devoted way too damn much time to the wrong things too.

The entire fight at the flying school ended up being a complete nothing burger where the heroes weren't able to score a single good hit in, in exchange for bakugo maybe dying, and Mirko losing more limbs, and everyone else taking a beating.

There is a very, very specific fight from dragon ball that this sequence was trying to copy, a fight against a character called nappa, where the heroes are just trying to buy time for the MC Goku to show up.

And that worked. The crew vs Nappa is a great fight, but the reason it worked was because it was used to drive home the point of just how fucking screwed the heroes were.

Every single one of those guys except for two of the weaker members, died in that battle, and that was the entire point. They went to their deaths just to buy some time, and the entire narrative was framed around that fact.

The problem with the sky fight is that it did not successfully frame it in the same way, just copying the steps, without understanding the tempo or music that made those steps work to begin with.

Goku returning at the end was a glorious moment in dragon ball, the triumphant return of our hero, the proof that the cast's sacrifices were not in vain, and even after that, the two surviving characters from the nappa fight went on to play immense importance in the follow up fight as Nappa is defeated, and his buddy and boss Vegeta takes center stage to fight Goku head on.

By contrast, Izuku showing up at the end has none of that weight. It's not a glorious turning point, it's just another step of a fight that is already dragging on way, way too long.

The way to fix this is simple.

Characters REALLY needed to die in this fight, and they needed to have spectacular deaths. As old Julio scoundrel said, it doesnt matter if you win or lose... So long as you look really cool doing it.

They needed to get in solid, genuine hits that clearly affected Shigaraki, all the while the realization that pretty much all of them were going to die here began to set in with every single death... And yet marching on anyway. By not havi

I'll be honest, if i had been writing this story, i would have killed off every single hero in that fight other than lemellion, Mirko(Her giving up all her limbs in exchange for holding off Shigaraki for just a while longer works just fine, it just needed better focus) and maybe anteater.

As for the whole AFO shit, the problem ultimately is the same, only here there is a much easier, and less bloody solution. Take away his limbs for each hero encounter.

AFO is living on borrowed time anyway at this point... So why not embrace that? Have him take these stupidly enormous hits... And it actually does ginormous damage to him. By the time he reaches All Might, he should be on his last metaphorical legs, one arm, no legs, one eye, etc. All the while he regresses in age.

These changes would fix all the problems, but it would have given the big, slog that is the final battle here some much needed progress, rather than endless, no progress battle, after endless no progress battle.

Well, I admit I'm not as down on it all as you are, as I have been enjoying the individual character moments, even if the battle has kind of been treading water. But I'm not sure I agree with your proposed solutions.

Having more mooks probably would have had diminishing returns, as there are only so many characters who can be developed into something worthwhile in a story with an already large cast, so that defeating them will feel properly triumphant. As it is, I don't think I've ever cared about Spinner.

And killing people off would make the final fight feel more epic and worthwhile, but I think it would undermine the more important part of the story, that of the next and better generation inheriting the world and trying to do better. If the whole next generation is dead, it doesn't matter that Deku survives and is the greatest hero, because we saw that making a single person the Symbol of Peace isn't sustainable. Given a choice, I'd trim the fight rather than lose out on that theme. But I do like that all the students get a chance to get a hit in on OFA, even if it's not effective; they're participants in striking back against the shadow of the legacy of the previous generation.

My own proposed solution is to scrap the idea of a giant fight altogether. Have a complicated mission where everyone's powers are needed to find the Thing that will turn off OFA's power so that someone can one-shot him. Thus they all get to contribute, and we can throw in some nice battle moments for people while keeping up a propulsive heist-style mission.

But I think the Shonen Jump editors would fire me for that, so what do I know? To paraphrase a business adage I've heard, "No one ever got fired for hiring IBM imitating a decades-spanning hit manga/anime franchise."