#hero homes phase 2

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Plot Method

The Save the Cat! Beat Sheet was originally developed by Blake Snyder to help screenwriters plot movies, but it works just as well with novels.

It breaks down the 3-act structure into small, specific sections (sometimes just one scene long).

Each section pushes your story forward in its own way.

The exact word count/page count of each section depends on how long your novel is and what type of story you’re telling, but you can use the colored chart below and the percentages in the instructions as a guide. 

Context Note: This method is based on the concept of the Three Act Structure, which is an inherently Western approach to plot. It can be a useful way to tell a story, but it is by no means the only one.

ACT 1

Opening Image (0-1%)

Show a “before” snapshot of your protagonist and their world.

What is life like before the adventure begins?

It represents the struggle & tone of the story.

Set-up (1-10%)

Expand on the “before” snapshot.

Explore your protagonist’s life, including the internal flaws and external challenges they’ll have to overcome in order to change for the better by the end of the story.

Present the main character’s world as it is, and what is missing in their life.

Also introduce important supporting characters.

Theme Stated (happens during the Set-up)

What your story is about; the message, the truth.

Usually, it is spoken to the main character or in their presence, but they don’t understand the truth/lesson…not until later, when they have some personal experience and context to support it.

Thus, include a scene where a character says something that hints at what the protagonist’s big life lesson will be - how they’ll have to change and grow by the end of the story.

Catalyst (10%)

The moment where life as it is changes.

Examples: It is the telegram, the act of catching your loved-one cheating, allowing a monster onboard the ship, meeting the true love of your life, etc.

There’s no going back to the “before” world from here… What is the inciting incident that pushes the protagonist into the next phase of the story?

Debate (11-20%)

But change is scary and for a moment, or a brief number of moments, the main character doubts the journey they must take.

Show the protagonist questioning themselves and resisting the path ahead - wondering whether they have what it takes, or whether or they should just run home and hide under the bed.

“Should I just…?” “I really shouldn’t because…” “But what about…” Can I face this challenge? Do I have what it takes? Should I go at all?

It is the last chance for the hero to chicken out.

ACT 2

Break Into 2 (20%; Choosing Act Two)

The main character makes a choice and the journey begins.

We leave the “Thesis” world and enter the upside-down, opposite world of Act 2.

They make the choice to begin their adventure/transformation/journey/new thing.

Show your protagonist deciding to plunge into Act 2.

The Promise of the Premise (21-50%)

This is when the reader thinks “Ah, now we’re getting to the good stuff they hinted at on the back cover of this book!”

It’s also one of the longest sections in your book.

Show your protagonist getting used to their new world - loving it, hating it, making mistakes or doing well, meeting new people (see more below) and keeping the reader entertained.

This is when the main character explores the new world and the audience is entertained by the premise they have been promised.

B Story (happens during The Promise of the Premise)

This is when there’s a discussion about the Theme – the nugget of truth.

Usually, this discussion is between the main character and the love interest.

So, the B Story is usually called the “love story”.

Introduce a new character or characters who will eventually help the protagonist learn their life lesson.

Friends? Mentors? Love interests? Nemeses (nemesi?)? Who are they? How will they help?

Midpoint (50%)

This moment is when everything seems “great” or everything seems “awful,” depending on your story.

The main character either gets everything they think they want (“great”) or doesn’t get what they think they want at all (“awful”).

Either the Fun and Games section has lead to a false victory for your protagonist (they think they’ve been doing great so far) or a false defeat (they’ve been having a hard time so far).

What happens in this moment, halfway between beginning and end?

But not everything we think we want is what we actually need in the end.

Bad Guys Close In (51-75%)

Get ready for a bumpy ride. If your Midpoint was a false victory, now things start to go wrong for your protagonist.

If the Midpoint was a false defeat, well, things seem to be looking up, but the bad guys are getting closer and will have something to say.

Note: Bad guys can be actual physical enemies, but they can also be emotional enemies, like doubt or jealousy or fear.

Doubt, jealousy, fear, foes both physical and emotional regroup to defeat the main character’s goal, and the main character’s “great”/“awful” situation disintegrates.

Show the protagonist’s newly-built world beginning to unravel.

This will also be one of the longer sections in your novel.

All is Lost (75%)

This is when something happens to make your character hit rock bottom.

It’s the absolute lowest part of your novel.

Maybe someone or something dies (either literally or figuratively).

The initial goal now looks even more impossible than before. And here, something or someone dies.

It can be physical or emotional, but the death of something old makes way for something new to be born.

What does this moment look like for your protagonist?

Dark Night of the Soul (76-80%)

Your protagonist now has time to react to their “All is lost” moment, to mourn what they lost and wallow in hopelessness.

They’re worse off than they were at the beginning of the novel.

Show how low things have gotten.

Mourning the loss of what has “died” – the dream, the goal, the mentor character, the love of your life, etc.

But, you must fall completely before you can pick yourself back up and try again.

ACT 3

Break Into 3 (80%; Choosing Act Three)

The “aha!” moment; the “lift yourself up and try again” moment.

Show the protagonist realizing what they need to do in order to tackle their problems, both external and internal.

Thanks to a fresh idea, new inspiration, or last-minute Thematic advice from the B Story (usually the love interest), the main character chooses to try again.

Finale (81-99%)

The protagonist does what they decided to do in the Break Intro 3 beat, and (because of all the learning/growing they’ve done and the support or insight from the B Story), their plan works.

This time around, the main character incorporates the Theme – the nugget of truth that now makes sense to them – into their fight for the goal because they have experience from the A Story and context from the B Story.

The Bad Guys are defeated, the world is changed for the better.

What are the battles? How will the protagonist triumph (or not)?

This is another longer section, so you’ve got the space to make things dramatic and intense.

Act Three is about Synthesis.

Final Image (99-100%)

This is the opposite of the Opening Image, the “after” snapshot instead of the “before.”

Show the reader how the protagonist and their world have changed.

THE END

Sources: 1 2

[icanseethefuture333]

PAC: What good luck is coming your way?⋆｡.°•✩

‘I’m so lucky

I’m a star

But I cry, cry, cry in my lonely heart, thinkin’

“If there’s nothin’ missin’ in my life

Then why do these tears come at night?”’

Pile 1:

Shufflemancy -

Potential Breakup Song by Aly & AJ

Best Friend’s Brother by Victoria Justice

(There’s Gotta Be) More To Life by Stacie Orrico

Discipline, Courage, Freedom, Communication, Twin Flame, Talking, Family, Plan A Vacation, Two of Air (Equilibrium), Daughter of Air, & Nine of Cups

The good luck that’s coming to your life, pile 1, is balance, confidence, and stability. Some of you could have Libra or Taurus placements. You could have had a rocky upbringing in life but it didn’t stop you from becoming the individual you are today. You could be a very loving person and have a lot to give to others. You may dim yourself down and feel that you are not all that special and often put others on a pedestal, whether that’s a family member, friend, celebrity, or partner. You need to see what’s special inside of you. The grass isn’t always greener on the other side, dear. Some of you could have a very close relationship with your parents or grandparents. I’m having a vision of a little kid running to their guardian for comfort and receiving hugs. This is a message for some of you - you guys should visit your old childhood home for abundance or need to call your parents and rekindle the relationship you had with them, they miss you very much. If you have inner child wounds from your family, you need to resolve them in order to make progress. Don’t get stuck in this current phase of your life, you need to embrace change and new beginnings. I’m seeing that there is an intense connection with a romantic interest. Some of you might be in a stagnant relationship that is not benefiting you and it is hindering your growth, I think it would be best if stay single for a while. You are growing up and you are changing, that is a good thing! Some of you have a crush on someone and you are wishing to express your feelings, I see that if you talk to this person, things could actually go very well! Although, you must focus on making yourself happy first before seeking this person. Again, you need to focus on self love first. When is the last time you did something for yourself, pile 1? Make the choice today to be the hero you always needed. Be brave, pile 1. Some of you as a child might of loved the movie Starstruck and Princess Protection Program. You should watch these films to hear the messages in them, they might give you guidance. A father figure in your life may also provide clarity for what you have been feeling. Try to reflect on the relationship you had with your parents and how that results in your relationships with others. A lesson is needed to be learned at that time, once it is completed, you will notice a drastic transformation in your friendships and romantic life. You are going to be secure with who you are as a person and won’t feel the need for others to complete a part of yourself that was feeling empty. Additionally, some of you are wishing to make a bold move. Are you wishing to travel? Take a vacation? A trip to a place you always wanted to go? Now is a good time to do so. Crossroads could be an important film and may resonate with your situation.

Affirmations:

“I can accomplish what I set my mind to”

“I find the inner strength to face fear with confidence”

Pile 2:

Shufflemancy -

Superstar by Jamelia

Love Don’t Cost A Thing by Jennifer Lopez

Whatever You Like by T.I

Loneliness, Love, Money, Courting, Cassette, Love Call, The Star, Ten of Water (Repletion), & Mother of Water

Your good luck charm, pile 2, is the charm of love, fortune, and gifts. There is someone who wishes to come into your life and spoil you. I feel that you are independent and successful in your endeavors. You are good with your finances and you may look high maintenance in appearance (you may own luxury, brand name items, or your style is just very prissy n pretty). You have an admirer that really appreciates how you carry yourself as an individual and has great respect for your accomplishments. I’m reminded of the lyrics from the song She Got Her Own by Ne-Yo ft Jamie Foxx & Fabolous:

“Knowin’ she can do for herself

Makes me wanna give her my wealth”

When this person approaches you, you will look at them like they’re crazy. You might even be offended when they offer you help or try to do chivalrous things. Do not block your blessing, this person can give you access to bigger career opportunities. You have to release your outdated beliefs. I understand you are trying to protect your heart and peace of mind, but how can you make progress in your desired career field without connections? Your spirit guides know you have expensive taste and that you won’t be the only one capable of funding that lifestyle. I’m getting Nara Smith and Lucky Blue Smith vibes. They are both working individuals but Lucky spoils Nara with gifts like designer bags and luxurious items. You give off WAG and video vixen vibes, pile 2. Your beauty is reminiscent of Meagan Good, Christina Milian, Lee Hyori, & Vanessa Bryant in the early 2000s. You could have received a lot of envy from others growing up and was always in the center of gossip. People’s consistent haterade being thrown at you has made you isolate yourself, you were never lonely because you had to be your own best friend. Some of the people who picked this pile were bullied growing up or had a hard time making friends. You are strong and confident but constantly having your guard up out of fear of being hurt is making you miss out on life. Princess and The Frog may be a very significant film that you need to watch. Tiana was hard working and had dreams of opening a restaurant so much that it made her miss out on having fun and spending time with other people, as well as using work as a coping mechanism to cope with her father’s death. It becomes unhealthy when you have the assumption that most people are inherently evil and focusing all your attention on work, allow yourself to make connections with others and have fun every once in a while. It won’t kill ya to take a break, money isn’t the source of all happiness. Changing your mindset would attract more positive interactions within the workplace, college, and in your interpersonal relationships. You know you have great qualities so try to showcase this when having a conversation. Also smile! You have cute facial expressions when you’re not making a RBF lol. You may have a hustler mindset because of being poor as a child but this does not reflect your current reality, pile 2. Some of you may also be pursuing an education, taking courses regarding your culture could provide you with some insight. Turn to your ancestors for strength and wisdom on making the right choices regarding love. You are divinely protected either way so misfortune is not at all in your destiny!

Affirmations:

“I know that I am never alone”

“I commit to the practice of seeing good in all things”

Pile 3:

Shufflemancy -

Stereo Love by Edward Maya ft. Vika Jigulina

Electric Feel by MGMT

Who Said by Miley Cyrus

Judgment, Pride, Past Life, Ice King, Karmic Relationship, The Snake, Five of Air (Conflict), Four of Fire (Perfection), & Mother of Air

Pile 3, with the lucky girl syndrome~ I see that you will be releasing yourself from other people's expectations and instead will pursue your desires. You could have grew up in a strict household and had family members who believed that being successful, wealthy, and having good grades was more important that self expression and being "happy". Financial security was prioritized over emotions and this had left your heart cold. You could be someone who has a hard time expressing their feelings and can be quite feisty when engaging in conversations. I see that you have always wanted to be more of the rebellious one or had to be rebellious in secret. The Bratz movie could be very significant to this pile, you might relate to one of the girls or one of the Bratz is your favorite doll (Jade, Sasha, Yasmin, or Cloe). I also see The Game Plan and Herbie - Fully Loaded for some of you were your comfort movies as a child. Growing up, you might of changed your clothes after your parents dropped you off at school or got dress coded often by your teachers/principal. You could have felt insecure as a child for not being able to dress like the other kids or not being allowed to wear a makeup. You have the power, pile 3. You are no longer this child anymore, this might hurt knowing you never got to experience the same emotional fulfillment other teens/adults did as children, but the good news is you have so much time to make up for it now! Take the initiative today and write down all things you never got to do but always wanted to have and start making a list of methods you could use to make this possible. As long as you put the effort in, anything could happen! I also feel that you compete with those of the same sex. You could come across people that are catty and try to put you down for no reason. You might also have these traits yourself and you need to reflect on how you treat other people, having opinions is normal but being judgemental and making assumptions about others before giving them a chance, is not. You have to acknowledge your flaws and the triggers you have been avoiding. For example, if you know that you easily get pissed off because you grew up in a household where arguing was normalized, realize that behavior isn't healthy. Overall, the good luck that you will be receiving is in regards to your independence and self expression. Additionally, I see you perfecting your craft. Some of you enjoy fashion, science, graphic design, and/or mathematics, you could receive an award or some sort of acknowledgement for your creative ideas!

Affirmations:

"I understand that everyone has their own unique path and challenges"

"I love myself, and I see myself in everyone"

Thanks so much for reading and I wish you the best of luck with whatever makes you happy in life 🍀

[kquil]

POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PART 2

02 : THANK YOU

SUM. : you thank your heroes with home made lunch at their work place, leaving with a temporary tattoo and three men wrapped around your little finger.

TAGS. : modern au ; muggle au ; tattoo artist sirius ; tattoo artist james ; piercer remus ; innocent reader ; all three are smitten with you ; all three also being casually dominant with you ; sweetheart reader x rough tough men is the trope! ; prepare to be as obsessed as i am over these men! ; marauders with tattoos and piercings are hot

LENGTH. : 2.6k

PREV. : 01 | RESCUE

“Well there’s a familiar face,” Remus greets with a smile as you step into the shop. You timidly smile back and wait for him to wave off a customer with their care kit before stepping forward with your heavy tote strung over your shoulder, “do you have an appointment for a tattoo or a piercing?” he asks, eyes trained on the tablet at the front desk. 

“Oh, no no,” you bashfully stammer, “I’m not here for any of that, I’m scared of needles,” 

“That’s a shame,” Remus contemplates and you look up to see him leaning over with a thoughtful look, his elbows on the counter as one hand holds his chin up - he’s so handsome. He has several piercings decorating his ears and an eyebrow piercing to accentuate the angles of his brows. As he moves his chin off his palm to caress it in contemplation, he continues to take you in as you also take the opportunity to admire some of the tattoos on his arms. There are some phrases in different fonts, an impressive vision of a wolf with a full moon and a minimalist set of the moon phases alongside much more, “you’d look good with cute little piercings on your ears,” he finally comments, reaching out to point at your ear. 

“Th-thank you,” you subconsciously reach up and touch your ear, his statement making you briefly consider his suggestion.

“So what are you here for if not for a piercing or tattoo?” straightening up into his full height, Remus lets a light scowl take over his face, “Is that bastard troubling you again?”

“It’s alright, don’t worry, I told my manager and he’s been banned from the pub I work at so I haven’t had anymore bad encounters,” 

Remus smiles at your precious appearance, you really look adorable being all timid in front of him, “I’m glad,” his voice is warm and comforting, different to the roughness brought on by the ink on his arms. He was dressed in a white shirt under a sleeveless brown sweater vest, high-waisted, tailored pants with the bottoms just about reaching his Doc Martens - he’s a good balance of soft but edgy. It’s a unique charm of his, you gather.

“I-I just wanted to say thank you to you guys,” you gesture to your tote bag, “so I made you some lunch, I hope that’s okay…” 

“Free lunch, home cooked by the most beautiful lady I’ve ever seen?” Sirius interrupts, stealing your attention as he appears from a corridor to your left with a boyish grin. He reaches for your hand and brings your knuckles up to his lips for a soft kiss, “what an honour,”

Your cheeks heat up incredibly at the gesture, “it’s really nothing, you guys saved me last night, it’s the least I could do,”

Sirius smiles down at you and after sharing a look with Remus he begins to lead you down the same corridor he had just appeared from, “well, you have the most perfect timing, darling because it’s a slow day and almost our lunch break,”

“I’ll tell James and help him finish up with his last client for the day. We’ll see you in a bit,” Remus announces as he flips the sign at the door to ‘CLOSED’. You wanted to protest and say that you didn’t want to waste too much of their time but the mousy haired piercer smiled and that was enough reassurance for you to hold your tongue. 

“Let’s go love,” Sirius leads you down a corridor to a room with rock posters and varying pieces of art decorating the wall as sofas lined half of the walls with varying aesthetics, one was very much distressed but still cosy looking, as the other was of a sleek, black leather. Thankfully, there was a pretty large coffee table that you could set your tote bag on and slowly began to take out the food you had cooked. On the distressed sofa behind you, Sirius admired your tentative figure and appreciated your stark difference in aesthetic to the room around you. Your style fits close to Remus although more feminine and carefree. There was a cosy structure to Remus’s fashion but with your long flowing white skirt, chiffon blouse and delicate jewellery, you embodied a breath of fresh air under the summer sun, “what a beauty,” Sirius says to himself, arms resting along the back of the sofa as you finally settled down.

Thinking he meant the food in the tupperware, you smile, “you like the food already?”

“I’m talking about you, darling, although the food does look delicious,” Sirius chuckles under his breath as you timidly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Th-thank you but really, I hope you like the food,” 

“I’m sure I will,” silence slowly permeates the space between you as you wait for Remus and James but it was still comfortable, not awkward at all. In that time, you both take in each other’s appearance. Sirius wears a white tank that clings to his toned figure and ends just under his belly button, showcasing a majority of the tattoos that embellish his skin. He’s also in black jeans and a pair of worn combat boots. The tattoos on his arms and those that peak out from his torso and chest don’t have a visible theme but they all still go together somehow. There are many unknown symbols and long winded sentences written decoratively around said symbols and the occasional elaborate illustration. There are some doodles dedicated to music, some to inside jokes you would guess and you want to ask questions but you bite your tongue. You didn’t want to be rude. 

“Curious?” Sirius asks, having noticed your wandering eyes and smiling at your kitten-like interest. 

“A little bit…”

“Ask away,”

When James and Remus finally join the two of you a few minutes later, they see you fully turned towards Sirius on the sofa, eyes focused on a tattoo on his chest that he was explaining the meaning of, catching you in a trance with his voice. The tattoo artist has his tank top moved down and to the side as you absentmindedly reach your hand up to his tattoo, almost tracing the ink on his skin with your delicate fingers. From the grin on Sirius’s face and the love-eyes he was watching your face with, they could tell he was smitten with you, which was rare. Sirius was very much a ladies man but you’ve managed to rope him in with hardly any effort put in. Remus doesn’t blame his friend, though, you’re very captivating. 

The chuckle from both Remus and James pulls your attention away from Sirius who smirks up at them, unbothered by their interruption.  

“I heard a pretty lady was treating us to some home made lunch today,” James eagerly sits down in the space beside you as Remus sits atop the far right of the coffee table. 

“Y-yeah, I hope you like it, please dig in,”

“Don’t mind if I do!” James cheers and promptly consumes his share of food, giving the occasional groan of satisfaction from the taste in his mouth, “Sho good!”

“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” Remus corrects with an amused smile before turning to your with an appreciative grin, “Thank you, truly, (Y/N), I was getting tired of take out,”

“Home cooking is the best,” Sirius groans from your other side, already half way through his share, which makes you giggle in happiness. Your heart swells with joy knowing that you could properly thank your heroes. Speaking off, you finally get to admire James in better lighting than the street lamps. He isn’t nearly as decorated with ink as Sirius but there was a pretty illustration of a stag on his forearm that you admired. You hadn’t wanted to feel awkward so you brought some lunch for you too and ate alongside the trio, stealing secret glances at James who remained oblivious, too engrossed in his food. He’s in much cosier attire compared to Srius and Remus. Hanging from his broad shoulders was an oversized, faded shirt and washed-out jeans with the bottoms rolled up to showcase his high converse shoes. Framing his face was a charming pair of round glasses and, matched with his unruly curls and tattoos, made him a pictured balance of casual and wild that suits only him.

Lunch passes and James was the first to finish between the trio, quickly proceeding to pull puppy eyes at his two friends in a soft plea for them to surrender some of their food to him but they firmly decline. 

“I’m not letting you have some of my lunch just because you finished yours too quickly,” Sirius huffs, pulling his tupperware closer to him. 

“Sorry Prongs,” Remus laughs, “those puppy eyes aren’t going to work on me, our dove’s cooking is too good to share,”

Unable to resist James’s pouting face, you hold up a spoonful of your meal, “it’s okay James,” you bring your spare hand to sit under the spoon and move it to James’s lips, “here, say ‘ahh’,”   

With a boyish, golden-boy grin, James happily accepts the mouthful and moans in happiness, chewing away like a happy squirrel. Enjoying his glee so much, you happily feed him the rest of your lunch, saying that you were already far too full to eat any more so that Remus and Sirius didn’t scold James too much. It was partially true though because seeing James eating was enough to make you feel full already. 

Once done, you set aside the tupperware and was completely unprepared for when James kissed your cheek as thanks for feeding him the rest of your lunch, “you’re too kind, angel, thank you,” he whispers into your ear, his breath brushing against your sensitive skin and sending a shiver down your spine. You could only muster a timid nod in response. 

When lunch ended, casual conversations started which slowly divulged into the boys wanting to give you a temporary tattoo as thanks. You wanted to protest the redundancy of their actions but were quickly convinced by the verbal pleas of Sirius and James as Remus simply stared at you with interested eyes.

“What tattoo would you like, doll?” Sirius asks, smiling at your pondering face. You're far too cute for your own good.

“Surprise me!” you finally chirp, missing the roguish grin the three men share. 

Not too long after, you were brought into a room with a computer connected to a specialised printer against one wall of the room. Remus and Sirius immediately move to prepare the temporary tattoo on the screen and set up the printer while James leads you to the tattoo bed in the middle of the room. 

“This can fold into a chair but that’s a bit of a hassle right now, do you mind sitting on the bed instead?” James asks as you shake your head and reassure that it’s alright. He loves how compliant you are and watches for a moment as you struggle to get on the high bed before offering assistance, “May I?” his hands hesitates just before they reach your figure but you pay his touch no mind and nod, moving your hands to rest on his shoulders as he secures his hold on your waist. With a small countdown, James lifts you onto the tattoo table with hardly any effort. 

Shuffling back, you smile up at James who remains taller than you on the table as he stands between your thighs, “Thank you, James,” the tattoo artist smiles when you say his name but frowns at the distance you’re sitting at the table. 

“No worries sweetheart but you we need you a little closer than that,” without another word, James grips your thighs with his large hands and pulls you with some force to sit closer to the edge of the table, which also pulls a surprised squeal from your lips, “sorry sorry,” James chuckles softly his hands still on your thighs and shudders at your proximity when he looks down to see your skirt bundled up, accentuating how close your hips were to his. Stepping away, James tidies up your skirt as you giggle and thank him once more for his assistance. He smiles at you before being called over to the computer, trading places with Sirius. 

“Where would you like your temporary tattoo, love?” he asks gently, opening a packet of sanitising wipes as the sound of the printer starts and whirrs in the background. 

“Hmmm…even though it’s temporary I want it to be easily hidden,”

“Such a shy princess aren’t you?” Sirius comments with a smile, “it’s so cute,”

Ignoring his comment, you rush to think of the perfect place for the tattoo and distract from your racing heart, “how about here?” you point to your chest, just above your breasts and below your collarbone. Sirius immediately recognises the placement and raises an amused brow. 

“Like my tattoo?”

You timidly smile, “yes please,”

“Very good choice,” Sirius praises playfully as pride swells within his chest, “but we need to get to that spot first, love,” you look down at your blouse and curse under your breath. 

“Umm…” you try to pull down the collar but it was a small cut and the fabric resists. The temporary tattoo finishes printing and Remus approaches the table with James to see you struggling with your blouse.

“Where does she want it?” James asks as Remus carefully holds the small tattoo. 

“Where mine was,” Sirius points to just below his collar bone, “but her blouse is in the way,”

Remus nods and approaches you, “that blouse is going to have to come off, dove,” his brown eyes watches you gnaw at your lip, it’s a hesitance he’s familiar with so he knows what to do, “don’t worry, you have nothing to be scared of, okay?” he gives you a warm smile when you look up at him and soon feel assured enough to untuck your blouse and pull it over your head, “good girl,” he praises with the same soft tone. You feel silly, these men give tattoos and pierce people’s skin, you’re sure that they’ve seen plenty of shirtless women in only their bras. Remus especially…he’s an expert piercer and has probably been asked to pierce lady parts that weren’t…very common.

“I’ve got to prepare your skin, love,” Sirius holds up the wipe and once you confirm exactly where you wanted the tattoo again, he wipes the area clean. Your skin is soft and slightly bouncy as it leads down to your breasts that makes the tattoo artist wipe at your skin a little longer than normal. After Sirius finishes prepping your skin and letting it dry, Remus steps up and applies the tattoo as best as he can without wrinkles. He swipes over the tattoo with his fingers and smiles at the handiwork. Beside him, Sirius and James admire the temporary ink, all three internally screaming at what you had let them ink you with.   

“Wait a full hour before you peel off the applicator,” Remus gently instructs, “and try to avoid sweating or showering for the next 6 hours okay?” you nod and Remus pats your head in approval with a contented hum. You put your blouse back on and let James help you down, laughing brightly when he raises you up high and spins you in the air before he finally sets you down, laughing alongside you. 

The boys still have a business to run so you collect your empty tupperware and wave the three goodbye before hurrying home, excited to see what tattoo they had given you as they were adamant at keeping it a surprise from you. When you finally arrived home and got a hold of a mirror, you examined the tattoo with your blouse off and felt your cheeks gradually heat up as you trace the differing fonts of the three names decorating the space beneath your collarbone. 

Their names in their handwriting. James, Sirius, Remus.

NEXT : 03 | GROCERIES

NAVI. | HEROES IN TATTOOS SERIES

A/N : i'm becoming more and more obsessed with this au - i couldn't stop writing! if i'm going down, im bringing your darlings with me! no survivors allowed! maybe i'll make a part 3? i don't know yet. again, i've added additional tags of the people who have expressed interest in more parts for the timestamp. tell me your thoughts, lovelies!

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins ; @astonishment ; @until-i-found-you ; @goodoldfashionedluvergirl ; @tiensmamains ; @manical-heaven ; @ch3rry-pops ; @unholyhuntress ; @animeluvr99 ; @peppers-library ; @thepowerthismanhasoverme ; @buck-fics ; @bohemian-lavender-girl

[solar-serpent]

🌈Based on your talents, what business should you launch?💰🪙

Hello! I hope everyone is doing great. I'm going through a phase where I started wondering if I wanted to go back to work for an employer, or even if it was worthy after I've acknowledged all my potential and the fact no one would ever pay for the real price of my work. Aquarium era is hitting me harder, and I bet you too are feeling this call to reach financial freedom. We deserve it.

I want to contribute with your awakening.

Please take a deep breath, focus on what's in front of you and pick the picture you feel more attracted to.

Pile I → Pile II

Pile III → Pile IV

🌱Pile I🌱

OMG, pile 1, you are so kind and empathetic that people want to open up to you and ask for your opinion/advice on topics such as recent breakups, petty fights with mom, best friend betrayal drama and so. Even though that's not the main purpose for them going into your store/business. If you weren't an entrepreneur, you could've been an excellent therapist since your serene demeanor and polite speech would make others believe they are speaking to a good friend. You show you care for what you are being told by providing meaningful replies, and I could swear people go crazy over your attentive gaze. Some of you are natural, others are really good actors (no one is to be judged here). Your patience and warm personality real or not sells, people could purchase anything from your business if you are the one assisting, which can be a boomer if you are aiming for leaving someone else in charge and doing the counts behind the scenes, knowing you are one of the best sellers.

You could own a coffee store given how good you are at building spaces where people will gather and feel safe. Not only that, you can create beautiful settings that will make others immerse in a new world like the tea room from a dollhouse or within a Monet painting. You will succeed at making them distance themselves from real world's problems, thus they could be more open to speak about something that feels so far away. To be honest, I don't think everyone that chose this pile would identify with this business idea. For some serving, cooking and simping chai latte over the daily gossips feels like a waste of their potential. You guys are right, another part of group which's artsy in nature is more aligned with fashion, beauty, and textiles. But I swear you all have the potential to manifest large amounts of money in one sale. I didn't have to crack my head open thinking about what type of business could allow that as designing is your strong suit. You are a master when it comes to making colors, fabrics. and whatnot march. A small part of this group loves sweets and how food can make others happy, therefore you could settle down for having a bakery and specializing on wedding cakes. However, some of you are contemplating the idea of running a drift or wedding dress store. For the ones willing to work with the brides, I assure your business will do well. You have the patience of a Greek hero going against the gods' will, so I see you nailing sales that took plenty of your time and energy.

I hope this reading was to your liking♡. I'm offering paid readings about this topic here. You can find more free content on my blog.

🌱Pile 2🌱

I didn't know "giving a fuck" was a talent until I drew your cards, dear pile 2. You are strong people, you don't care if others start hating you for doing your job. Like 5% of the people who picked this pile dreamed with being a hitman and go ahead guys, you'll do great. Now, a large percent of you have questionable morals, allowing you to work in fields where you can turn corrupted and earn wealth as a politician, lawyer, or even a doctor. I know those are career choices, but the real business for you is owning agencies, institutes, clinics, and funeral homes. I am not even making the latter up. Some of you won't care about the taboo-ish nature of your work. You approach business with level-headedness and practicality, thus if it pays wells as any other job related to humans needs... dealing with the deads is easier than their family but you will still do the job or you will hire someone to do it eventually. Curiously, you are great at making people feel better. You aren't that talkative, but you know how to make others laugh with your silly jokes, pulling weird faces, providing them with food or water and much needed space.

Some of you are radicals and into activism. You have plenty of pent-up anger and aggressiveness inside of you that you will directed at facing opposing forces. You might start a charitable cause and talk people into volunteering. Yeah, I know it won't give you money or not so much, but hear me out! You could own an institute for people with special needs or another for learning languages. There's a high chance you might end up working with foreigners, what gave you that business idea when you thought on how to help them improve their lifestyle. Some of you could be interested in farming or owning a supermarket. You would feel inclined to hire immigrants regardless of the consequences. Actually, what are consequences to you? You don't fucking care. You see people suffering, you help them. There's no other logic in your brain.

I hope this reading was to your liking♡. I'm offering paid readings about this topic here. You can find more free content on my blog.

🌱Pile 3🌱

Ok, guys, I love how unbothered you are when it comes to your line of work and what people have to say about it. Unlike pile 2, you are not interested in top positions that might lead to corruption, dirty money and living a very intense life. You are the complete opposite, you are humble and like to contribute to the community. You have a great intuition and observation skills, so upon checking your town or the place you want to install your business in, you will know what spot in the market needs to be filled right away. You can also tell what the community's needs are; you are not afraid of getting your hands dirty, so you could feel inclined to run a fish or convenience store. I feel like you want to belong, so not only your business won't cover a necessity, but also will turn into something traditional, even "iconic" for your neighbourhood. Is a music store still a thing? I feel like a small part of this group longs to have one.

You have all what it takes to manifest a long-lasting business. You are highly talented at nurturing and you might see your business like a "baby". It's not just your money source, but something to care about and fight for. Some of you might be interested in running an esoteric shop, where people is going to get their cards read or purchase herbs, incienses, candles, and so on. Mostly, this pile wants to have an unique business or for it to be the sole provider of something. E.g, you might own the only bookstore with coffee services at town. Also, I believe some of you will settle for moving out to a town or the countryside and start a business over there.

I hope this reading was to your liking♡. I'm offering paid readings about this topic here. You can find more free content on my blog.

🌱Pile 4🌱

Hello, guys! This pile is slightly different from the rest since I feel like going straight to the point and sparing unnecessary details, but I might annoy you as I'm not leaving nothing unsaid. You are known for being busy and most times you seem to be in a hurry. You are always working on something, even in high school your friends knew you were too invested on your studies and earning money than hanging out with people your age. You probably like technology and travelling, so you could own a business like a travel agency (in your country or another), transport or event planning company. In all honesty, you might end up running all three of them. The term "workaholic" does not make justice to what you are, but I will call you a genius. You were born to steal the spotlight by your innovative style at the moment of giving birth to your ideas into the real world. You can mix all your interests together and create a new business that will leave people gawking, like an app who allows users to match with vacation spots instead of people or something like that?

Some of you will rather work with tourists, renting cars, boats, and properties so their basic needs are covered. I don't know how many of you are sporty but you are adamant about turning one of your interests/hobbies in your business. You might run your own indoor rock climbing centre. If you were to ask me for specifications on what's your talent, I would say you are a natural when it comes to businesses and you hold such control over your emotions. You put your sole focus on work, nothing can distract you from achieving your goals. Not even your family, so I can see you making up to your dear ones with expensive gifts or generous check after you missed an important family event again.

I hope this reading was to your liking♡. I'm offering paid readings about this topic here. You can find more free content on my blog.

[lovelyiida]

THE RACE TO WEDDING BELLS ❤︎︎

PROLOGUE: BAKUGO’S MIDLIFE CRISIS

❥ SYNOPSIS: as the years went by... bakugo realized that he was the last to get married. the days grew cold and the nights turned lonely. bakugo wants to marry, but he doesn't really feel like falling in love. at least he has his trustee secretary!

implied fem reader, aged-up! Pro-hero MHA characters over the age of 27, vulgar language, suggestive wording, and content.

❥ CHAPTERS

❥ MASTERLIST

❥ JOIN TAG LIST!

WORDS: 0.9K

Katsuki Bakugo was widely regarded as the greatest hero of all time. He had it all: striking looks, immense strength, an unwavering attitude, and a fortune to rival that of a king. Despite his many accolades, Bakugo was plagued by one thing…

loneliness.

However, he never saw it as a problem. In fact, he cherished his solemn solitude more than anything else. It was his personal sanctuary, a place where he could find solace from the world. He would often come home to the sound of nothing but white noise and strip off his clothes, the sounds of absolutely nothing roaming through is head.

feeling the heavy weight of slumber seep into his being, stumbling towards his bedroom. The sensation of water trickling down his skin in the shower was the only sound he could hear, and he relished in it. As he collapsed onto his pillow, he was met with absolute silence. The stillness he had created was something he found comfort in, something he loved.

closing his eyes, he’s met with nothing.

Absolutely, nothin’

Bakugo absolutely, loved being alone.

That was until everyone had to shove it in his face…

“Dude, c’mon! It’s about that time in your life where you start to settle! Find a gal and have some rascals—create a bloodline and stuff!” Said his trustee friend, Kirishima.

Bakugo currently sat down within the four walls of Kirishima’s lovely home. Bakugo scowls as he looks around the place. Colorful toys litter every square foot of the house.

The lovely home bustling with energy and filled with vibrant toys scattered across every square foot. a total of not one, not two, but three lively kids running and jumping off the walls—their laughter echoing through the halls. Bakugo lets out a scowl as he surveyed the chaos around him.

As he looked over at his best friend Kirishima, Bakugo couldn't help but notice the evidence of his friend's exhaustion. His once-white t-shirt was now covered in marker blotches and food stains, and dark circles had formed under his eyes, a testament to his sleepless nights. Despite his fatigue, Kirishima's toothy grin shone bright, and Bakugo couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for his friend's strength and resilience.

“You look like shit,” Bakugo rudely complements.

That once toothy grin curves down into a frown, “listen—believe it or not, children actually need to be taken care of and can’t be left alone for more than an hour, especially mines.” Kirishima directs his thumb behind him, directing to his children, which were currently drawing on the wall.

Bakugo rolls his eyes, “right—when are you gonna come back to the agency? Sick n’tired of doing all this shit on my own.”

“Dude, I’m awol for another…2 months?” He questions himself, “after me and the wife had kid three, I registered for maternity leave remember? Gotta help around, make memories, rest!” He laughs.

Oh, that laugh pissed him off.

“Rest? All you do is fuckin rest! Rest and fuck, and get your girl pregnant…unbelievable.” Bakugo sighs, crossing his arms tight against his chest.

“You wish you could rest and fuck like I could, it’s not my fault I’m irresistible~” Kirishima coos. This earns a dry chuckle from Bakugo.

“You know what is your fault? Not putting on a goddamn rubber,” He chuckled. This earns a laugh out of Kirishima.

“That I agree with, only downfall to having so many kids is never getting the time to go wild. Like, honeymoon phase wild.” Kirishima gives his friend an evil smile.

“Wha?” Bakugo say’s in confusion.

“The honeymoon phase, y’know? Can’t get your hands off each other—leads to the first child, usually the one that’s actually planned.” Kirishima says, taking a sip of his drink.

Kirishima quickly glances back at his wife, who's busy tending to one of their kids who just bumped their head on the couch. With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, Kirishima slowly lets out a deep sigh of contentment. His eyes gleaming with satisfaction, he spreads his legs wide in the comfortable chair, relishing in the soft cushioning that cradles his back.

“Dude, can’t even describe the things that woman has done to me back in those days. Easily busted six loads a week! But once that first child came around, I can barely get any, currently on a holidays-only-basis…” Kirishima says sorrowfully.

This makes Bakugo burst into laughter.

“That’s what your dumbass gets!” He cackles, holding onto his stomach for support.

“Dumbass!”

Both of the men’s eyes snap towards the voice, they watch as one of Kirishima’s kids runs over towards their father.

“Hey, language!” Kirishima says sternly. This only makes the kid laugh, holding their arms out, Kirishima picks their kid up and placed them on his lap.

“I get that you’re in your prime and stuff, but you’ve been in your prime for 8 years now. You’re 27, it’s okay to enter into a mid-life crisis and re-evaluate your life purpose.” Kirishima says unfazed, picking his child up and starts to make them bounce up and down, cooing at them sheepishly.

This takes Bakugo aback.

“Midlife crisis? Why the fuck would I be in midlife crisis, dumbass?–“

“Fuck!”

“Hey! Stop it!” Kirishima yells at his child again, which makes them laugh out once more. Holding his child, he stands up. Signaling that the conversation is over, and that Bakugo’s visit has come to an end.

in confusion…

“Get a life, get laid.”

GAHHHHH THANKS FOR 500 FOLLWERS!! FINALLY BACK FROM FINALS!!

Decided to celebrate with my first ever series on the account! Thank you all for the support!! If you’d like to be tagged in the next part fill out the tag list form on my page!

— 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐢𝐝𝐚 ❤︎︎

[chunky-lobster-soup]

I absolutely ADORE linked maze ❤️

So here’s some hcs

-time says Canada wrong on purpose and everyone thinks he just doesn’t know how to say it correctly (he does it just pisses off Navi and he thinks that’s funny)

-twilight forgets that he’s not allowed to do certain things as a human so if he gets happy he’ll just scream at the top of his lungs for 2 seconds until he remembers that he’s not a dog

-wind had a phase where he would not eat any vegetables and his grandma had to threaten to tell the hero of time that he wasn’t eating his veggies. He later discovers that time doesn’t eat his vegetables either

-wild tried to make sky eat a rock. I will not elaborate

-sky had to fake eat a rock for wild sake. I will also not elaborate

-bunny’s favorite food is apple pie! I will elaborate on this! He grew up on an apple orchard and it reminds him of home!

-hyrule drank expired milk once and koridai had to watch in horror as he did so

-four gives me the vibe that only one allergic to hamsters can give. So four is allergic to hamsters but only hamsters

[jinxs-gf]

Dating Kaldur Headcanons

Kaldur’ahm x Reader

no warnings!

word count: 700+

a.n. I wasn’t sure what to do here so I just went for a general dating thing!

there’s a glaringly obvious thing we need to address first.

Kaldur is THE most loyal person you’ll ever meet. romantic and non-romantic wise

you don’t gotta worry about anything with him 🙏🏽🙏🏽😭 what about him screams ‘you have to worry about me getting too cozy with someone else…’

NOTHING!!!! he’s loyal and devoted to you and makes it obvious

so obvious it hurts. so obvious the team makes fun of him for it

he’s a serious/blunt man because he cares. it’s his way of making sure his loved ones are safe (and others: take for example, the people he saves??? the whole reason he’s a hero is bc he’s trying to protect people). he orders the team around and tells them when they’re wrong because he wants what’s best for them

now you’re a person he doesn’t just care about, he loves you. you’re his dear, his light in very dark times (this man has been through it). so when it comes to you, there’s two sides to this:

1. he bosses you around if you don’t take care of yourself.

he uses his stern voice on you (very hot btw) if you haven’t eaten when you should’ve.

“Did you eat?” He sits next to you on the couch, presenting the dinner he’s cooked.

You stay quiet. And he knows what that means.

“You barely had breakfast this morning.” Your silence continues.

Gently, he pinches your chin between his fingers, “you can’t keep doing this to yourself, love.”

“I don’t do it on purpose! The day goes by too fast and I forget.”

“So you don’t feel the empty space in your stomach? You can’t hear it when it’s asking to you for food?”

You shrug.

He squeezes your chin softly, an action of affection and worry. He brings up a forkful of food, “eat.”

In his mind it’s:

“I don’t mind taking care of you, I love it in fact. But you need to know how to care for yourself when needed. I can’t have something happen to you. I won’t let it happen.”

2. he’s very very soft with you. he’s stuck in the honeymoon phase of the relationship, it’ll never end for him

he doesn’t usually show much affection with a lot of people around. he’s not too big on PDA

which isn’t to say he won’t be affectionate outside of your private time, he WILL be. it’s just small touches:

forehead/hand kisses (oh how he’s a huge fan of hand kisses, just like the proper gentleman), and of course standard lip kisses. they’re sweet, typically short, but sososo good. the two of you make the most out of those tiny kisses

you’ll also have the hand on your back at all times. that man will not let go. trust me.

if you’re not by his side or close enough that allows him to do this, he’ll seek you out. you tease him for it but he’ll simply tell you it’s to make sure you don’t do something stupid (he’s teasing, he just wants to be with you 24/7)

they’re small but meaningful touches

(which make you go crazy)

you’ll usually lean into him, hand on his chest (he sweats a little every time)

so you’re not “theme park line couple” you’re just…‘keeps it private’ couple!

the team doesn’t see him behind closed doors, which is where his lovey-dovey/certified teddy bear comes out

but when they DO see it? they can’t take him seriously as the team leader anymore :( (jk it makes them respect him more, they just like to tease)

Kaldur’s all neck kisses, cuddles (he’s always in protector mode so he likes being the big spoon for your benefit, but he admits later that he loves being the little spoon…), arms wrapped around each other’s waists, setting your legs over his thighs while y’all are sitting on the couch…slow dancing!

they find a way for you to be able to breathe/see underwater, which means so much to him because that’s where his home is!

he loves spending quality time with you in Atlantis.

swimming around, teaching you tips and tricks, having races (he lets you win every time)

kisses kisses kisses.

and a few make outs here and there…

he also loves getting massages. he never outright asks for them because he doesn’t want to “bother” you but he can admit that he needs them.

he genuinely feels like he’s in heaven when you give him a nice, thorough neck/shoulder massage. he’ll kiss you all over the face afterwards, praising you for being so good to him.

that’s all I got for now!

if y’all request something expect it to be short formed content like this HC. as well as blurbs, random thoughts on (character) x reader, etc.

[sonic-fankid-showdown]

Poll 3, Round 1.

About Geode: (by @oddogoblino) In an attempt to impress The Eggman, a mad yet inexperienced scientist stole Gerald Robotnik's blueprints of Project SHADOW and tried to improve on it to make the definitive true ultimate lifeform to defeat Sonic once and for all. To add insult to injury, the eggsupporter had chosen to use some of Sonic's DNA along with Shadow's, that'd been found from battle aftermaths, to make his creation. Before their prototype was even finished though, GUN had found out about Project REMASTERED. Rouge told Shadow about it before GUN could do a raid though so he could handle this personal matter how he found fit. Well, Shadow went and destroyed the lab of course, though he wasn't prepared to see just how early in development the project was. He was expecting something full grown but all he found was the prototype barely in the infant phase in its development. Being unable to just kill a baby or adopt this all powerful baby off to an unsuspecting family (and also being unknowingly motivated by Black Arms instincts to keep the species alive), Shadow decided to take the little hoglet in as his own. At first, Shadow was too caught up in caring for Geode off instinct to think about telling anyone about him, but just a few months in and Geode already began showing his defects in creation and Shadow turned to Sonic and Tails for help. Now, Geode has inhibitor rings to keep his chaos energy at a stable level and has been growing up comfortably from home to home, adventure to adventure. Geode himself though, by the time he's 16, is a very quiet, introverted, affectionate, emotional, compassionate, and sort of awkward character. He's not good at social but he cares about others and is very forgiving when hes wronged and has decent emotional intelligence. He's a "be mindful of how you use the water if the cup's half empty" kinda thinker. He's very curious on just about anything new he discovers. Others can think of him as being a bit simple minded sometimes though. People tend to overwhelm him easily so he finds most comfort in spending time with Chao. If he's not on a mission, he's a bit of a clumsy puppy of a guy. But, if Shadow puts 2 thoughts into something and Sonic puts none, then Geode only puts 1 thought into everything he does. He's a pacifist who can't bring himself to hurt living beings, he can fight nonsentient robots just fine but otherwise he prefers to trap any living enemies in whatever he can get his hands on. He's a stealth type and has a habit of stealing artifacts and other magical things he deems too powerful to let be taken even by his dads. He can see chaos auras 24/7 to a heightened sense, being able to see the chaos energy even in plants along with being able to see the chaos energy left behind from those deceased (aka, ghosts). He's faster than Sonic but he's weaker than Shadow. He loves the world around him very dearly, having Sonic's passion for life/the world and Shadow's determination to fight for himself. Geode also has picked up mechanics as a small hobby though he's not very passionate about it.

About Brutus: (by @susahnasomething) A genetically enhanced clone of Shadow (mixed with Sonic's DNA) Brutus was made and raised by Eclipse the Darkling, who hoped to bring back the black arms by making a bunch of super powerful clones. This was not good for her. Eventually the heroes defeated Eclipse, and Shadow rescued her (not her clone siblings sadly, cause SOMEONE DECIDED THAT THERE SHALL ONLY BE ONE) and was then raised by sonadow. Brutus is a dark and conceited girl, reminding everyone of past shadow. Who firmly believes she cannot be killed nor destroyed, so she tends to throw herself into danger. (shes the ultimate lifeform nothing can hurt her!!) . . . totally!

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 30

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 5k

Masterlist

Genie gives you a sly smile when she sees your smirk when you sit back down on the couch.

Javier trails behind you, excusing himself to the kitchen to cook. You’re not sure what you’re doing. Honestly, you’re probably going to regret this. Fuck it. It felt too good to hold him. You tasted him, lips pressed to his neck. Touching someone you love,  what a dangerous game. You’ll stay here tonight, then you’ll make a decision on what the next week looks like. A personal test that will probably have Jayla yelling your ear off about how bad of an idea this was. 

 Still you watch him from the love seat that faces the doorway to the kitchen. Seeing him move in the kitchen with deft, wiping his brow, clenching his jaw and looking oh so tortured. Your legs crossed, preventing any silly ideas you might conjure up from the beers Genie kept feeding you. 

Everyone in the house seemed to be in good spirits. Even your mother who had been housing a glass of wine. Everyone was a bit tipsy by ten. The girls asleep atop coats on Chuchos bed down the hall. They’ll be woken from their slumber at midnight to ravage through the gifts under the tree. 

Javier comes in alas, two beers in hand and beelines straight toward the empty seat next to you. Settling down, legs spread, offering up a beer for you. Your cheeks redden at the gesture, feeling your brother's knowing gaze. “Thank you.” You whisper, nudging him. 

He doesn’t respond and just shifts to get more comfortable. Settling into the couch, shoulder to shoulder with knees pressed against each other. He could give you space but he decided against it. The closeness sends a shock to your core and you wish to forget it. He clears his throat and looks ahead at his father who also had a knowing smile at the interaction.

“It’s great to finally have both of you home.” Chucho nods. “Through all the ups and downs I’m just happy to see the four of you— Frankie, Genevieve, Andrea and Javi still friends. Just glad you guys are over your marijuana phase.”

The room erupts in laughter, you put your hands up in defense. “I never! Never smoked in here.”

Frankie cackled, “Yeah because Javi never let you, he was all— she’s too young for that shit.” The living room swirled with another round  of laughs at the spot on impression of Javier. 

“Wait… you guys smoked pot?” Your mother asked, eyes wide. Devoid of anger, just shock. The four of you grinned. 

“It was the seventies.” Genie comments, cringing and bringing her water to her lips. She had been the only one of us completely sober. Your mind began to wander. James shook his head.

“Listen, they smoked pot and look how well off they all are. Beautiful family and two thriving salons. School teacher in New York City. And an American hero.” He butts in. Everyone in the room nods, your brother and his wife leaning into each other with smiles. Your eyes fall to your lap and slowly ride up from Javi’s knee to his face. A frown taut on his lips. 

“Don’t look so down Javi. What are your next steps now that you’re here?” Your mom slurs, gesturing for him to speak. Her gold bangles sounded like sleigh bells from hell. You suck your teeth, feeling him tense up next to you. An American Hero. It strokes something in him and you feel him closing in on himself beside you. 

“Uh- I just-I haven’t”

“Mami, he just got home today.” 

She waved a hand for you to scratch. “Ay nena, I’m talking to Javier here.” 

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, seeing him struggle to adjust to all this attention. He must have spent a lot of time talking about anything but himself. It would be a lot for anyone. To come home after three traumatic years to pestering questions from drunk elders. You see his eyes, nervous and unlike himself. You resist the urge to place your hand on his knee. He glances at your eyes then down at your lips swiftly before focusing on your mother again. Your brain short circuits at that, severely confused by his decision to fuck up your plan to keep your panties on tonight. 

 “Uhm-ehem.” He clears his throat. “I’m going to take it slow. Hopefully find someone, start a family. All in due time I suppose.” He chuckles and your mother nods curtly. 

“Well…” And when your mother begins a statement this way you have to brace yourself for complete and utter nonsense. Shoot. “Lorrianne is still single only–”

“We do not speak the devil's name in this house.” Chucho cuts. And thank god he knew how to dial a room because still you all drunkenly laugh together. Your mother cackled, repeating that it was a joke. Some part of you feels like it’s not. 

Still you laugh anyway.

Your mother is too tipsy to question why she’s now riding home with your brother. So is your brother but Genie—she’s winking at you while she pulls out of the parking lot. And Don Chucho doesn’t seem to be bothered. He squeezes your shoulder while you sit at the kitchen table, watching Javier rinse off the dishes. 

Truthfully, you’re a bit more tipsy than you thought. There’s something about stepping out into that brisk December air that really hits you with the reality that you had been fed beers for the past five hours. 

“You heading to bed?” 

“Yes, happy you're home. Don’t do anything stupid.” He whispers the last part in your ear and kisses your cheek before exiting. “Merry Christmas!” He calls from the hallway, a bit slurred. 

The entire night had been filled with stolen glances and knees pressing against each other. Not a direct word shared but now you were alone in the kitchen. The tipsier you got, the hotter your cheeks grew. Staring at his back while the stream of the water he uses occupies the silence, you cross your legs. He clears his throat, like he’s waiting to see who breaks this game first.

 But honestly, all you could do is stare at the way the ripples of his back muscles and shoulder blades stretch his shirt. 

Christ, you think while sipping the cure to your state. Water.

Luckily the pressing questions died down into a session of nostalgic storytelling. You try not to be bothered by your mother not being able to recall one dear moment from your childhood. It seemed everyone had one about you except her. 

It made you think of the bee earrings that catch dust on your vanity. You are suddenly too sad to speak. 

He clears his throat and turns. Arms crossed, making his biceps bulge in his shirt. Fuck, he was sexier than before. And he’s looking at you that same way. Like it’s taking a lot from him to not just spread you open right there in the kitchen. Your stomach pits at the distant memory of your breasts rubbing against the kitchen counter while he fucked some sense into you. Pretty little wife. 

“I’m going to head out for a smoke. My clothes are unpacked yet, there should still be some old shirts in the drawers for you to change into.” 

His words are like a splash of cold water, he exits the kitchen and the front door follows. Your brain barely caught up with anything he said. You were faced with the reality once again. You were going to sleep in Javier’s bed, and you promised yourself it was going to be casual. 

Good god, why do I set such unrealistic expectations for myself?

You get up anyway, relieved that he’s allowing you privacy to change. You think if he was in the room while doing so you might’ve urged to just take it off himself. 

You expected there to be more sentiment when you walked into his room after so long. After the last time.

It was the last time you had sex. It was a memory you liked to not look back on. Your last time being spent with him comforting you after having a panic attack. It was when you told him that you never thought you’d have a healthy sex life. Yet it was so much more than that. You were overcome with the trauma of your first relationship and the blistering reality of being so in love, that you couldn’t bear to watch him leave. 

You’re back in that same spot, yet the room is empty, filled with boxes and suitcases. 

You feel nostalgia run down your throat with a swallow. But ultimately are left with yearning to make more revelations here. 

His bed was ruffled like he napped during the day and he had a suitcase open with clothing jumbled. You know he said to check his drawer but the smell of his cologne enticed you far too much to just throw on some old threadbare shirt that probably smells like a closet. 

You pick a green t-shirt. A favorite of his, you remember him wearing it at Xavier’s memorial day barbecue a few years back. With a sting at your knee, you bend down to grab it before striping yourself of your sweater dress. Stockings off and tossed on the floor. With just your panties and hardened nipples grazing the thin material, you climb onto his bed. Dazed and determined to not let your pussy get the best of you. 

The door creaked open and he came through. Hooded eyes blinking in disbelief. Maybe being perched on the bed with your thighs on display wasn’t the smartest. Perhaps shuffling under the covers would have been preferable to keeping his or your hands to yourself. He clears his throat and gives you a nod. 

“You still smoke.” You comment. You never liked it, far more research has been done and you hate for him to get himself sick over something so trivial. 

He clenches his jaw, eyes stuck on the curve of your breasts and nipples for a moment before he bends down to grab a pair of sleep pants from his suitcase. “Yes.” He turns, the unzipping of his pants makes you shift on your heels. Dropping his pants, the backs of his thighs and black boxers in your sight. Still, he respects your earlier requests of no funny business and he pulls on his new pants without a lingering second of sexual suggestion. 

Much to your dismay he keeps his shirt on. “It’s still really bad for you.” You whisper, changing your seating position— knees to your chest now, back against the headboard. Javier turns with a small smile on his face observing your things tossed on his floor. 

“Wanting things that are bad for you is healthy.” He murmurs, bending down with a soft groan. Folding his pants and placing them back in his suitcase. He looks up into your eyes, “So is wanting something that’s good for you. Makes us human.” He gets into bed with another grunt, old man. 

You nod, hands holding your knees. Feeling your wound throb. You bite back a wince. Javier’s eyes are on your knee the second he feels you next to him. Creased brow, he takes his big fingers around your wrist and reveals the injury to him. In an instant, he’s manhandling you, still delicate and considerate of your stinging knee. He moves your legs across his lap. “How’d you get this?” He thumbs the surrounding area, inside of your knee and you throb. More ways than one. 

“Fell in the subway.” 

He grumbles, stroking and soothing your skin. It’s so much contact in one moment. You’re overcome with the urge to cry and tell him that every time you’ve ever felt pain you wished he were there. Any tiny cut, any feeling hurt, you wished to come home to tell him about it and curse the world together. 

God bless you, you’re an honest drunk. 

“It was a brutal fall, ripped my stocking and bled all the way home. Then it was snowing so it was all dirty. You ever get hurt and realize you’re no better than a kid, like you just wish there were someone there to kiss it better. Or like wanting someone to rub and be like sana sana colita de rana.” You ramble, eyes on the way his hand covers your entire knee and the way his thumb works into your soft skin. You gaze trails back up to his face and his stunning side profile is what you’re met with. The arch of his nose, the thick hair above his pretty pout. You wanted to drag your lips across it all and claim him. 

His brow furrows, and you realize that may be its natural state. His free hand comes up and points at a tiny scar across the bridge of his nose. Eyes widening, you shove your face into his to get a view. Tip of your nose touching his cheek while you observe a new part of him. He chuckles. 

“I’ve been on scene for more raids than I can count. Usually it’s a shoot out.” Your chest tightens and you back your face away. “Dodging, frantic, whatever. But there was this one, where we had one of Escobar's sicarios cornered. Well I had him cornered. Really fucked up guy, got two pregnant women killed sort of fucked up. Anyway, I was tired, and angry. And I should have just detained him when I had the chance. But… I was the one who saw the bodies. I wanted to rough him up myself. And I did, but in the midst of it all he head butted me and—yeah. Cracked my nose. Had a small gash and was bleeding all the way down to my teeth.” His finger traces to his mustache.

 “Went back to my team, blood still pouring, drying on my mustache. In so much pain I could barely see. The adrenaline was so high so no one bothered to help me. I didn’t want to help me either, I just wanted to get the night done and over with. It was when I got home and dunked my face in cold water that I really wished I had someone there to take care of me.”

He frowns for a moment, not able to look you in the eyes. You both sit in silence and you digest it all. You knew—know, that your lives turned out very differently, you guess you haven’t even thought about how different. 

 Your frown isn’t momentary, your heart slows in your chest and you swear you don’t think. Maybe you can blame it on your drunkenness tomorrow. But you bring your pointer finger to the scar on his nose and he doesn’t flinch. The crease between his brow just flexes then smoothes out all together.

You rub the scar, and trail down the bump of his nose. You feel the slight crook that it must have left. You move again, grazing the tip, and landing on his mustache. The thing that used to brush against you, and at one point soaked his blood. His lip twitches when the tip of your nail brushes the soft skin of his cupid's bow. The pad of your finger presses against his lips and he cracks into a smile. One that’s more genuine than any he let out today. Maybe it’s because you’re both tipsy that he allows his eyes to crinkle and dimples to deepen. Your finger slipping and pressing to the cold surface of his teeth. 

You let your hand fall to his chest, “I wish I was there.” You admit in a whisper.

“I don’t.” His voice vibrates against your palm. 

You know what he means, and he knows you know what he means so he doesn’t rush to reassure you. You’re beyond need for that. “I know it was dangerous but I wish I was there to listen to you, wipe off your blood or whatever.” You whisper, doubling down. He huffs, he’s much more solid under your palm than he was a few years back. It must be tough work. You fight the urge to press your lips against the scar on his nose. 

“You would have been disgusted by the person I was there—the person I've become.” 

“No.” You mutter, you’ve already thought of all the horrible things he could have been doing and forgave him in your head years ago.

He shakes his head and grabs your wrist to move your hand onto your own lap. “I’ve killed people.”

“I know.”

“I fucked at least 2 hookers a week.”

He’s saying it like he wants you to run away or tell him he isn’t good enough, that he’s not the same person. Does he want you to snarl in his face and be angry? It seems like he must have forgotten the type of person you are. “Was it a different one each time?” You ask so maybe you cared more than you’d like to believe. 

“It was the same four women.” He burns a hole through the wall with his gaze. He couldn’t even look at you. 

“What were their names?”

He snaps to look at you, eyes roving around your face. Utter confusion between his brow. “Do you want me to hurt your feelings?”

“What did you think I was sitting with my legs crossed in New York City?” 

He quirks a brow for a moment, you see the smallest glimpse of jealousy in his eyes before he sits up right and smirks. “Julia, Camila, Daniela and Dulce.”

You nod, “I’m hooking up with my colleague.” 

He tightens his lips, “Alright.”

You chuckle dryly, tilting your head. “Does that bother you?”

Javier shrugs, “No but unlike you I rather not hear about my exes sexual whereabouts” 

Your eyes drop to your lap at that. Tiredness creeping in to protect you from the danger that is speaking to Javier so late in the night. You hated that, “I never thought we’d ever be exes.”

It's silent again, you can almost hear Chucho snoring down the hall. How is it Christmas already, how is he here? How, why the fuck are you in his bed. “I don't typically go into relationships thinking we’re going to be exes.”

“I never thought we’d even be together.” You whisper the confession. Sometimes, she creeps through, who you were ten years ago. Insecure and unsure of everything when the answers are right on display for you. Javier's body is much closer to you this time, sneaking his chin on your shoulder. Lips grazing your jaw. It sobers you up, you bring your hand to the back of his head. Cradling him, while he presses slow kisses to your jaw. Lips just as soft. Your eyes flutter shut, “This is such a bad idea.” 

“Why?” He gravels out. His adams apple rolling against your shoulder. 

“Because we’re going to end up fucking.”

His teeth grazes your neck, “Would that be so bad?” He slows down, nosing your chest, with hands coming to your waist. Like he’s ready to pull you into his lap at any moment. 

You don't want him to stop, the way he’s moving is all that you've craved for years. His shirt thin on your skin, he’s all opened mouth–inching toward your peaked nipples through the shirt. Threatening to mouth away at your breast. His large hands move from your waist, up, up to your breasts. Holding the weight of them, palms covering it all, he inspects it like it's his job. He looks up at you through his brows. Your mouth is open, unable to speak. “Huh Andrea?” He teases. A smirk twitching the edges of his mustache. 

Your mouth dry, you lick your lips and snap out of it. “We can’t kiss.”

He takes it as a go ahead, and it is. He kneads at your chest, palm grazing against your nipples and causing your legs to part. “Can I touch you like this?” It's husky and mocking, the way he’s already done it without asking. It's pathetic the way you’re allowing all of this to happen before you even have a serious conversation about everything that went down. You nod. 

“We can’t kiss–oh.” He lifts the shirt and attaches his wet mouth to your bare breasts. You moan, toes curling. “We can’t fuck.”

“I'm clean.” He mumbles against your breasts.

“Me too-that's not why–Javi…” Your breath catches in your throat when his free hand grabs a handful of your inner thigh. He’s like a starved man, you, a delicious meal out in front of him, prepared for devouring. Your hand comes to cover his. Moving with him while he moves up the inside of your thigh.

“Why not?” The both of you are staring at your hands conjoined, slipping dangerously close to the gusset of your panties. His eyes flick up to you but your mouth is agape and distracted by the closeness of him, about how he smells the same, how everything feels like before. Why is it so easy to fall back into him, why was it so hard to resist. 

Because it’s too much, I’ll tell you I love you again. I’ll never leave. I will never let you leave. His pointer finger grazes then slips in between your panties and your cunt. You were destined to fail your attempt at self preservation. “Just…” You lean back fully and you can feel him heat up beside you. “Just touch me, make me forget.” You whisper. Legs spreading he takes his place, on his knees in the space you’ve made. His hands make no hesitation, he grips at your simple cotton fabric and pulls them off swiftly. He stares, hands on your knees. Eyes hooded and his length hardening before your eyes. Licking his lips, his brows furrow. 

“Que quieres olvidar?” It comes out low, whispered and strained. He knows that this means more than just two horny exes rekindling for a night. He knows this comes with years of pain, and bliss and confusion. Slightly toxic, beautifully romantic. He knows this could never be just two people having casual sex, he ignores it anyway and so do you. 

You shut your eyes for a moment 

“Summer.” 

Is all you can think of. It answers everything. Javier’s jaw tightens, you watch the word take meaning in his brain and he nods. Good thing we have all other seasons, he thinks out loud, beyond a whisper. You know he’s your one and only. He leans forward and flips his green shirt up the slightest. He presses two wet kisses to your belly and whispers words unheard before inching his lips right where he’s needed most. His bottom lip ghosts over your clit and your stomach pits. He cuts through his breath with his hot and heavy tongue flicking you. “Mnm” It’s one touch and you're reduced to whimpers of jumbled letters. His pretty lips kissing and sucking at your bare cunt. 

“Still…” He grunts, before licking again from your pulsing hole up to your clit that's doing just the same. “Still taste so good.” His southern drawl that he loved to hide creeps up in moments like this. Moments when your face is flush and your chin is quivering from pleasure and agony. Your legs are spread wide and you feel your bruised and cut knee sting but your senses are overloaded so the pain is close to non-existence. You squirm and he murmurs, stay fucking still, before swinging your good leg over his shoulder and continue his feast. 

His hot mouth moves to your labia, sucking just to make noise, and back to your cunt that's weeping for him to just put a little bit of him in. But no Andrea-no. You're making such a mess of his face you feel slightly sheepish. His eyes are closed and he’s in his element between your legs. Chin quivering, you want to hold him, he’s reminding you that sex is fucked if its not with him. Your hands fly to the mess of hair on his head. Tugging and moving him, you sit up slightly. Finding him rutting his hips against the bed below him and you feel for him. Your hands slip from the back of his head down to his broad back, taking advantage of the width of him. The hand that found its place holding your thighs in place reaches to your sensitive knot of nerves. 

Thumbing you and your body drops back down on the bed. Desperate to scream and moan his name, your shaky hand grabs a pillow from next to you. You stuff your face, and weep against it. “Javi–I’m going to come– oh god please.”

His moan vibrates against your core and he drives. Sloppy and rushed, he rubs you out while his tongue fucks you. On the silent Christmas night you whimper against a bitten pillow while Javier makes out with your pussy. “You're so close baby– did this pretty little cunt miss me?”

“It did–no one compares–oh!” You shriek but it's muffled. He lets your other leg go and slips two fingers inside of your unexpecting cunt. He’s relentless, finger fucking you knuckle deep while his tongues makes its deft movements against and it was enough. You're gushing all over his hands, he moans at the sight, smiling at the way you writhe and hold the pillow against your made up face. Hips twitching while he coaxes you with kisses on your stomach. “Easy…” He holds your belly with the wet hand, settling your twitching form down. You always come this way when it's him, embarrassing to you when you come down, completely out of control of your body for a few seconds. You toss the pillow, white with black streaks of your mascara. 

He’s kissing you all over, lifting your shirt– his shirt, kissing your hip bone, kissing below your breasts, your neck, your jaw, your cheek, eyelids and the corner of your mouth. 

You lay side by side. Sweating and unsure what happens next. You let the sound of his ceiling fan play out for a moment.

“I thought about you every day.” He speaks and it's gravelly. “Sometimes I’d see something so horrible or embarrassing and think only Andrea would understand– only she would laugh with me.”

Chest rising with a stutter, you're on the verge of a sob. “I pay ten dollars a month for a Colombian newspaper subscription because they have a DEA column.” Suppose it was time to be honest. “Every time I saw a bee I thought of you.”

He chuckles next to you, “C’mere” He whispers and you move immediately. Finding your head on his chest and your arm snaked on his waist. His large palm covers the back of your head. You’re in heaven. Complete bliss. How have you been so strong without him? “I’m not taking time off, I was fired and paid to not expose the DEA.”

You nod against him, not entirely shocked. You never really liked the idea of Javi– Javi, who has so much good to offer- selling his soul to government agencies. It was a selfless thing he did for a selfish system. “I have birds.” You giggle, not having a great follow up. He laughs with you, your cheek vibrating. 

“What in the world are we doing?”

You have no fucking clue. But you think you understand him now, the way he wanted all of you before he left for Colombia. The way he seemed selfish to others to keep you wrapped around his finger when he had a flight booked. 

Now it's you leaving, you’ve got that flight, you’ve got a life elsewhere, yet you can't help but keep him while you can. 

“Being selfish. Or at least I am.” 

“No.” His response is quick and cutting. “You can do whatever you want to me. You can leave tomorrow and I’ll be satisfied that you gave me a chance again.”

Your brows furrow and you don’t like that at all. You hate to hear your own thoughts out of his lips. You don't scold him for being honest. “I leave two days after New Year's Day.” It's so dark in the room, still you look up at him when you say and you see his face unmoved. 

“Stay here… for the week I mean.” He's desperate, holding onto you. You want to kiss him. “Cancel your hotel, bring your things here. You know this is your home.” 

 “Okay.” You nod instead, “I will.”

“Good.” He smiles in the dark, his teeth illuminating the perfection that is his face. He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Good.” He says it to himself.

“Can we keep being honest?”

“Yes. I had a picture you taped to my desk.” 

“Must have scared all of your sexy female co-workers away.” You grin. 

“Sure did, doing your job from countries away.”

“Hm.” You catalog all that he has missed in your head, thinking what to tell him next. “Do you know Whitney Houston?”

“Eh.” 

“Well…the week after we broke up. When Lorraine was staying with you, I listened to ‘Saving All My Love For You’ and cried like every day.”

“Andrea…” He groans teasingly like you’re hurting him. “What was the song about?” 

You burn bright red, “Being the other woman…”

“Oh please.” He grunts, holding you tight against him. You almost forget you're completely bare from the waist down. “No seas tan ridícula” He mutters against your head while kissing you aggressively there. 

“Let's just sleep before I embarrass myself some more please!”

“Mmm good idea. I was close to telling about jerking off in a storage closet because someone smelled like you.”

Your mouth drops wide and you slap his chest, “Javi!” 

“All right I’ll save it for a less… holy day.”

Right, good ol’ JC’s B-day. 

“Fuck… I was making a mess of your bed on our lord's day.”

He shrugs. It’s so easy to just fall back into everything when it’s him. Like four years haven’t passed. 

“Well, consider it a Christmas gift.” 

You chuckle, “Well Merry fucking Christmas.”

 “Maybe I do know how to be your friend in the winter Andrea.”

It's a whisper, like a prayer.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Two Heroes, No Capes

Summary: Y/N is in trouble, and she knows just who to call for help.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: TW descriptions of a physical assault, mugging, violence implied, injuries, fear and shock, some discussion regarding sexual assault (no sexual assault takes place, or is described, but I want to be extra careful of people's triggers.)

Pairings: No romantic pairing. Jensen Ackles x teen!reader, Jared Padalecki x teen!reader

Word Count: 1,686

A/N: I got a request from the dear @kayyay1219 :

Ok so I’ve been in a J2xteen!reader phases for a while and I can’t help but want another one. So, I was thinking that the reader was out in the city by herself and she gets assaulted by a group of guys and she calls Jared and Jensen for help. So they come to her rescue and they see how bad her injuries are and they take her home and help her clean up.

So, this was what I came up with. I'm so sorry this took SO long to get to you hon! I hope you think it was worth the wait. ❤️

A/N 2: As always, this story is about a Jensen and Jared from a different part of the multiverse and doesn't reflect anything to do with their real life. This is a complete and utter work of fiction. 😊

The beautiful dividers below and at the bottom were created by @saradika

The fear was still pumping in her veins, the relentless throb making the newly formed bruises hurt a little more. Y/N raised her hand, and brushed her fingertips across the gash above her eyebrow. When she pulled her hand away and saw the blood dripping from her fingers, her panic increased.

A rational, calming voice floated into her wildly careening mind, speaking softly, deep and soothing.

It's okay, princess, head wounds bleed a lot, it's probably not as bad as it seems. 

She nodded absently to the voice and tried to take an inventory of what was hurting. Her head was pounding, a result of being punched in the face twice, no doubt, but she’d also smacked the back of it on the concrete when they'd pushed her backwards.

Probably a concussion, the voice told her. 

Her ankle was badly sprained, she knew, from when she'd tried to sprint away from them and lost her footing in one of the cracks criss-crossing the alley. Her body felt like one big bruise from where their fists had pummeled her as she struggled against them. She’d struggled, but they won - holding her down and taking her purse, her jewelry, and her new, expensive leather jacket. She breathed deeply and then grimaced in pain; she also thought she might have a broken rib.

Okay, princess, the voice said quietly, reassuringly, time to call for help.

Suddenly it was obvious to Y/N that the calm, caring voice in her head belonged to Jensen. Of course. She'd call the boys. One of them would likely be free to come help her. 

She dialed Jensen's number, glad the thieves hadn't taken her phone from her jeans pocket. It was a shitty old thing, they probably hadn't thought it was worth the bother. 

It rang twice before he picked up. 

"Hey, darlin'. Need a ride into work? I know night shoots suck." He asked, a smile in his voice. 

"No…don’t need a ride." Her voice was a croak, as tears and fear clogged it. Jensen heard immediately.

"Baby? What's wrong?"

"I need…I had…something happened. These guys, they jumped me…I didn’t notice them. I need someone to…I need help."

She heard Jensen's voice move away from the phone slightly as he called out.

"Jared! It's Y/N, she's hurt, come on!"

He spoke into the receiver again. "Hey, baby, everything's okay now." She actually smiled slightly; his voice was exactly as it had sounded in her head 

"Just tell us where you are, and we'll be there right away."

“I’m in the…the alley beside my building.” She looked down at herself and the dirt and blood that stained the white tank top and jeans she wore. “I’m bleeding, and they…they wrecked my shirt, they tore it.”

Jensen’s voice became softer. “It’s okay, Y/N, we're in the car now. We’re less than 5 minutes away. Jared’s calling the police; do you need an ambulance?”

Y/N shook her head before realizing that Jensen couldn’t hear her head shake. “No.” She said.

Her teeth began to chatter and her whole body began to vibrate as shock took over. “I don’t want…don’t wanna go to the hospital. I’m…I just want to go home. I can’t…I don’t think I can walk on my own, my ankle is…and my head’s…I’m kinda dizzy.”

“No, sweetheart, don’t try to move on your own. We’re so close now.” As he said it, Y/N could hear the screech of tires a block away as Jensen’s pickup truck squealed around the corner of her street and headed towards her block. 

She heard doors open and slam shut, and seconds later, Jensen and Jared loomed large, solid and reassuring at the entrance to the alleyway, silhouetted against the streetlights behind them. She sighed first, and then started crying.

They were here; she was safe.

They ran towards where she sat in the middle of the alley, skidding to a stop beside her and crouching down. The light in the alley was terrible, but Jensen did a quick sweep with his hands to see if anything seemed broken, while Jared held her gently, allowing her tears to seep into his t-shirt.

Seemingly reassured that there were no broken bones, Jensen scooped her up and carried her to her apartment. When they finally had her settled on her couch, with the lights shining bright overhead, she watched the fury bloom on their faces as they got their first good look at her injuries. 

“Who did this to you?” Jared asked as he sat down beside her and took her hand in his.

Jensen answered, his voice chillingly cold.. “Dead men. Dead men did this.” 

Jared shook his head. “Jensen.” He said warningly. “That’s not helping.”

Jensen’s jaw clenched and unclenched several times before he took a deep breath. “You’re right. Killing them can wait.” 

He walked away and returned a half minute later with a first aid kit and a cold cloth. He ran the cloth incredibly gently across her forehead and cheeks, and the coolness felt wonderful against her throbbing skin. They both spoke softly and reassuringly, and Y/N just let their words flow into her, and calm her racing heart and shaking limbs.

As the boys took turns using the first aid kit to tend to the cuts and bruises across her face, Jared seemed like he was working up to saying something. Finally he looked at Jensen and shook his head. In their usual silent communication, Jared seemed to be passing the conversation to Jensen. Y/N was curious what they were trying to say, so she finally just grabbed Jared’s hand where he was cleaning the particularly deep gash above her eyebrow.

“What is it?” She asked, worried her injuries were more dangerous than she’d thought. Maybe she should go to the hospital.

Jensen answered; he was on his knees in front of where she sat on the couch, but he still had to duck his head a bit, to be able to look her in the eye as he spoke.

“Baby, you said…earlier…” 

He took a breath, and tried again. “Sweetheart, you know nothing you say will change how much we love you, and we’ll…we’ll do whatever you need us to do.”

Y/N nodded; she did know that. From the moment she’d shown up on the set of Supernatural, the boys had taken her underwing like protective fathers, and even welcomed her into their homes happily, treating her as simply another member of their busy, beautiful families. They were the protectors and champions she’d always wanted, but had never been lucky enough to have. She trusted them and their love for her completely.

“So…” Jensen continued. “You said that, when I was talking to you before, you said that there was a group of people. They were guys?”

Y/N nodded.

“And you said…” Jensen gritted his teeth again harshly. “You said that they’d…ruined your shirt…tore it? Baby.” He pulled her shirt together where it was torn at the neck. “Baby, did they…hurt you?” At first Y/N was confused. Of course they hurt her, she was bruised and bleeding. But then she heard the way he put emphasis on the word “hurt”, and realized what kind of hurt he meant. 

She turned red, and shook her head quickly, looking at her lap and ignoring the way her skull ached. “No. I mean…no, they didn’t…didn’t hurt anything that won’t heal. They tore my shirt when they were grabbing and ripping at my necklace.”

Her eyes went wide and then filled with tears as she turned to Jared. “The necklace you got me for Christmas. They took it.”

“Oh, darlin’, don’t worry. I’ll buy you a new one, I promise.” Jared said as he pulled her head gently against his shoulder. 

Just then a knock came to the door. For the next half hour Jared and Jensen sat beside her as she gave a tearful accounting of the whole incident to the police officers who crowded into her small living room. They acted like twin pillars of strength, helping her through, and lending her their bravery when she needed it. 

Finally, the police left, advising that she go to the hospital because of her head injuries. The boys agreed and then, when she said again that she really didn’t want to go, they insisted.

Finally she caved, and within the hour she was admitted for observation at St. Francis Memorial. The boys stayed with her all night. Y/N dozed from time to time, but the nurses came in regularly to wake her up and ask her simple questions like where she was born or how to spell her name, just to make sure her concussion wasn’t getting worse. 

Whenever Y/N was awake, the boys would regale her with stories from when they were kids, stories from set, stories about their own kids. She had to keep telling them not to make her laugh so much - she had bruised ribs. 

When the morning came, and the doctors were satisfied with her test results and with the results of the CT Scan they’d done the night before, she was discharged and the boys took her home. By the time she got there, she was exhausted beyond belief. So, they simply tucked her up in her bed, and then pulled up chairs to sit beside her.

“You guys don’t have to stay.” She said with a deep yawn. “You must be exhausted too.”

They both raised their feet onto the bed beside her and leaned back in the chairs. “Yeah,” Jensen answered, “but we’re good here.”

Y/N considered arguing against their overprotectiveness, but admitted to herself that she needed it right now. So, she simply smiled at them, and snuggled deeper into her soft pillows and cozy blanket.

“Love you guys.” She said sleepily. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it kiddo.” They said together. 

Love it when they talk at the same time, she thought to herself with a smile as she drifted off to a peaceful sleep, knowing she was completely safe, with her heroes so nearby.

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman @mimi-luvzyu

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous

[jay-anxiety]

Loki x Fem! Reader

“My Hero”

Warnings and notes: probably ooc but I have an obsession with soft Loki; emotional vulnerability; possible part 2

———————————————————————————

Loki has been in this hellish cell for far too long. Day by day he’s questioned and accused and brought to his knees by these so called “Avengers.” He doesn’t even know how long he’s been there, what day it is. And every time he lies awake during the night, a bit more hope slips from him. He is angry and exhausted and waiting for an opportunity, any opportunity to get out.

Then, he hears footsteps. Gentle, soft footsteps that he is not used to. He wonders if they have sent someone new to torment him and he squeezes his eye shut, expecting the worst.

“Hello, darling.” A voice rings out into the air, a voice he recognizes. He shoots up and his eyes blow open as he sees you.

Beautiful you. Soft layered robes hitting the floor around you, you look weightless as you smile at him. He loses his voice as he sees you, eyes begging to know if you’re real or just a trick of his own mind.

“Don’t you remember me?” You say, silky sweet voice reaching his ears as he looks at you, finally hopeful.

“I do..” he says and hopes that you won’t disappear. His voice is weak and desperate and his body almost follows suit.

You smile. “Good,” and step through the barrier that Loki has spent god knows how long trying to break like nothing. You step close to him and extend a kind hand. “Come with me?”

Loki’s breath catches in his throat and he nearly cries. He looks at your hand for only a moment before standing and grabbing it like a lifeline, ready to follow you anywhere. “Are you sure?” He says like he’s scared of the possible disappointment of getting left behind again. Tears form in his eyes.

“Of course, my love.” You reply, voice so soft and reassuring. He doesn’t know what he feels, comfort? Relief? A tear slips from his water line as he feels your comforting hand come up to stroke his cheek and wipe away his tears. A shaky breath escapes him as he feels the warmth you enter him and course through his veins.

“You promise?” He asks, almost feeling pathetic as he searches for the reassurance. His hand tightening on yours.

“I swear it.” You say and squeeze his hand, your own eyes fighting emotion as his vulnerability courses through you. “Come on, darling. Let’s go, I’m going to take you home with me.”

You grip his hand and lead him, phasing the both of you through the cell and out of the door. You put a protective barrier around you both, guards and hero’s trying and failing to stop you as you hold him close and lead him out of the building. You tug him aboard your ship be give your pilot a nod. He starts the ship and within a few seconds, you are coasting away from Earth.

His body relaxes as the ship leaves Earth. Breath still shaking, scared he may wake up and find out it’s all a dream. He looks at you. And you smile at him.

“We’ll be at my home soon, darling, I promise.” You say as you hold his face in your hands, grounding him. You lead him to your large bedroom, a full window beside your bed and a luxurious bathroom attached. Like royal quarters in space. You lead him into the bathroom and begin to run the bath, grabbing spare robes from the closet. “You need to relax, I’ll leave you to take a bath and rest. You tell me if there is anything you need and I’ll get it for you.”

He looks around and then to the bathe, watching you leave with a warm smile on both your faces. He spends a long while soaking the dirt, sweat, and stress off of himself. Once he finally gets out, he puts on the soft robes of excellent quality that you had obviously brought just for him. Different shades of green threads woven together with gold, but still soft as clouds. He spends a few moments feeling the soft fabric between his fingers with a smile.

When he finally exits the bathroom, he finds you sitting peacefully on the couch near the window, looking at the stars. When you hear his footsteps, you perk up and turn to him with a smile, standing to tug him over to look out into the vast beauty of the galaxy.

“My darling I’ve missed you so much. They will never get to you again, I swear it.” You bring your hands up to hold his face, looking at him with so much love he thinks his cold heart may as well come out of his chest. “Anything in the universe you want, you’ll have it. As long as you’re with me, all you have to do is say the word. I’d give you galaxies, my love.”

He looks back at you, your words sinking into him and making his body temperature rise. He sees the sincerity in your eyes and knows you mean your words. “Anything?” He asks, unsure of himself.

“Anything.” You say with conviction, confident in the fact that you’d tear down civilizations, burn worlds, harness stars for him.

“I want you.” He says, so quietly you barely hear him. But you do and you smile, heart full. “Just you, that’s all I need now.” He brings his hands up to your face as your hands drop to his chest as he steps so close you can feel his desperate breath fanning your face.

“You have me, for however long you want.” You say, looking at him as if he’s hung the stars as you smile, full of love.

To Loki, at that moment, you are the stars. You created the galaxies, you shaped the planets with soft, gentle hands, and you blew your stardust on moons. He stares at you, drinking you in like the finest of Asgaurdian wines.

As much as you wish to let him gaze at you that way forever, his words and his touches and his eyes have lit a burning fire in you. You grow impatient, wanting to be content in letting him do as he pleases, but needing the sweet taste of his lips on yours. Lean into him, chests breathing with one another as you gently place your lips on his.

He breaths out a sigh he doesn’t know he’s been holding as he feels your soft, delicate lips on his soft ones. He groans and becomes hyperaware of everywhere you are. In that moment, he is entirely consumed by you. He feels like his heart is soaring and his mind is drowning in you, and he is more than happy to let himself sink. His body keens to yours as he caresses your face in that desperation to succumb to you.

His desperation to feel you, to have you, is palpable as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, falling with him into the blissful feeling of each other. You can feel his hands on your face and you can feel his breath and it’s all so overwhelming in the best way it ever could be.

The two of you break away from one another, still holding each other as he presses his forehead to yours. Neither of you open your eyes, content with the feeling of mutual longing for touch.

Loki whispers, “Thank you,” as he brings strong arms to hold you around your waist, gripping you with the hold of a man who has everything to lose.

———————————————————————————

Aaaaand I did it, my first fic. I would love any feedback or constructive criticism if anyone that sees this has any 💕💕💕💕

[wifey-ohara]

Hobie Brown & Younger Sibling!Reader

Thought of these while washing the dishes

Gen: some angst/fluff

A/n: idk if he he ran away or got kicked out, so i did both, and i made the spider bite hurtful asf (i did sreach for both but i didnt get clear answers)

💙You two have the same mother, just different father.

🩵you're 2-3 years younger than him.

💙calls you, kid/lil'one/trouble that sort of thing.

🩵both cried over math homework together, now he just burns them over the stove.

💙bad family, so you two both kinda teamed up to protect one another.

🩵School was a game for both of you, if you had one big school from elementry/primary to high school, he would definitely flunk off, come to your class, stand at the door and calls for you saying stuff like "this is useless, n' y'know it get ova'ere" till the teacher closes the door.

💙If each school level is separate, he'd also flunk off comes to your school under your class's window and either have boards in which he writes the most random thing as you try not to laugh, or he'll yell the same sentences from above.

🩵if he ran away, he would come to you and tell you his plan, how much he loves you, and he'll try to keep on touch with you and meet you from time to time.

💙you refused to let him go, he was your brother, your best friend, your everything, so you decided to go with him.

🩵he tried to get you to stay, but then again he didn't have room to argue about it seeing that he's running as well.

💙if he got kicked out, you'd cause hectic in the house and leave.

🩵when you find him, he's shocked, also tries to get to return back home, he's more persistent this time, but you tell him it's home without you in it, to which he tears up, try to hide it bc obviously, and give you a tight hug, which you return.

💙he has his guitar, you have your beautiful voice.

🩵you often feature in his concerts.

💙once you sang "brother" by to him in a concert, and he almost cried right then and there (i wanna write a fic/drabble about it).

🩵you droped out of high school and started doing jobs, same for him.

💙and then the spider bit him.

🩵you weren't there when it happened, but you arrived shortly after.

💙you just held him to your chest as he screamed, cried and kicked from the pain of the bite, arms tight around himself (brabble-able).

🩵you sang him to sleep that night and a few nights after.

💙he was so scared that he'd hurt you and tried to push you away and even go back home, so lots of comfort.

🩵And then when he started fighting crime, he used the custom you drew him.

💙you help sometimes, he'll let you climb his back as he swings around, beating up bitches left and right.

🩵He bought you a double blade backpack.

💙so now he has his axe and you have your blades.

🩵he cusses and swears alot, you don't, and you actually lecture and scold him about it.

💙when the spider society tried to get him to join them, he refused to go anywhere without you, and threatened and attacked many spider people whenever they mentioned leaving you behind.

🩵miguel deemed you useful as you two usually work together and accepted hobie's condition of bringing you along.

💙turned out you were tech-smart and you helped alot around miguel's lab.

🩵you made adjustments to make you more useful to hobie on missions, to for hobie too.

💙you're now the tech-hero.

🩵tech-hero and spider-punk? Un-beatable!

💙you two are very, very close.

🩵your rooms are a wall apart, and contacted by the bathroom.

💙in-home concerts are almost a daily thing now.

🩵you two communicate your feelings alot by music.

💙once he wrote a song for you and one of lines were "i swear I'd die for you, little one" and you ignored him the whole day.

🩵when asked what's up, you broke down crying saying that you wouldn't want him to die, especially for you.

💙it became "i swore I'd live for you and i will".

🩵that became your reassuring phase.

💙as in physical reassuring, an arm over the other's shoulder + two squeezes means "I'm here for you", putting your hand over his + a squeeze means "back at you".

🩵then miles showed up..

💙you of course were on your brother's side, using your tech to help miles.

🩵you learnt, healing amd medical stuff just in case your brother got hurt.

💙after all of that, and rejoining the spider society, your lives returned to a normal rhythm,, somewhat, as normal as to hero siblings could get it to normal.

🩵you and hobie became friends with the other teens.

💙you'd have sleepovers with them, where you and hobie sing for them.

🩵you two annoy miguel to no end by pulling pranks.

💙hobie scares anyone that tries flirting or get with you, it pisses you off.

💙but if it's unwanted, he will hurt them.

🩵if anyone touches you, he'd cut their arm off.

💙you tease him about his love life, but if you sense the tiniest bit of a red flag from them, you'd take him to the side and tell him.

🩵he'll leave that person the moment he returns.

💙If your hair is long enough braids/locs/dreads all the time.

🩵if not then he'll play with your hair till you sleep, in return you'd sing him to sleep.

💙show binge nights all the time.

🩵happy life all around now:)).

A/N2: this turned out longer than expected! But i love it<33,Imma start writing either miguel&teen!Reader Angst hcs or ben&child!Reader angst fluff hcs

[xoruffitup]

The Complementarity and Divergence of Furiosa & Dementus, A(n Obsessive) Meta

Fresh off Furiosa Round 4, I’m full of thoughts about how the film mirrors and contrasts Furiosa and Dementus’ hero/villain journeys. We see both characters evolve and grow through the 5 chapters of the film, moving through distinct phases of change. We see them each fighting a similar struggle to keep not just their lives, but some shred of humanity amid the ravages of the wasteland.

Their journeys are intimately intertwined, their decisions wreaking profound effects on the other. Their parallel arcs explicitly converge in their final confrontation, not just physically but thematically:

(Forgive the vaguely remembered dialogue lol)

“I was just like you, craving a belly full of vengeance after my beauties were taken from me so cruelly, immutably.” “I’m nothing like you.” “You are. Searching for some sensation to push away the inky black. We are the already dead, Little D.” 

Dementus’ color-changing cloak and the teddy he and Furiosa each, at some point, possess are the physical symbols of their progression along what is ultimately the same character trajectory.

Dementus is coded first in white, then in red, then in black. Though more subtly, Furiosa progresses through the same three stages: innocence -> trial -> temptation/corruption. The question, however, is exactly when, where, and whether Furiosa is able to disentangle herself from the example Dementus has laid before her.

So let me break this down one movie chapter at a time! I’m going to try to hit their key qualities at each stage, and explore how they move in ways both in complement and opposition to each other as the film progresses.

1. The Pole of Inaccessibility  Consider two lesser-used definitions of “pole”: 1) "each of the two opposite points on the surface of a magnet at which magnetic forces are strongest"; 2) "one of two opposed or contradictory principles or ideas." This first chapter is where the two mighty opposing forces of Furiosa and Dementus are introduced. Furiosa: Youthful, innocent, brimming with a vibrancy of compassion. The first shot we see of her, she’s taking a risk to pick a second peach – the peach meant for Valkyrie. Even as Valkyrie whispers “We should go,” Furiosa is resolved to carry through this act of altruism. 

Dementus: Maybe, once upon a time, he wasn’t The Worst. :) Even though in Chapter I he’s already halfway there, there’s a distinct difference between who he is at the start of the film vs its end. No question, he’s already power hungry and reprehensible. What he does to Mary and Furiosa is plenty proof of that. However, we meet him as a man in control. Control over himself, over his people, over his rage and his passions. We’re first introduced to him as a pseudo-scholar, even, as he sits in his white cloak listening to the History Man’s oral treatise. He is the single calm, steadying presence in the tent, as his men whip themselves into frenzy trying to find a bearing to the Green Place. He’s a self-assured, calculating figure, set on achieving his goal – no matter the gruesome means. 

Convergence: Dementus recognizes the strength and fire in Furiosa, in her determination to hide her home. He then inflicts Furiosa’s character-defining loss and trauma. (“You must not look away.”) It bears noting, though, that his torture of Mary is not for its own sick sake – he does it in attempt to get information out of her, or out of Furiosa by forcing her to watch. He has a practical goal in mind. But later, he will become increasingly willing to engage in sadism for lesser justifications.

2. Lessons From The Wasteland  Furiosa grows up exposed to Dementus’ ‘lessons’ of what constitutes strength in the wasteland. Will she adopt his teachings?

Furiosa: We cover a lot of ground here. Her captivity in Dementus’ horde, her being traded to Immortan Joe, and her slipping out from both her captivity and her female-presenting gender as she begins her rise through the power hierarchy of the Citadel. Without doubt, her time in Dementus’ horde refines her hatred towards him (recall that shiver-inducing moment when she’s sitting in her cage and muzzle, glowering at Dementus with absolute abject hate in her eyes), but her defining trait at this point appears to be apathy as a pointed form of resistance.

She never responds when Dementus speaks to her. When he first tries to give her the teddy, she drops it in the sand. She turns away even from the History Man, when he offers to teach her. Her silence, her refusal to acknowledge her situation or surroundings, is a constant and restless rebellion. She does not and never will accept these people as her own, will never allow herself to become part of Dementus’ world. She builds invisible yet impenetrable walls around herself – in self-defense, to some degree, but also to make sure Dementus never forgets. She does not and never will belong here, nor will she belong to him. She sure as hell will never forget. This sense of self-separation from her surroundings as a form of internal resistance continues once she enters the Citadel. She draws resilience from her seed, holding it against her forehead and hardening her resolve to become whoever and whatever it takes for her to escape this place. She cuts her hair, slips away into the ungendered shadows of the Citadel, and then begins her rise from invisibility to dogman. She may be willing to strip away all outer signs of her true self, but all is in service of ultimately returning to that identity in the only place where it will be safe to do so – back home in the Green Place.

Dementus: The first scene of this chapter (the five-bike teddy), establishes two crucial aspects of his character. 1) This man looooves to put on a fucking show. He loves to yap in as theatrical and over-the-top a manner as possible. He thrives on having an audience, and will gas up both his charisma and brutality as much as necessary to hold it. 2) He once had and lost a family. The first time he hands the teddy to Furiosa, he tells her it once belonged to his little ones. 

Then, the scene where he meets the lone war boy and learns of the Citadel. The moment when the true games of power commence. Here, Dementus ascends into a new playing field – a grander, more high-stakes cause. His formerly white cloak is dyed red by the flare of skyblood, as he thrills at the idea of a new class of power, as he tastes a new form of greed. The corruption takes him quickly. To besiege Gastown, he’s willing to sacrifice his own men. The Octoboss’ outrage (“You’re scum, Dementus!”) shows this to be a decisive break from whatever level of collateral damage Dementus accepted up to this point. Then, with Gastown under his thumb, he seizes his place among the rulers of the wasteland fortresses. He wants to be called “the great Dementus” now.

Convergence: Dementus doesn’t just try to claim Furiosa as his daughter, he tries to remake her in his own image. In giving her the teddy he carries as a memento of his own children, he attempts to saddle and shape her with the same mantle of loss. She’s lost her family, just like he has. In a twisted way, he thinks that by tearing her mother from her, he’s helped strengthen her. (“It made this one tough enough to survive whatever comes. I did that for her. I did that for her,” he says to Immortan Joe and partially to Furiosa herself, admitting that he did, as Furiosa clarifies, “slaughter my mother.”) He knows what havoc that loss wrought on him, and expects it to warp Furiosa in the same way. He calls her “Little D” not really because he sees her as his child, but as a burgeoning version of himself. Yet despite all his alleged suffering, he’s resolute and powerful enough to command his horde. He holds himself in high regard, and seems to think that in time Furiosa will come around to see things his way. In time, she will become like him – a bit unwound, a lot formidable. She’ll rise to the mantle of “Little D,” no matter how viciously she rejects and decries the name now, along with any association with him at all. 

But this changes when she at last speaks – as she voices her firm “No” when Joe asks whether Dementus really is her father. With one word, she decries and rejects the path Dementus has tried to lay before her – the path mirroring his own. While it’s clear that Dementus, to some extent, entered the negotiations with Furiosa as a back-pocket bargain chip (why else is she swathed in bridal-veil white, like an offering), I’m not convinced it was all a negotiation tactic when he objects, “No, she’s not for sale. She’s mine.” But after she speaks, after she rejects his claim on her, his resistance evaporates. He trades her without a parting word, and snatches the teddy back from her hands – the mantle of his grief and his struggle; the symbol of lost innocence, replaced with demented, heartless violence.

This is a burden she rejects. She will grow from her loss and her trauma in her own way. She’d rather throw herself into unknown dangers, onto the questionable mercy of Immortan Joe, than remain under Dementus’ influence. In this, she will not be apathetic or distanced.

3. The Stowaway  In a sense greater than just stowing away under the war rig, Furiosa stows away amid the operations of the Citadel itself, waiting until the time is right to steal away from this society completely.

Furiosa: This is her crucial period of independent growth, separate from any warlord’s influence. By escaping from the vault (and from Rictus), she begins to define survival on her own terms. By working her way steadily, stealthfully up the Citadel’s ranks, she strives for the access to resources and freedom of movement that will enable her eventual escape. Everything she does is calculated, everything serves the long-term utility of making her way home. 

She becomes a part of the hierarchy and ecosystem of the Citadel, now, breaking from her earlier self-isolation. Yet her driving force, her values, her purpose never waver. She remains steadfastly fixed on her goal of escape. She cares only for ascension and status if it serves her ultimate purpose of returning home. Her loyalty is first and solely to the Green Place and the sisters she left behind there.

This does not change, per se, when she makes her deal with Jack and becomes Praetorian at his side. What draws her to Jack, what inspires her trust and devotion to him is the way he embodies the very qualities of her home and her people – the very things she’s fighting to return to. In Jack, she rediscovers a bit of that comfort, that compassion and selflessness that has been her dream for so long. He brings a piece of the home she’s fighting for into her life at the Citadel, and with this reminder comes reassurance that her dream is real, her dream is possible. 

He wants to help her while asking nothing for himself in return. He is the first to see her for the true version of herself – the version that belongs not to the Citadel and Immortan Joe, but to some distant, unknown place of promise. He believes in this true version of her even before she confides its evidence in him, when she shows him the peach pit. Her loyalty doesn’t become split between Jack and the Green Place; they reinforce each other. She cherishes him and their bond because he represents all that she’s been fighting towards all this time: the truth that there is moreto her existence, more to the human heart than the raw, selfish lust for survival and sustenance. 

I saw a brilliant post that contrasted Dementus and Jack’s influences on Furiosa. On one hand, there’s the narcissism in which Dementus tried to “train” her as a child into his same brand of hatred and violence – how Furiosa had to become “indispensable” to Dementus if she wanted his protection. By contrast, Jack trained her in road war so that, one day, he would become dispensable to her. (hahaha kill me please. ;__;) 

With Jack at her side and his presence reminding her that what she seeks is something real, something tangible, she is driven by hope more powerful than ever before. Her return to the Green Place – to its physical abundance but also the altruism, compassion, and kinship it represents – feels closer at hand than ever before.

(No Dementus or Convergence section here, this chapter belongs to her and Jack alone <33)

4. Homeward Bound  More than just her and Jack’s plan to make for the Green Place together; forging her bond with Jack already brings her closer to the memory of the Green Place (closer to home) than she has been since she was taken.

And now…. THE PAIN.  Furiosa: I would argue this is the chapter of the film where her character arc is most sharply and deeply altered. As she and Jack approach the Bullet Farm, their joint purpose is clear: leave all of this behind and drive off together to something better, something kinder. 

But then, Jack is trapped inside, she outside, enemies between them. Furiosa is immediately torn. She has her escape vehicle, bikes, food and supplies all ready for the leaving. Her route back home is literally laid out before her feet. But driving away would mean abandoning Jack behind that gate, leaving the person who made it all possible to certain death. 

He fires the green flare in a bid for her to leave him behind. He’s going to stay, he’s going to keep Dementus and his horde occupied while she escapes, he’s going to fight for her and her Green Place in his own way. 

But seeing that green flare is what makes Furiosa realize she couldn’t possibly drive away. Because what would she be driving towards, if she abandoned him? If she leaves behind the one person in whom she’s confided her true self, her greatest secret – wouldn’t that mean that the part of the Green Place she’s carried with her all this time has finally died away? 

We’re reminded of Mary choosing to spare the woman’s life when she rescued Furiosa in Chapter I. This post beautifully pointed out that the narrative never frames such acts of mercy as wrong or foolish, no matter their tragic consequences. As the audience, we want to see Mary’s essence live on in her daughter. We want to see that mercy survive – that belief in the inherent good in people that separates the Vuvalini from the wasteland warlords. That is the mantle we want to see Furiosa carry with her as she grows. 

What Furiosa chooses here isn’t about the pragmatism of survival. This is the wasteland. Stupid, reckless, suicidal decisions are made every single day without a moment’s hesitation. When she makes her choice and backs the car up, she shows a kind of strength most in the wasteland have forgotten. She proves that she remains faithful to all the Green Place represents – she proves that she is incorruptible, indominatable.

Dementus: Meanwhile, Dementus is having a rough week. While he might excel in the kind of kamikraze maneuvers that won him Gastown, turns out he’s not so great at running things. When Furiosa sees him through the window of the rig during the nearly-disastrous supply trade at Gastown, it’s the first time she’s seen him since childhood. He’s grey, grizzled, and worn down. As then becomes clear through his behavior in the Bullet Farm fight and ensuing chase, his hold on reason and control is becoming ever more attenuated. 

He has little to no boundaries anymore – everything is acceptable collateral. He uses one of his men as a human shield against Furiosa’s sniper rifle. He taunts and mocks his own henchman. (“The other arm! Have you lost your touch!?” when his people string up Furiosa by her uninjured arm.) His grandstanding evil-villain speech once Furiosa and Jack are caught no longer feels commanding or delightfully bombastic – now it rings of the desperate ravings of a mad man on the edge. 

He knows he’s losing control – of Gastown, and his ever more tenuous hold on his position in the tripartite trade route. He needs to bargain for more food and water for the people of Gastown if he wants to avoid a full-scale riot, but can’t increase guzzoline output to get it. In taking over the Bullet Farm, he’s made a desperate move from which he knows there’s no going back. Either he consolidates his hold on two fortresses of the wasteland and forces the Immortan to agree to his terms, or he’ll be destroyed by Joe and the Bullet Farmer in alliance. 

Convergence: And then Furiosa and Jack arrive, and blow the Bullet Farm sky high. (“The day I take over the Bullet Farm, these two destroy it!”) Dementus’ risky new conquest is worth nothing, and he’s left with nothing but the consequences – an army surely soon bearing down on him. 

But then, even after being caught, Furiosa and Jack commit what is, to Dementus, an even graver crime. They strip him of the power on which he relies most: his eager, fearful audience, hanging on his every word. They render him invisible, utterly inconsequential as they refuse to listen or even look at him, as they refuse to break down in the misery and hopelessness he so desperately tries to instill in them. They are beyond his reach, absorbed in only each other. Dementus captured them, yet he finds he has no power to disrupt, destroy, or even to intrude into their final moments together. (What’s that on my keyboard? Oh just TEARS)

He makes a big deal out of the bond that clearly exists between them, yet does not show contempt towards their shared devotion. Instead, it is an ugly, raw kind of envy. They remind him not only of what he once had and lost in his family, but how bleak of a destination the path he forged through his loss has led him to. (“Look how they fought for each other, this army of two. Where were they going, so full of hope? There is no hope!”) 

For him, loving another person leads to only one thing: loss, darkness, hopelessness. All that remains to him is his crusade for conquest, growing more empty, more futile by the day. But now, even as Furiosa and Jack face certain death, even as they find themselves at the end of their shared road, they don’t succumb to the inky black. They’re untouched by it, invulnerable to the ravages Dementus is so convinced await anyone foolish enough to love. How dare they continue to believe in their love, continue to draw strength from it, even when its life has been cut short?

“You two break my heart. You make me the dark Dementus,” he says, sounding not only enraged but distinctly mournful. And so he descends even deeper into his own darkness. We were first introduced to him shrouded in white, then witnessed his transformation into the Red Dementus, as his lust for power took a taste to warlord status. Now, his cloak accumulates more and more black, his soul growing more tarnished by the day.

But what of Furiosa? Her moment of resolve at the gates of the Bullet Farm was her strongest commitment yet to the values and compassion she’s secretly harbored in her heart all this time. Those final moments she shared with Jack were also proof that acting in love and tenderness grants a singularly invincible kind of strength - a kind the wasteland cannot touch (even if only for a moment).

But something happens to her here, as she witnesses Jack’s torment, as she watches her dream of escape broken across the sands. 

“Rage, fueled by grief,” says the History Man’s voiceover, as Furiosa cuts her hair (with Jack’s knife, stab me plz) back at the Citadel, reborn as the avenging angel she’s about to become. 

Before this moment, though, we see her choose to return to the Citadel. She’s out in the desert on her own, with a bike, and she conceivably could have gone anywhere, even headed east as she originally planned. (Though the blood loss from her arm and lack of supplies considerably narrowed her choices…) Even after she crawls out from the maggot den, she could have easily blended into the anonymous mob and slipped away forever. Immortan Joe would never know what happened to her and Jack on that ill-fated supply run, after all.

Instead, she makes her way to the platform and demands entry to the Citadel. “I am the Praetorian Furiosa!” she screams. This moment is the first time she lays iron-clad claim to her identity within the Citadel’s ranks. This is the first time she vocally embraces her status within its power structure. As a dogman, she was silent and efficient, earning her keep while doing her best to avoid undue notice. Even being Praetorian was merely a disguise for what she and Jack both knew to be her true motives, her true allegiance. After being ambushed and losing Jack, she could have walked away from the disguise and this whole world for good. She could have decided that there was nothing here worth fighting for, and let herself wither away beneath the weight of all her loss.

She decidedly does not. Dementus’ attempts to break her, to crush her spirit and her hope for good, had the exact opposite effect. He gave her a reason to put her own skin in the game at last, a reason to finally leverage the influence she’s slowly accumulated over all these years towards a new goal – to take her place shoulder-to-shoulder with the men who claim dominance over this land and its resources. But unlike them, her goal is not hegemonic control and enforced subservience. Her goal is vengeance.

At this juncture, she stands on a razor-thin precipice between finding and losing herself. Jack’s death has tipped the scales towards tying herself, in some way, to the power struggles of the wasteland. But remember, her love for Jack is one and the same as her enduring love for the Green Place and all it represents. They are each borne of her compassionate heart. But it is now that same heart that craves glorious and bloody vengeance for the loss of all that was dear to her. 

Now, after this devastating blow to her fragile, ever-threatened faith that people can be different from the cruelty of the wasteland, will that faith endure? Or will it be snuffed out for good – leaving her a dark, revenge-ridden fury who decries feeling as weakness, just like Dementus?

5. Beyond Vengeance  The final stage in Furiosa’s journey – transforming into someone driven by, yet neither defined nor consumed by vengeance. She is strong enough to control its force, and to discover a new life beyond it.

Furiosa: This post brilliantly pointed out the parallels between chapters I and V. Furiosa grows from captive to huntress. Like her mother before her, she pursues a lone group of bikers across the sands, sighting them in the scope of her sniper rifle. Like in chapter I, the chase ends with Furiosa coming face-to-face with Dementus. Only this time, she is the one in control and he rendered powerless. 

She appears as a vengeful, righteous force – the darkest of angels. Her pursuit will not be stopped, her hunger for retribution will not be slaked.

Dementus: “I have nothing. I am nothing,” he tells the approaching Furiosa, holding his hands in the air. And it’s true. He’s lost his fortresses, lost his horde. He’s even, by his own doing, lost the most loyal of his former followers. Without a second thought, he offered them each up as bait in effort to escape the justice he knew was coming for him alone. He has no morals, no scruples, no power, no defenders, and no heart. 

Convergence: Furiosa first appears to Dementus swathed in his own blackened cloak. For all that she refuted his attempts to shape her in his own image as a child, his murder of Jack and destruction of her dream of escape have awakened in her the exact kind of ravenous, pitiless black hole Dementus was convinced lay in her future after her mother’s death. The black hole of vengeance to whose edge he tried to drag her to, right along with him. Now, she removes her face covering and looks down at him with eyes brimming with all the fervor of that black, icy hate he once tried to instill in her. It’s a satisfying kind of poetic justice, perhaps, that he himself becomes its target in the end.

Here, appropriating his blood and shadow-soaked cloak, she becomes the dark Furiosa – complement to his dark Dementus. But will that darkness consume her, the same way it has him? Or will she become its master, tempering its edge and its fury to serve her own ends? 

It bears remembering that it is only after Jack’s death that her path shifts from escape to retribution. Her hatred for Dementus never faded, but she long understood that to pursue vengeance against him would be to tie herself to the hateful, heartless ways of this wasteland world; it would threaten not just her physical but her spiritual escape – it would jeopardize her ability to reawaken a softer, kinder version of herself that knew the love of the Vuvalini. 

But now, Dementus has foreclosed that choice to her. She can’t return to who she used to be, because of all he’s taken from her – not just her loved ones, but the heart that loved them in the first place. “My mother, my childhood, I want them back.” Her heart and soul are world-weary; her faith in the promise of the Green Place struggles to endure. For how can such a place, in all its beauty and abundance, truly exist in a world where both her mother and Jack were tortured to death? How can she keep her faith in a world where the kind-hearted meet such grisly ends?

But then: “I’ll hear it. I’ll hear it for the rest of my days. I’ll feel the kickback in my hand.” Her course is set. There is no question that she’s going to kill Dementus, right here and now. But the larger question begins to come to the fore: what will killing him do to her? Will it heal her or only further hollow her heart? Will this vengeance be what defines her forevermore?

She sheds the cloak. She cuts the teddy from Dementus’ belt and holds it in her hand, regarding it. And this is the moment where she must confront her future. When Dementus at last recognizes her as the girl whose life he destroyed, and she must choose her path: to follow his or to leave it, for good.

“I’ve been waiting for you, for someone worthy of me,” he says, seeing himself in her, at last. Trying to wrest some small victory from this. He is in awe of her, but only as an extension of himself.

“I am nothing like you,” she spits. She says the words with blistering conviction, but the tear that slips down her face belies her certainty. Because she knows that he has chipped away at her soul, that she stands before him, tormenting him in her own way, only because of all he’s done to her. She knows, in truth, that there’s no possible way for her to claim victory from this confrontation. Whatever she does to him, whatever “righteous perversity” she inflicts on him in the name of justice, it will have been his influence that made her capable of it in the first place. She hits him again, again, again, and with each blow she only chips away at herself a bit farther; her soul only becomes a bit more enervated.

“You can never balance the scales of their suffering. … You’re never going to get anything close to what you want,” Dementus taunts her. Inescapably, he’s right. Furiosa’s strength lies in her difference from the violence-hungry men of the wasteland, who dole out only savagery and hoard all else for themselves. No matter how much Dementus deserves torment and execution, killing him will only draw her deeper into the midst of such men. 

She drops the teddy into the sand. She steps off the path he tried to set for her. She glares down at Dementus for the last time, her eyes at once hard with hate for him and soft with tears for herself.

And here: the film’s masterstroke of a conclusion. The film’s core premise is not simply a matter of warmongers vs pacifists; male violence vs female nurture; good vs evil; justice vs chaos. This world is not so black-and-white as all that. In the end, Furiosa’s moral convictions are treated with the same mercurial fluidity and indefinability as her gender presentation. In the film’s final minutes, in the way her final vengeance takes on the elusive shape of myth, she is transformed into a being superior to all such reductive classifications. 

She need not choose between the ways of the Vuvalini and the men of the wasteland – she can be both. Her presence and power are vast enough to harness the dichotomy for her own empowerment, her own self-determination. She can harness her rage, her blistering fury, her spitting hate – and she can channel it towards a cause of protection, even an act of creation. She can inflict a singularly gruesome, twisted form of torture on Dementus, and from it grow fruit to nourish faith in the future. She can seize and co-opt the male-dominated levers of power, and turn them towards her own ends. She can wield savage “male” strength to challenge all that makes it “male” to begin with. 

And yet, for all this bold indeterminacy, one thing remains concretely unquestionable. Her faith and her love endure. More than that – they are her driving force. They are what sets her apart, what makes her singularly formidable even beneath the weight of loss and heartbreak. Such is her final triumph. At heart, she ends the film unchanged from how she began: plucking a piece of fruit, the priceless treasure to be gifted to another.

[emblemxeno]

Fire Emblem Heroes-CYL Bonus Quotes + My Ideas for the Ones Who Don't Have Them

Choose Your Legends Winners have bonus quotes when they are on a team you enter a map with and playing with English voices (only the English voices have these quotes actually)! These are popular or funny quotes from their home games or other appearances, like Smash Bros.

CYL1

"The future is *not* written."-Lucina's victory quote in Smash Bros.

"Roy's our boy!"-Roy's crowd chant in Smash Bros.

"I'll be your peerless warrior!"-Lyn's promising words to Mark at the end of FE7 prologue

"You... like Ike?"-Ike's crowd chant in Smash Bros.

CYL2

"Take me with you!"-Veronica... I think she says this once to Bruno, but I can't find where specificailly

"Together, we will always stay."-Ephraim's A Support with Eirika

"Nothing will ever come between us."-Celica to Alm as kids during Echoes' opening movie

"I just gotta be me, y'know?"-Hector's A Support with Lyn

CYL5

"Let's go rescue my brother!"-Eirika to her troops at the end of FE8 chapter 6

"Caeda, what's wrong!?"-Marth to Caeda in FE1 chapter 1

"Please forgive me, Goddess..."-A constant sentiment of Marianne's character, and said verbatim once she slays her first enemy in FE16 chapter 2

"There was something to report, wasn't there?"-A staple of Gatekeeper's dialogue, said verbatim in FE16 chapter 5

CYL6

"I am *no* chatterbox."-Reference to Hapi's nickname for Byleth

"There is more than one truth."-What Sigurd's ghost says to Seliph, after Seliph lands the finishing blow on Arvis and waits next to the beach in FE4 chapter 10

"My... autograph?"-Tiki's C Support with Anna

"You are yourself."-Chrom's consoling words to Robin in FE13 chapter 13

CYL8

"Now... what was so damned important?"-F!Robin's B Support with Chrom

"You must be joking."-Felix during his Goddess Tower event in FE16 chapter 9

"One day... I'll be left alone."-A reference to the correct response to one of her advice box questions during FE16's war phase (this one I'm not 100% on, if anyone has corrections let me know in the replies)

"I'm going to kill you, too."-Alfonse to Letizia during Book 6, Chapter 5, Part 5: I Killed Him

However, the winners of CYL3 (2019), CYL4 (2020), and CYL7 (2023) don't have these bonus quotes. The reasons, if the directors or higher ups of the localization team forgot or they weren't too high priority for the time, are unknown. So I thought I'd take a stab at what I think they'd be for those winners.

CYL3

"I'll have their heads on a platter!"-Camilla at the of FE14 chapter 3

"I'm proud I took your hand."-Eliwood's A support with Hector

"I have finally found my purpose."-Micaiah at the end of FE10 chapter 3-F

"This isn't where things end for us!"-Alm to Celica before returning to face Duma together in Echoes Act 5

CYL4

"You think I'm special?"-Lysithea's A support with Claude

"We'll scale the walls between us!"-Claude during Verdant Wind's final cutscene

"Take your first step!"-Edelgard to the Black Eagles after escaping the Holy Tomb

"I am finally home again..."-Dimitri at the end of Azure Moon chapter 18

CYL7

"Remember where you came from."-Mikoto to Corrin at the end of FE14 Revelation chapter 24

"My only wish was to see you again."-Soren to Ike in their base conversation in FE10 Endgame 5

"A gift of revelation..."-Seiðr to the Summoner, Book 7, Chapter 5, Part 1: Goddess's Descent

"Get eaten by a bear. I don't give a damn."-M!Robin's B support with Aversa

[jell0buss-37]

Why not? (Peter B. Parker x reader) pt. 1

Your honor, he is a mess. I need him-

This is going to be a series! This is part 1, and it will be a Friends to Lovers trope, and it sort of switches from present to past events, I haven't written in a while now so I'm sorry if it starts out bad, slight slow burn, but patience is a virtue ;)

Warnings: None, just how you guys meet

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

He liked you so much. He hadn't realized it before, but man did he like you. Before, he hadn't noticed that the reason his heart flutters just a little more every time you looked at him wasn't just his acid reflux acting up. He didn't really realize that you were one of the only people who can cause all of his previous anger and stress to just dissipate, gone like loose change dropped down a drainage pipe, and all with something as simple as a text. He never got the memo that the only reason he felt any peace in those moments where he'd be hanging out on your fire escape, was all because of you. It was always you.

Before, all he was was just a colleague, a fellow reporter, and nuisance, at the Daily Bugle. Fresh out of highschool and living with a roommate, Harry, who was one of his best buds since he was just a kid. He needed the money, and was really just taking a year off of school, with his hero duties now and whatnot. Scheduling conflicts are just the norm when you become a webslinging vigilante.

A vigilante that his new boss hated, actually. At first he was shocked, almost pissed, and yet somehow, he felt flattered? At the beginning, he was just really thinking of being somewhat of a temp. That is until he saw the price on his head. Or, at least pictures of it. He couldn't possibly pass up an opportunity to get in on the action. And that's really how he became a reporter. A man on the inside, if you will.

Things started to turn out great! Having just landed a job, plus an extra little award bonus he got from the pictures he "Just so happened to snag of the Amazing Spiderman," he had bragged to Mr. Jameson while he slid them across the desk, a shit eating grin on his face. Life couldn't be running smoother at this moment. 'Pizza and a monster marathon Night?' He'd been asking Harry, his roommate, staring at his phone, too excited, albeit hungry, to look up before-

"AH, DAMN-" in the blink of an eye, he had caught a laptop, a camera, and a coffee mug in his grasp, yet even with his spidy senses, had failed to catch you from falling on your face. "Jesus, you okay there?" He asked, hardly even phased. That was until he saw your face.

He couldn't help but immediately stare at your lips, which in most cases, if this were a normal romance, that would be something of a love at first sight sort of affair, however, if it weren't for the blood trickling from it, maybe this all would've been easier. But for someone like you, nothing feels all that easy. He automatically sets everything down, his hero complex taking over his logic, as he's by your side quicker than the situation started.

"OW- woah- okay, hah, nice to meet you?" You were flustered, your cheeks lighting up in embarrassment between his palms clasped around your face, seemingly scanning you before assessing anything. "Looks like you split your lip pretty bad, man. What'd you do, hit a desk or a fist on your way down?" He chuckled, trying to ease the tension and lighten the embarrassment you seemed to obviously feel. It seemed to work, as you chuckled nervously at the lighthearted comment.

"Bit of both, actually. I actually got mugged last night on my way home. Well, almost mugged. I fought 'em off. Heh, you should see the other guy…" At this point he had let go of your face, only finding the split lip and what appeared to be a bruise around your jaw. His eyes widened a bit, however, he could tell you didn't seem to be the kind who liked pity. Actually, looking at you now, you looked like you could handle your own pretty well. You had a certain glint in your eye, almost a prideful one. You definitely were a tough guy.

"Woah, sure looks like you know how to put up a hell of a fight. That cut doesn't look like it's doing too good though.." At this, your eyes widen, as you bring a hand up to graze your fingers along the cut, hissing as you feel that familiar sting. "Damn, and I thought I was making a speedy recovery there." You chuckled, a defeated slump in your shoulders. "Well, I'm pretty good at taking care of cuts like that, if you can point me in a general direction of a first aid kit, we could have you up an' running in no time!" He jokes.

You're picking up your things, placing them back on your desk while he talks, smiling at his joke, and huffing out a laugh. You nod at the mention of a first aid kit, pulling one out from a drawer in your desk, and toss it to him. He catches it easily, while you plop down into your swivel chair, sighing. He gets to work quickly, and in no time he's got you fixed up pretty good. You look into your phone camera, impressed at his handy work.

"Woah, pretty good. What are you, a doctor or something?" You look up expectantly. "Ah, nah. Just been through it myself a couple times, is all. I'm actually a reporter. Well, I mean, I just got hired here is all. Just got the job actually!" He rubs the back of his neck, a bit awkward from the compliments on his patchwork.

"Damn, now I can't take you home to meet my Ma." You joke, smirking at him. Were you… WHAT? His eyes widen a bit, and the next thing he knows, you guys are both laughing as if you've been two buds catching up after many years. You stick your hand out to him, smiling friendly. "Well, welcome to the Daily Bugle. I've been a reporter for about a year now myself, actually. So trust me when I tell you that Jameson is a real hard ass when it comes to his stories. Especially on that spider guy!" He shakes your hand, smiling and nodding along to your words, agreeing.

"Oh, I can tell. I actually got him some good pictures that I got of the 'Spider Guy', as you call him." He feels the corners of his mouth shaping into that shit eating grin, pride flashing across his features. "Huh, so your the guy he was just telling me about. He told me I'd be getting some competition, interesting that my hero seems to be a kid who has a lot of nerve showing me up like that." You joke.

He rubs his neck again at the title hero, getting all awkward again. "Hah, it's not much really. I'm Peter, by the way. Peter B. Parker." He offers his name. "(Y/n). I look forward to working with ya." You smile lopsidedly at him. He smiles back, waving goodbye and walking backwards into the elevator by your desk. You look at him with a certain glint in your eyes as the doors slowly shut. At the time, he couldn't quite place that glint.

He didn't have the time to think about it, as he suddenly gets a text. His heart jumps into his throat as he sees who it's from.

'Hey Pete! We still in for Friday?' He smiles at his phone, answering MJ quicker than ever, excited to talk to her. 'Wouldn't miss it!' he hits send, placing the phone back in his pocket. He smiles to himself again, truly excited for their first date that week.

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog - Dofus, livre 1 : Julith [PART 20]

Joris grabs Kerubim as they're falling, to shield him, and my personal thoughts on this are [CAR CRASH] [GLASS SHATTERING] ‘GOOD LORD!’ [GENERAL COMMOTION] [BABY CRYING] ‘WAAAAH WAAAAH’ [YELLING] [POLICE SIRENS] WEEWOO WEEWOO [HELICOPTERS] ‘WE’RE REPORTING LIVE-‘ [EXPLOSION] ‘MY LEG… MY LEG…’

Even with his probably very limited thinking-capabilities as a kitten, Kerubim's first instinct after falling is to look at whether Joris is alright or not. Personally, I think that——

:(

fanmgs

Kerubim is 2 sauces tall, but ready to avenge his death and also his son's fresh traumatization.

"Please don't call me a flask of poison because I have some green liquid inside and skulls drawn on my bottle <3 just drink up. Okie dokie?"

I don't lnow what this woman is expecting, here, honestly.

BASED Joris.

Bakara really thinks that Joris is stupid enough to go with her, while Joris employs the classical battle tactic of lying, by approaching her until she let go of Lilotte and saying "im going to kill you or hurt you in some way [giggle]" immediately after.

But as Bakara has shown repeatedly, even in this scene alone, she doesn't think highly of Joris. Even if she tried really hard to pretend that she did.

Well, she doesn't think of anyone highly, actually. Including herself.

This screenshot will get a lot of usage during ova2 liveblog, followers. It's literally THE reaction image for ova2.

While watching this movie, I always go between different extremes, when thinking about Joris and Bakara's relationship in the future. Would it become worse? Would they be close? Would they hate each other?

Every time I have a different answer, which is probably an answer in on itself.

My current take is that whether Joris and Bakara consider one another a friend probably varies from year to year. I can see it clearly: her telling him stories of Jahash. Her helping him around the home. Her criticizing him harshly for being a failure of a huppermage (it's as unacceptable for him to be that, as it is for her). Her stopping talking to him after he leaves the academy. Beginning to talk to him again after a few years, when he has a very close call to death while adventuring, — angry at him, because don't you dare die on me while we're in one of our "I don't talk to you" argument phases. Rinse and repeat.

I think it's funny. Atcham's greatest wish, besides hair, has always been "I want someone in my family to care about me," while Bakara...

Whike Bakara, as an heir of a Bontarian hero, would probably fear being in the wrong, — an evildoer, — the very most.

No wonder they're so shocked.

Both of them are experiencing some entirely new emotions, thanks to Joris.

It's not really about Bonta. It's about revenge. And it's about her feeling inadequate. And it's about her feeling like a failure.

As far as she's concerned, even a dofus doesn't want her, with how broken she is. He wants some weird, off-putting, Julith-related 10yo instead.

One has to wonder, if it is a genuine plea, or if she is manipulating Bakara by revealing the truth. Because she doesn't want to be blown to pieces by a dofus.

It's a bit hard to analyse this part of the movie because I'll be real, there's so much occuring all at the same time. Like bro. Imagine being Joris here.

The woman who killed your dads is now like "I am going to bring one of them back", and also another one came back 5 minutes ago, but also things are exploding and fire is everywhere, and also your aunt just tried to kill your uncle?? And also stole your dragon egg magical nuke.

Even if everything Julith said was true, — her cold, cold reaction to a fireball hitting her son, the way she looks at Bakara like at dirt, and the way she says "quit fooling around", point so, so heavily towards her revelation of this information being a tactical way to manipulate Bakara.